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#he has new skin for every mcc

alittlebirb · 2 years

Text

Some excitement and enthusiasm from the MCC 23 Lime Llamas!

The panic and excitement from Antfrost when he was able to sub in, as well as his determination to be PGfrost

Antfrost saying he's been wanting to team with Scar for a while

"I'm so glad you're on our team, because you destroyed me yesterday. You had your claws out!" -Scar to Ant

Jimmy being very impressed at Ant's dedication to getting the Mike Wazowski skin on short notice

Scar doing a Ghost of Top Gun Past bit in order to roast Timmy for not watching the movie

Scar's destressing techniques including holding a hamburger Cub gave him and petting a cat that's playing chess

"I am the slushy fairy here on MCC. I do what I can." -Scar

Jimmy turning into an advertising bot and calling for everyone to join Youtube Gaming today!

Scar giving out fries and keeping everyone salted up

Everyone one upping each other on the amount of times they rewatched the update video

Scar setting everyone up in a burger line, Ant - Cub -Tim -Scar, and pronouncing this will be the order they play the games in

Scar comparing the light show at the beginning to the Disneyland fireworks

"I always find a way to tie it back to Disneyland, you know that." -Scar

"I hope we're intimidating the other teams with our crazy cool skins." -Scar

SG being chosen and Scar asking Ant, "have you ever heard of the barn strategy?"

"They will sense blood, because I watched the vods last time and they were all, Scar Bad! Get Him! We'll stay in the shadows, and then I'll water bucket mlg them to death." -Scar

Scar going on a rant about how disrespectful and ugly capri pants are, and sliding in "Impulse, big capri pants fan, by the way."

Martyn staring at the team and Scar saying he's killed him twice in Double Life, and he'll kill him again

Jimmy trying to find allies for his refusal to use a mouse pad and in absolute contrast, Ant saying he has a special mouse pad which fits to his keyboard

Cub saying he never finished Harry Potter and asking for no spoilers, please

"I don't think Scar can read." -Jim

"I often go on long, winding monologues." -Scar

Ants beginning to crawl up Scar's legs, and Scar talking about how one time ants crawled in his ear, to everyone's great chagrin

Scar quietly saying hawkeye! in the background

Lime winning SG!

"I've got tears in my eyes, tears in my eyes!" -Jimmy

Scar having trouble saying multiplier and asking for Bdubs

Scar comparing the elevator joke to the Twlight Tower of Terror...rip to the Twilight Tower of Terror

Scar muting before AR in order to go on his winding monologues

Tim somehow thinking that there were 2 laps in the new AR map and being aghast at the fact there's 4

Scar calling PeteZahHutt "Pete the Pizza Man" in GR

Jimmy asking Scar if this is what they do in Top Gun when shooting targets, and Scar telling him that "if you bring up that sore subject again, I'll burn your barn down."

The struggle of trying to get everyone into the tubes in the golf room, with Ant trying to get everyone across and then falling off himself

"It's in the hips, it's in the hips!" -Cub

"Send me home!" -Scar

"He was too busy hitting us to think about himself!" -TJ

Scar saying he has the glasses ready for when they play RSR

Scar calling Cub the speedrunner and giving him the job of crafting during SB

Jimmy calling Sapnap's win in the last round "actually criminal to watch"

Ant finally getting into the Top 5 players, after being gatekept for so long

Scar saying it's now his time, it's slurpee time! during break, and giving every afk player (including Ant) slurpees under the name of the slurpee bandit

Cub helping Scar in this endeavor by pointing him towards which players are afk

Jimmy scolding Quig and telling him to put his glasses back on

Scar saying they can only speak in W's during PKT, greatly taxing their vocabulary, and the three of them going through the repertoire of chanting "We Will Win Whales!", "We Will Win Wales!", and "When Will We Win?"

"I've mcfallen." -Timmy

The chat calling them the Winning Wazowskis and Marvelous Mikes

"Scott hit me with no hesitation. Joel too, not even a hello!" -Jim

MD coming into the decision dome and Jimmy pointing and saying "There's our boy. There's our boy."

Scar getting the dunk and being directed to dunk Aqua, but dunking the innocent Cyan instead and getting blasted by Jimmy

"This man doesn't know his colors!" -Tim

Ant, Gumi, and Cub peacefully crossteaming for a few seconds in RSR before the platform is destroyed along with their friendship

Scar attributing his top 4 RSR performance to his glasses and the fact he was daydreaming about Disneyland

"I've actually only played BuildMart once. And I made a catastrophic mistake that haunts me to this day." -Scar

"...maybe should've mentioned that earlier bud." -Tim

"What are the snowballs in TGTTOS for?" -Jimmy

"Uh...griefing." -Ant

Cub watching Ant toss Tommy into the lava, and Scar watching Wilbur punching Eret and saying "I can't believe I witnessed a murder."

Everyone consistently calling themselves Team Consistent

"I don't think I killed anyone that time around, and I was out for blood!" -Scar

"Why is Phil standing alone in the bathroom right now?" -Cub

Scar saying he doesn't want to play BM without Grian, he wants a sand duo BM

Ant being the ultimate leader in MD

Ant getting an ace against Purple and Tim calling it a "quad freeze!"

"We didn't hold out for consistency, we said put it in the last!" -Timmy

Cub calling them the Meltdown Mikes

Cub saying that if Martyn wins this one he also wins against Covid, so it's two wins

Jimmy having no faith and believing Martyn's going to lose

Scar turning on his lightsaber during DB

"Martyn's heartbeat just went up 15 beats. Mine did too!" -Scar

Jimmy yelling "HE PLAYS THE SIMS!" when Zeuz gets the 1v3 clutch

Scar calling Martyn "the Covid Crusader" when he wins

Lime Llamas finished MCC 23 in 5th place!

#mcc #mcc 23 #antfrost #cubfan135 #goodtimeswithscar #solidaritygaming #birb's mcc recaps #me hearing about this team: on one hand no Illumina and hermits #on the other hand Antfrost and hermits #antfrost was such a good leader and so helpful the whole way through #I'm so proud of their meltdown performance!#manifesting scar and tubbo next mcc pls

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wixelt · 1 year

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(hermit tales au)

After she got those fateful words out, Pearl collapsed.

The previous part, for context.

---

Hermit Tales AU #003 - Pearl's Blight

"...Grian's gone."

The words spark dawning horror in the Hermits. They seem so innocent, yet with Pearl so dishevelled and shaken... So broken...

Something has happened. Something awful, the gut instincts of the older Hermits who have seen and been through more tell them. Something they don't yet know or understand.

Doc's still organic hand clutches at his cybernetic one in discomfort. He knows the Gods would not be responsible for this, and yet he gets that same feeling of cosmic uncertainty he felt just before fighting Dinnerbone. But its stronger now - not simply a casual bout - and feels awful in the pit of his stomach.

Similar expressions of worry cross the features of Etho, Beef, Joe... All old enough now to have been around the block a few times. To know bad tidings when they see them.

But they all know they can't be feeling it as deeply as Pearl, on such a level its ravaged her. Between the remnants of her Watcher power and her bond with her brother, she's the only one who can give them an immediate insight into this situation.

That isn't to be, though.

The moment the words of defeat cross her lips, its like a light goes out in Pearl, her head falling limp. She drops from exhaustion so suddenly that Gem and Impulse have to fight to keep a grip on her, lest a head injury be added to her woes. Carefully, they lower her to the ground...

...and for the first time - still as she is - the other Hermits are able to notice how pale she is. How she's shivering like its the deepest ice of winter.

This is not simply exhaustion.

Multiple Hermits are on her in moments. Stress, False, Scar... Any Hermit with skills in some form of medicine sets about checking on her, making sure their friend is stable.

Scar finds the blight first.

There's a clear red mark - bruised from impact and blistered like an acid burn - on her side, and from it sickening green lines - pulsing and gruesome - spread through her skin like a weed taking root. These veins - somehow winding and fractal at the same time - still spread as the Hermits watch in horror, the skin around these new intrusions turning as red and hurt as the impact.

And on looking at it, a voice in the back of Scar's soul suddenly screams wrong.

Scar has never heard the Vex show fear or disgust so deep before. So total they recoil anytime he presses for information.

Not even the Watchers could do something like this, cruel as they are.

In panic at Scar's sudden alarmed expression, the Hermits subject Pearl's incapacitated form to every trick they know to slow this infection down.

Gem moves her into a bed in close range of two full-power beacons, one spouting Regen I and the other Resistance II.

Countless Hermits take shifts dousing her unconscious body - unable to drink or eat - with splash and lingering potions of Slowness IV, Slowness+, Healing II, Regen II and Regen+ around the clock to shore up gaps in the beacon effects.

False and Scar spend several sleepless nights researching how to create a Potion of Luck to add to the cocktail - up to and including somehow using Joe Hills' natural good vibes as a catalyst - but come up blank.

Doc and Tango move a wrangled Elder Guardian into a neighboring chamber to afflict Pearl's form with Mining Fatigue, while Tango also helps Mumbo research somehow leeching the healing factor the Ender Dragon gets from end crystals to use for Pearl instead.

Ren and Cub quietly leave the Hermits' world and star system, seeking out the allies they've made through gatherings such as MCC. Surely somebody can help, or at least knows something about this.

Quietly and uncomfortably, Impulse presses a Totem of Undying into Pearl's unmoving hand, and keeps countless more on standby in the room.

Because the veins don't fade with respawn. Xisuma manually resetting Pearl's lifesigns was the first thing they tried, the blight only growing faster when she was restored, still out cold.

At this point, they need every edge they can get.

And even after all this - all these desperate measures - the blight progresses unabated. This affliction goes deeper than just her physical body.

Its slowed for sure, no longer visibly spreading across Pearl's skin, but it hasn't stopped or retreated or faded and after their initial measures and three days of ongoing treatment, the infection covers one side of her abdomen like a rat's nest of crisscrossing green thorns and patchy redness.

No Hermit dares touch it directly, lest the situation be made a million times worse.

Because they've been by Grian's base, now. They've seen the door-like thing that took him and scarred Pearl.

They fear it, though only Scar feels that fear anywhere near as primally as the siblings did, the power that recoils merely borrowed in his case.

They dare not get as close as the unfortunate did, and can learn little as a result.

All they can do now is wait for Pearl to wake up.

And pray that she does.

---

The Hermit Tales AU is built from replies to short prompts, making story & set pieces from your one-sentence asks & seeing if a plot evolves.

If you have anything to throw in, feel free. :D

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fountainpenguin · 9 months

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"The phone rings in the middle of the night... My father yells 'Whatcha gonna do with your life!?'"

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! Still a Traffic SMP fan-season, even if it doesn't look like one in the first 1,000 words, ha ha.

Chapter 4 - “Simmer (Scott)”

Read on AO3

Start from Chapter 1

---

MCC's exhausting and therapy's expensive, but having Scar and Skizz catapult you into your Hot Boy Summer arc is free. It's the Scott chapter, folks! This man has never done anything shady in his life. He's just building a sushi restaurant... and definitely doesn't have unfinished paperwork sniffing at his heels.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

💚 💛 ❤️

Minecrafters like to move in circles. It’s the first thing they burn into your head back in City Planning 101. They like to keep you in their sights. They dance sideways. They sometimes swap into third-person view. They move like prey even on Peaceful, which is awful when you think about it - about how deeply embedded in your code that sort of thing is - but hey… It’s not wrong. They are prey. So when Scott first built New Star Station back in the day, he opted for curved walls and a fairly open floor plan. Brings the gals and pals to the yard like dust-moths to a redstone flame.

And no windows. Everyone thinks they want windows - thinks they want to see the washed-out pink of the Between Dimension’s sky and its fluffy red and white trees - but they don’t. They really don’t. In this dimension, the mobs don’t stop spawning just because you lit the ground up. There’s a reason every floor tile in this station is coated in half-slabs and carpets. They’ve built themselves a world, built themselves a home, they play their little games…

But the “no windows” policy will remain no matter how many requests pile up in his office. Windows showcasing Between’s hazel and crabapple trees, its fireflies, its mooblooms, its mice, its zombie horses, and those gemstone-flecked blocks that coat the natural ground are aesthetic in theory, but horrid in execution. Once you have windows, you start asking more questions. You start checking over your shoulder. You start asking for weapons. And that’s not the vibe. In New Star Station, they’re “safe.” They have quartz floors, mossy cobble, and dark oak wood. It’s cute. It’s home. They can pretend the outside world isn’t living in total anarchy.

No one likes the reminder that they’re prey.

“Scott,” says Scar behind him as they round the next hallway curve, because as much as Scott loves him, Scar wouldn’t get a memo if you flooded his inventory with several stacks of 64. Scar’s trying to hustle, using his cane to push himself forward a little more than he should. He might slip. Scar’s fingers graze the back of Scott’s jacket sleeve. “What’s your favorite block from the outside?”

Scott spares him half a glance. Looks right at his pine-green eyes, which is a mistake. It’s easier to stay in character when he’s actually on a server - when he’s staring down a presentation of his friends instead of this… this out of roleplay version of themselves. Scar’s not in his wooden puppet skin anymore; they’re not on the Dog’s Life server. He’s wearing his rumpled brown coat and explorer’s fedora. His spiky blue wings flutter behind him, non-functional but sentimental. And he’s got algae-coated eyes.

Scott would like to claw the algae straight off him.

“Leaves,” he says. It’s not untrue. But Scar picks up on that instantly, because he’s Scar and can dance his tongue like a snake doing ballet. It’s almost insulting, actually, how many hours Scott put into this hallway design just for Scar to tune it all out (Most people use the bullet path; Scar can’t, Scar always walks, doesn’t compliment the block palette). Scar half-tosses his cane, catching it in his hand. He hustles after Scott without planting that thing down on the floor. Just shuffling, just playing the syrupy sweet character…

It’s all a show. The man just glitched a whole server - so much paperwork; gotta file Grian’s incident reports - and he’s still trotting about with no cares in the world and triple aces up his sleeve. Scar’s not baggy-eyed and bristle-tailed. There’s no long nights waiting for him. No people to please. It must be nice to roll around in someone else’s sandbox. See, Scott built this playground, but he can never lose himself in it. And he didn’t even build a playground. New Star’s a bunker dressed in tinsel and glitter.

“Oh really?” (About the leaves). Scar’s voice is honey and hums. He slams one arm around Scott’s shoulders, which Scott winces at because it almost flickers him out of his human persona- almost startles a side of himself he doesn’t like to show. Scar sweeps his cane around, gently tapping the top of it to the bottom of Scott’s chin. It’s spruce wood, the cane. Scott can tell from the smell of it; even the polish doesn’t hide that. Scar presses the cane’s curve innocently at his mouth. “Scott, you have just secured your place as my favorite mayor in New Star’s history.”

“I’m the only mayor in…”

“Leaves,” Scar plows on, completely ignoring him, “are one of the most beautiful blocks in the game. In fact, I’ve been thinking! I’ve been thinking for a while now. I keep meaning to ask if I can have a tree outside my portal, which I think would balance out my mailbox. Big and little! Comparison contrast. You know I hate paperwork, though… Hey, what do the leaves look like in this dimension anyway? Maybe instead of getting an import, I should go the authentic route.”

Scott’s eye twitches up. He doesn’t throw Scar’s arm away from his neck, but it takes an extra breath - which is not a good sign - to keep it together; keep the truest part of himself tucked inside his code. Scar’s easily spooked and already had a rough day. Can’t keep a secret either. Scott’s not in the mood for coming out to him. Instead he says, “Scaaar,” in a gently patient, sort of in character kind of tone. He turns his head, smiling, and gives a little tilt. Because nothing bothers him, because he’s Scott, and it’s his playground and everyone else is running around in it. “You, sir, are setting yourself up to be a bad example… Why are you asking about outside blocks?”

Nat 1 on intimidation. Scar hums like a bumblebee, pressing his cane a little tighter against the base of Scott’s neck. They haven’t stopped walking; he doesn’t take his mouth away from Scott’s pointed ear.

“Why, they sound like fun to build with, Smajor! Are you hoarding pretty blocks?” Lips so close, hitboxes shuffling, lips passing straight through skin in a way that sends goosepixels shrieking up his neck like lightning. Scar’s fingers clench in his shoulder. “Can’t a man want to play around with new ceiling tiles? Why! You’re a ragged little ferret hoarding ceiling tiles, aren’t you?” And he thunks the cane tip against Scott’s chin. Scott’s on auto-pilot; he smacks the back of his hand against Scar’s cheek, which finally gets him slinking off.

“Between’s natural blocks are ugly. You wouldn’t use them anyway.” It’s like spoonfeeding carrot mush to a baby.

[Cnt'd on AO3 - Link at top]

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riacte · 2 years

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Anatomy of a typical False-Ren team MCC:

Rendog mic problems

They somehow end up standing next to each other when talking to their chats unmuted

Ren looks down for 2 secs and False immediately comments that he “looks sad” (Ren’s probably doing the zoom in into his face for his viewers or singing Bohemian Rhapsody)

Light conversation about the weather, food, drinks (just British things)

“We did practice… a bit 👉👈”

Casual remark about how they one time they really practiced was “with HBomb” (aka MCC9)

False goes around roasting / commenting on skins

Ren, about anything: It’s cute, but it’s wrong!!

They meet up with the rest of the team, then Ren usually sets some goal of “let’s have have fun, my dudes!” and “#NotLast”

There’s a 50/50 chance that when confronted with game selection, Ren will go “well last time Falsie and I did….” (He usually uses experience from last MCC and quite often it’s a MCC with False until now lol)

“Let’s get Parkour Tag out of the way”

False always gets buggy in PkT / HulkSymmetry moment

Ren, literally after every single game: Now that one of our weakest games are out of the way—

Rendog HITW rage keyboard smashing

False makes a noise of despair at TGTTOS

Obligatory Fruityloops mention at TGTTOS

Actually they mention Fruit and H like seven times each throughout the entire MCC. And the other S tiers that they’re friends.

Blue9 reference

Declaring war on the other hermit team but can and will throw for them

Bantering during Ace Race / being super gleeful when they pass by each other

False after every game: I messed up :( if only the bug wasn’t there and I didn’t miss that jump—

Ren trying to boost morale constantly

Break time!

They either get really excited about the new MCC lobby decorations or go into serious, in-depth, thoughtful discussions of PkT / PkW and the competitiveness of MCC

Or False finds somewhere cool to chill and Ren goes “:D where are you?” and she goes “>.> how DARE you follow me??”

Or Ren accidentally unmutes for the entire break and none of the team members know how to cut in when Ren’s thanking bits and donos

In which False is just gonna let Ren unintentionally entertain her chat while she leaves for a bit lol

False roasts Ren but also gets 😠🥺 when he jumps in lava and dies in Battle Box

It’s extremely funny how every time False reminds Ren of an enemy about to catch him, he pauses and subsequently gets killed. Like no Ren, just run.

False girlbossing the team in Sky Battle while Ren fumbles with the spawn iron blocks

We do not talk about modern SG (Lime14 flashbacks)

At this point everyone’s a bit tired and they don’t talk as much, but Ren occasionally brings up False so she has to butt in to correct him

Ren gets the order terribly wrong in Build Mart but the extra blocks he got are somehow useful bc of Rendog Plot Armour

SoT goes something like this:

Ren: [minding his own business as sandkeeper, oblivious]

False, rushing towards mid with sand: RererereREN—

Thinking about the time False died and Ren didn’t know how to revive her and she was literally like “you dummy!!!”

For some reason cranberry / prune juice is brought up as a passing remark

Ren Dodgebolt commentary and False’s like “yeah I don’t even need to say anything”

False makes one (1) sassy remark about the state of MCC Reddit

“Well my dudes, I had a lot of fun this time!” <- Ren every time

False goes down to the winner’s hall and stands between her two wins proudly

The fans are happy :)

#mcc #ria.txt #ueueueueueueueueu #mcc really brought this duo to mainstream attention

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thetomorrowshow · 1 year

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I posted 2,047 times in 2022

That's 851 more posts than 2021!

423 posts created (21%)

1,624 posts reblogged (79%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@winterswrandomness

@thetomorrowshow

@flyingfish1234

@polybius1201

@canaryomenharbinger

I tagged 1,811 of my posts in 2022

Only 12% of my posts had no tags

#q - 983 posts

#minecraft stuff - 737 posts

#art - 589 posts

#empires smp - 202 posts

#ask - 176 posts

#jimmy solidarity - 120 posts

#empires superpowers au - 116 posts

#3rd life smp - 116 posts

#mas speaks - 106 posts

#esh au - 103 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#like he walked in. 'hey guys keeping it short today bc i have to go to the dentist on tuesday. were there any questions abt the work?'

My Top Posts in 2022:

TFC's sister posted a link to his obituary on twitter. It's very lovely, but I wanted to point out this specific part:

[ID: Edward moved to Tulsa in 1972. He went out on his own for many years, without contacting friends or family. Much about where he was and what he was doing during this time remains a mystery. In fact, Edward was not seen again until 1992, when it was discovered that he was living in Indianapolis, Indiana, where he was employed by Pizza Hut, as a delivery driver. He had also lived in Arkansas, before returning to Tulsa. End ID]

I can't get over this. This is the most TFC thing I've ever seen

1,980 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

Jimmy has murdered a human on rats smp. Jimmy killed the gardener and has now promised scott the gardening job in exchange for keeping quiet about it. jimmy has yelled at the janitor that he's going to cut his arms off and threatened to kill him too. I repeat jimmy solidarity has murdered a human. this is the LEAST SAFEST RAT

3,150 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

Got my dad to watch mcc (scar pov) with me, here are some highlights of the occasion

he's colorblind and struggled telling teams apart, but appreciated color indicators on some blocks in games

did not understand survival games until he saw the border and then went "oh it's like fortnite!!"

asked questions about every ten seconds which was actually quite lovely, but included:

asking me how mcc teams are decided

asking me who scott smajor was no less than five times

asking me to explain the concept of hermitcraft.

did not care about the game chat until he realized that's where i was getting stats from and then started leaning as far forward as possible to read it

i don't think he ever really grasped the concept of rocket spleef. he had fun watching though

thought antfrost's skin was a bird

asked me if ace race was only for ace people (definitely trying to connect with me after i recently came out as ace. much appreciated, very sweet)

complained if people punched scar off during tgttos

asked if scar would be interested in coming to our family server to build

desperately wants minecraft slushies. i wouldn't be surprised if i joined the family server tomorrow to find he'd added a texture pack for them

i think his favorite game was meltdown, he got very excited about scar's killer aim

he says that most of the streamers he watches are british and hearing american accents on twitch was weird. ok

got happy every time scar wasn't last in team rankings for a game

guys he got so into dodgebolt. he was jumping up with every hit. he was very disappointed when i accidentally changed the channel during the second round and wouldn't let me touch the remote again. he actually cheered at the final shot

he didn't know anyone playing but he still really enjoyed it. he wants to watch again next time :)

3,197 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

new copypasta dropped and this is my favorite one

6,304 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You know what makes me the most angry about the hbo max ordeal?

Librarians saw this coming years ago and tried to prevent it. Corporations refused to work with them, afraid of the loss in profits there might be.

27,396 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #little year in review before i head out on my break #leaving the tags in case ppl have em blocked #ok question: should i edit my top post to be 27k goodtimeswithscar #let me know

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nerdyenby · 1 year

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Orange time :D I’m watching H

Pregame

I watched the first hour or so day of and didn’t write anything because I don’t have to :D (I do this for fun, it’s not homework lol)

H’s skin is so cute!!

“I’m confident in my team, I’m not confident in myself” fair, new setup can be rough (I say like I’ve ever owned a pc lol)

HOOKED ON A FEELING BA BADA BAAAAA!!

H muting music for his vods is so funny though

“YOU SON OF A B*TCH, GET BACK HERE!! I am immune to the good times all of a sudden!!!”

So ummm what does “AF” stand for because I severely doubt scuffed’s abbreviation is MCC as f*ck

Sniff Snifferish extra susceptible to sun poisoning??? Him with a parasol is an entire vibe tho

Wait is H back in arizona? I knew he moved but not where, that’s cool (mhm not doxxing myself at all)

“This is like, the second time we’ve ever talked and you’ve already meemaw’d me, and I can’t” Sniff and H my beloveds <333

Sniff through fake tears: “but I’m not a grandma” H: “you can be whatever you wanna be” we stan an ally

The way it took me like ten minutes to realize this entire conversation has been about weather, they’re just vibing

Wait, hold up, who does SB sound like???? FREDDY BADLINU ok, you may proceed

Sniff is such a nerd, I love them so much

H just standing there with the biggest smile on his face as he punches Jordan for a minute straight

“For the record, I haven’t practiced at all because I didn’t know I was gonna be in it until yesterday” “Beky, I’m chronically ill” Sniff is so adhd, I love her to death but literally where did that come from (I’m also adhd and I can track a line of thinking from A -> B but out of context it sounds so random)

“We do good at meltdown, I’ve decided” so true Sniff Snifferish

“I think we skip sands of time, to be honest with you, it’s the worst game” “That is the worst thing you’ve ever said in your life and I hate you, we’re playing sands of time” “Literally HBomb is on our team, you did not just say that” Sniff fearing for SB’s life 😭

Grid Runners

SB is a tryhard?? We love to see it

“I think I’m britishphobic” so true Sniff

I love grid runner so much guys, I didn’t even realize I was so close to the screen until it ended and I realized a hadn’t written anything lol

*gets first* “We’re so good!!” “We’re cracked” “Nailed that one” *gets tenth* “We suck!!” *gets fifth* “We’re average!!”

I love them, they’re so funny

Parkour Warrior

“Let’s go!! I suck at parkour, YEAHHHH!!”

Logo appreciation my beloved

H is merely girlbossing, he’s a cishet man but he girlboss nonetheless

“Know when to quit” “like gambling” but literally that is the key to parkour warrior, obviously movement skills are important but you have be able to decide what is and is not worth your time and not get too hung up on any one thing

It’s so satisfying to watch H first try segments

I feel like H is underestimating how much time he has, he definitely could’ve gone for one more bonus path

Sniff popping off!!!

Okay, they gotta set expectations low so they can pop off later

I feel like Bek has been super quiet, not just this game but overall? Idk she may just be in it for the occasional zingers and that’s incredibly valid

Everyone knows you gotta read all your teammates’ wiki pages before you play together smh /j

“I just let Jesus — aka YouTube auto play — take the wheel, okay?” So real

6000???????

Sands of Time

Sniff Snifferish: professional logo appreciator, as ae should

“HB*tch!! Sorry..” “That’s me!” If you couldn’t tell I’m very sane about Sniff and H interactions

SB really said ‘that thing you told me not to do? I’m doing it’ (but I know exactly what he’s talking about and it’s the right call)

“Just be smart, that’s the main thing. Don’t do anything you don’t have to do” “What if I’m not smart?” BEK 😭😭😭

What is with H being so slow to recognize colors at the start of sands???

Sniff was muted :((

H giving Sniff the vault my beloved!!!!

Oh wow yeah, every tunnel has been accounted for

H wanting to get Sniff their first vault :(((

“We’re team rusty” “Is that what the orange is for?” I love that actually

Ace Race

“Guys, guys, the best minecraft youtuber — 100 days SB — just told me I got this, I got this” them <333

H: ‘hey guys, things are gonna be different’ H when things are different: *shocked pikachu face*

H talking about how he doesn’t care about individual performance or strategy, he just wanted to do something nice for Sniff and have a good time

H saying the halftime show is his personal hell but sitting there with a smile on his face the entire time

Meltdown

I was not mentally present for the first round but I’m sure they did great smile

Gosh, this is such a good meltdown team, they’re just so present and calm

“We play the video game” “Dude, I love playing the video game” so real Bek

That 3rd round back and forth with lime!!! That’s exactly what this game was meant to be!!!!! It was so good, you guys

“You are a mad man” “He’s British, leave him be” Sniff 😂

People predicted them 9th? They’re at least 4-7th!!! Wait what did I predict them as?? Just checked my notes and I placed them 6th :)

“The only difference between those predictions and the result is me, so I’m actually personally responsible for us raising these places” so true Bek

Battle Box

Jojo is everything, real and true

I forgot it was this map, rip

“I’m not a crossbow fan but I will do this” “Me neither but we’ll vibe”

This map is reminding me of meltdown ngl

I JUST SAID THAT!! Me and Bek are the same person

Nice first round!!! Everyone was just running around but it worked so well

“I didn’t use the tnt, as was foretold” pfff

“I’ve missed every shot, don’t mean to flex or anything like that but I did” “Alright, keep your ego in check, geez” I love this team, I don’t think any of them have teamed before but they just have such good chemistry

Bek popped off against green, I don’t care that they lost, she won in my heart

BEK MVP!!!!

Blue is demolishing, holy crap

Let’s just play all the games, actually, SB’s onto something

“I’m terrible at everything, so it’s okay” “That’s the attitude!” “If you’re ever feeling down, just think to yourself: at least I’m not as bad as Sniff” Sniff Snifferish my beloved <333

Sky Battle

Skybattle my beloved

They didn’t get many kills but that first round felt good

SNIFF CARRY!!!

H top 10 two round in a row with zero kills, that’s my H tier!!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: SNIFF CARRY!!!!

“You’re about to be disappointed” “In everyone except our team!!”

Mutiny?? On my ship?????

I was fully prepared for Beky to dunk her own team 😂

Hole in the Wall

Steak/stake puns my beloved

Fat rip to the end of Kara and H’s neighbor saga

They’re all so focused it’s just silent lol

This is the most chill hitw ever

H only gets first, he just sometimes gets it twice

That’s what I’m saying!!!

Not ninth!!!

Not ninth indiv either!!

Dodgebolt

“What do you have against fun?” So true Sniff

H’s FREAKING FACE when Sniff called Purpled “Grayson” 😭😭😭

“Red would’ve hit those” 😂

Great time, great team :))

#mcc #mc championship #mc championships #mcc 30 #hbomb94 #snifferish #bekyamon #sb737

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lovelyfinch · 3 years

Text

NEW DREAM SMP MEMBER: MICHAELMCCHILL

dream has us invite him to the smp earlier today!

his name is michael

-he/him pronouns

-for boundaries, he said basically dont be weird, use common sense

-his mc skin is his runescape character

-he was on smp live, he's been in mcc before!

-every 6 months he does a charity stream called "raising the bar" and he's doing it next month!

#mcyt #dream smp #michaelmcchill #dream #dsmp

1K notes · View notes

dr3amofagame · 3 years

Text

take a shot - dsmp!mcc fic

MCC FIC! MCC FIC! MCC FIC! To be clear, I outlined this weeks back, when teams were first announced, and I took very very little from the actual MCC itself when it came to actually writing this - all I have are the same teams, but it really exists in its own continuity outside of Real Life MCC (obviously, as it’s using the dsmp characters) and everything like that as a whole! Just to be clear :D)

The worldbuilding is also Absolutely Bullshitted start to finish, as well as any and all medical information. Rip. We’re here for a good time, not for a long or particularly accurate one - hope you guys enjoy regardless!! I had a LOT of fun writing this fic, dsmp!mcc aus my BELOVED

title obviously from win it all by derivakat

---

Michael loves MCC.

But it’s one thing to love the normal Championships and quite another when his team looks like it’s falling apart from the inside out - and as the games progress, it becomes more and more obvious that losing, this time, might not be an option.

tws: C!QUACKITY CRITICAL (sorry i promise i love him but he is NOT portrayed very nicely here, very dark portrayal of him), implied trauma, abuse, torture, panic attacks, manipulation, gaslighting, needles, hospitals, MCC-typical violence, emotional distress, prison arc, pandora’s vault themes

(16k words !! :D long boi)

Michael loves MCC.

Of course he does! It’s fucking MCC - like, who wouldn’t love it? MCC is how he met so many people, how he met Dream, that one time, the two of them teamed with Techno and Burren and winning it all - MCC is a goddamn blast and he’s thankful every time he gets the invite that he’s able to compete.

Still- it’s hard not to be a little more nervous, now.

Dream gave him an invite to his SMP right after they teamed, but it wasn’t until months later that Michael actually cashed it in. Entering the server, it became very obvious very quickly that the DreamSMP, as it’s known, isn’t quite the same as its shiny media appearance. The spawn was covered in blocks, creeper holes littering the ground. The people he passed were grey-faced, too stoic to be the same, smiling faces he remembers from only less than a year ago. The air stings of gunpowder and iron. Worst of all are The Crater, shoddily covered in glass that does nothing to hide the damage done, rending the server in two straight down to bedrock, and the Prison, looming on the horizon. Absent-mindedly, Michael rubs at his left shoulder, remembering the Warden setting the prongs of his trident against the skin in warning, just hard enough to barely draw blood. Yeah, that place is bad news.

The fact of the matter is the server is a mess. And like, okay, whatever, Michael gets it. Everyone has their issues - it’s just the DreamSMP seems to have more than most. Despite his original worries, it’s honestly not been as bad as he originally feared upon logging in; yeah, Bad and Puffy and Foolish and the rest of them are a little more trigger-happy than he might’ve expected (and he’s not going to say that Bad crying over turtles wasn’t a little startling when he first joined, but honestly he thinks Bad is just Like That.) There’s way more death than he’s really comfortable with, and Puffy keeps mentioning Bad murdering her son (Foolish? He thinks? The guy is also a literal God but like, families are weird, who’s he to judge) in a way that’s way too casual to come from anyone entirely well-adjusted, but overall his experience has been alright.

Still, he gets the feeling that nobody exactly wants the outside world to know about the issues with the place. It’s not an issue for him usually, not when his sleeping schedule is the exact opposite of most of the people he knows and he spends most of his time screwing around on the server, anyway (usually harassing the Warden until the asscrack of dawn if he’s being honest) but with MCC, with everyone watching - he’s starting to get why everyone from the SMP was so damn tense all the time, now.

Anyway- he loves MCC, he really does. But even that doesn’t stop him from wincing when he sees his team card, the names Dream and Quackity and Sapnap written in Scott’s looping handwriting. He’s not seen Sapnap at all since joining the server, has only heard a little about his place (something Kingdom, not that he was paying attention) from Foolish, and has no idea what the man has been up to. Quackity is his own unique can of worms; Michael doesn’t know exactly what’s up with him and his country, but everything he’s heard so far has sounded like nothing but bad news, casinos and schemes and a trail of wreckage following wherever he goes. And Dream-

Michael looks out his window, chewing on his lip, looking directly in the direction where he knows the prison stands, impenetrable, intimidating. Where Dream’s cell is, in line with his house, where he’s been hidden for months without a trace. Where the Warden had confronted him that one night, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, blood splattered on his boots.

There’s no real ignoring an MCC invite - not without good reason, not without the admins picking up on something being up. There’s not really a choice, here, but for Michael to duck his head down and pretend everything’s fine just like everyone else from the SMP. He directs one last glance at the prison before walking away, setting the invite on his counter. If he’s lucky, everything will turn out fine.

(He ignores the part of him that asks what’s going to happen if they’re not. No point in worrying about what hasn’t happened yet - right?)

---

Weeks pass, the tournament creeping closer, and Michael gets no alerts from his teammates on his comm. No one comes to his house to check in, say hi, not even a ‘hey, we’re kinda competing in a massive tournament in like, seven days, you ready?’ Hell, he even starts checking his goddamn mailbox for a letter or something only to come up empty-handed every time. Never mind performing well - it’ll be a miracle if their team manages to arrive at the tournament at all.

It isn’t until the day before MCC, the sun high in the sky at what must be near noon, when he finally gets a message on his comm. Michael fishes it out with a frustrated huff, seeing Quackity’s name pop up first when he manages to turn on the screen.

Quackity whispers to you: you down for some practice?

It takes a couple seconds for him to blink away his shock - out of everyone he expected to arrange practice for their team, Quackity was definitely not at the top of the list. He half-thought they would have to drag him to the tournament kicking and screaming; from what he’s heard, he’s been nothing if not devoted to his country. Shaking his head, he goes to reply; practice is practice, and their team really needs it.

You whisper to Quackity: sure. practice server?

Quackity whispers to you: yes

Pulling up his server list, Michael scrolls for the practice server, finding it and then letting the server transfer do the rest. A few nausea-inducing seconds later, he’s at the practice server spawn, standing in the middle of a neatly paved road surrounded by colorful arenas and signs.

“Michael!”

He turns; there, by the Battle Box arenas, Quackity is waving at him, already dressed in a red varsity jacket and a pair of shorts, the jacket bearing a front pocket embroidered with a rabbit and a large R stitched onto the back. He reaches behind him for a red bag, throws it his way for Michael to catch mid-air.

“Got these outfits for us last minute - hope it’s alright with you,” Quackity smiles, and Michael tries to prevent his eyes from clinging to the scar spanning the entire left side of his face. “Anyway- how are you, man? I feel like we haven’t seen each other at all on the server. How’s it been?”

“I’m good- it’s been good.” Michael opens the drawstring bag, cataloguing the contents - there’s a jacket, just like Quackity’s, a pair of shorts and sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a headband, all in varying shades of red and white. “Nice outfit- thank you. Is anyone else around?”

Quackity waves a hand behind him. “Yeah- Dream’s here. Should be coming out of the arena soon, actually.” Michael looks over behind his shoulder to where he’s pointing - there, walking down the stairs, is another figure wearing all red that must be Dream. “There he is- hey Dream! Michael’s here!”

Dream hurries down the stairs; unlike Quackity, he is wearing the sweatpants along with the same jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets. His hair is a lot longer than Michael remembers, pulled back behind his head in a ponytail, mask, as usual, fastened over his face. He settles behind Quackity, giving Michael a small wave; his hands are covered by a pair of fingerless gloves.

“Hey, Dream!” Michael grins; it’s been such a long time since he’s seen his old teammate, and despite the circumstances and everything that’s apparently happened since then, it’s still pretty damn nice to see him. “How’ve you been?”

Dream seems to freeze for a moment, before shaking his head. “Good,” he says, quiet, sounding almost breathless. Michael’s eyes go to the slivers of skin that show on either side of his face, to the slight shake to his hands.

“You alright? You look a little pale,” Michael asks, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way Dream stills at the words, muscles tensing, gaze averting to the side even with the mask - doesn’t miss how Quackity steps forward, looking Michael in the eye as he tosses a casual arm around Dream’s shoulder, smiling brightly.

“Don’t worry. This idiot has just been practicing a bit too much before you got here,” Quackity gestures with a flippant twist of his wrist, “You know how he gets. Right, Dream?”

“Um- yeah. Ha,” Dream responds just a little too late to be strictly normal, shoulders tight and nearly pulled to his ears under Quackity’s arm. “Practice- I’m a little out of shape.”

“You sure?” Dream’s breathing hitches and Quackity steps forward, just a little bit, eyes still fixed firmly on Michael’s own even as he shifts his gaze to try and look at Dream. “We can take a break if you need, Dream-”

“I’m fine!” Dream smiles with a little stuttered breath that turns into a small laugh, “It’s- uh. It’s fine. Thanks Michael, but we can practice. Not much time left to waste, you know?”

“You sure, Dream?” Quackity says, suddenly, voice soft and sincere. “I guess it has been a while since you’ve been able to practice- you sure you don’t need a break?”

Dream shakes his head firmly. “No- it’s fine. Really- where’s Sapnap? He should be coming soon, right?”

“If you say so, pal,” Quackity replies, doubt coloring his tone as he pulls out his communicator. “I told Sapnap to come, he replied a couple minutes back; he should be here soon, I think. You want to go meet him at spawn?”

Dream nods, and they begin to set out towards the center of the server, Quackity and Dream quickly taking the lead as Michael falls back. After a minute, Quackity falls into casual conversation, rambling about something as Dream nods, Michael trailing behind the two of them and adding his own input as he sees fit. Sapnap arrives soon after, and the noise level picks up even more after that, Sapnap and Quackity falling into an easy rhythm of banter and quips as they set out to practice Battle Box and Parkour Tag, carefully working their way through the different games under Dream’s tutelage and advice.

And here’s the thing- Michael isn’t stupid. Yeah, he’d hardly consider himself a top tier MCC player, and he’ll be the first to say that he’s nowhere near qualified to deal with the literal laundry list of issues that affect every member of the SMP, but even so, he’s not clueless. He’s good at looking at multiple sides of a situation, doesn’t easily give into intimidation or manipulation, and he’s observant as all hell. So when Quackity wraps his hand around Dream’s wrist, fingers wrapping all the way around until his knuckles pale, when Dream winces, muscles in his arm locking before letting it go limp, not protesting when Quackity drags him forward except in the tiny, tight expressions that flit across his face every few moments, tight and gasping and shaky at the corners - Michael notices.

“See you at the tourney, yeah?” Quackity calls to him after practice with a wink before clapping Dream on the back, Michael watching silently as the muscles of Dream’s neck pull tight, head ducking to his chest. “Good job, big guy,” he says, laughing. “Keep this up for tomorrow and we’ll be good.”

“Mmhm,” Dream mutters after a brief second, “We’re- we’re gonna win.”

“Betting on it, pal,” Quackity replies, voice light in a way that completely fails to explain Dream’s full-body flinch. “MCC, huh? Can’t fucking wait.”

“See you tomorrow, Quackity,” Michael says as he presses DreamSMP on his server list, pretending that a chill doesn’t crawl down his spine at the smile that the other man throws his way in return.

---

There’s no real easy answer.

Michael comes to that conclusion at some point in the middle of the night, restless and pumped on way too much adrenaline to go to sleep. He can’t outright antagonize Quackity, can’t let him know he knows something’s up - not when Quackity had already spent the majority of practice keeping one dark, narrowed eye on him at all times, lips pursed in a slight frown whenever he thought Michael wasn’t looking. He’s not stupid; whatever’s happening between Dream and Quackity is secret, and kept that way for a reason. His mind goes back to the brief flashes of anxiety that had moved over Dream’s face before he could react fast enough to school them back into a carefully neutral position; whatever it is, he doubts it bodes well for Dream in the slightest.

Unfortunately, his hands are pretty damn tied. He knows public opinion on the masked man in the server is overwhelmingly negative, but has no damn idea how far it extends. How many people are in on whatever’s happening in that damn prison? How many people know what would make Dream, bold and bright and recklessly confident in all of Michael’s (rather limited) memories, into someone so quiet, unimposing, nervous? His head spins with the possibilities, with the ever-present reminder to not make a fuss, let the tournament pass on, to never, ever let anyone find out what’s going on within the SMP. Should he do anything at all?

Too soon, it’s morning, and he drags himself out of bed with a groan to glare at the sun streaming through his window. Somewhere, Quackity and Dream and Sapnap are also waking up, are preparing to compete in one of the biggest damn tournaments to exist. Michael sighs, glancing over to where he’s set out his outfit, freshly pressed and waiting. Any other day, and he’d probably be fucking ecstatic. Here, he buries his head in his hands, muffling a frustrated groan against the palm of his hands.

He loves MCC, but he sure as hell doesn’t like whatever the hell is going on with the rest of his team.

Getting into the server goes smoothly enough. The outfit is comfortable and looks damn good, props to whoever made the thing, and the sight of the multicolored crowd successfully manages to tamp down some of his nerves. He busies himself with saying hi to all of the members waiting in the lobby, happy for the chance to talk to some people he hasn’t seen in ages, feels the night of anxieties wash away with every stupid joke told and burst of laughter drawn from his lungs.

They come back the moment Scott steps up in front of the lobby. “Teams, it’s time to head to your team rooms! The tournament will begin in fifteen minutes,” Scott says, expression sunny and bright, “we’re wishing you all luck for a great performance today! May the best team win!”

In a flurry of movement, they’re all whisked to their rooms for a final few minutes of preparation and morale-boosting, and Michael enters the glorified dressing room to Quackity, Dream, and Sapnap already standing there, seemingly in the middle of conversation.

“You ready to win?” Sapnap yells, and Quackity whoops, and Michael manages a small cheer of his own. They’re all visibly nervous; Quackity has scarcely stopped moving, pacing from one side of the room to the next; Sapnap is basically jumping in place where he stands. Dream stands at the very back of the room, looking tense; Michael directs a wave his way and gets a small one in return.

“Game plan, game plan,” Quackity mutters, “do we know what games we’re playing first? Dream?”

He nods at Dream, and Dream stands up straighter, mouth falling open.

“Oh- um,” he hesitates, a strand of hair flopping forwards as he tilts his head in thought. “We’ll want to save Parkour Tag and Battle Box towards the end- maybe something more high-risk at the beginning, but not first, just to boost morale,” his teeth catch on his bottom lip, “Maybe something like To Get To The Other Side? If they have that- or Build Mart, if we can get it out of the way.” He shakes his head. “If that’s alright- I mean-”

“Great,” Quackity cuts in smoothly. “Sapnap? Michael? Does that sound good to you?”

Sapnap flashes a thumbs up, and Michael nods. “Yeah, sounds great. Thanks, Dream.”

Dream’s head snaps towards him, mouth slightly open in shock. The sight of it makes Michael’s gut twist uncomfortably; there’s something about how surprised he is, at the nervous hesitancy with which he spoke that was nothing like what Michael remembers of his easy leadership in that MCC with Techno, that doesn’t sit right at all in his stomach. Even with his expression largely hidden, there’s no mistaking the clear, genuine surprise on his face at the idea of someone thanking him - Michael tries to tell himself that he’s reading too much into it as Quackity continues to speak.

“We’re going to win,” he grins, just a little too sharp at the edges, “so get out there and play like your lives depend on it, yeah?”

Sapnap cheers, and again, Michael and Dream follow. It’s not until he’s outside the door, within the clamor of screaming teams and people counting down with the timer that Michael realizes that Quackity was staring at Dream the entire time.

---

Michael curses, frustrated, when he’s knocked off a platform again, making sure to flip Krinios the bird before he falls into the Void entirely. When he makes it to the other side, Quackity and Dream are already deep in conversation - if you can call it that. Even from here, it looks worryingly one-sided.

“-were you thinking, falling off there-” Quackity’s hand is on Dream’s shoulder, Dream standing stock-still in front of him, “you better be taking this seriously, Dream.”

“Hey- sorry about that,” Michael calls with a wave, “I swear Krinios had it out for me. At least I made it across, right?”

Quackity turns, startled, and in the split-second that it takes for him to register Michael’s appearance, his expression smooths over into something friendlier, more inviting. “Michael!” He says, enthusiastic, and it’s like the anger that had filled his words just seconds before was never there at all. “Don’t- don’t worry about it, man. We all kinda dropped the ball on that one, right Dream?”

The words should be encouraging, just simple ribbing between teammates. Dream’s mask is still ducked down, facing the floor, shoulders slightly hunched in.

“Um- Sapnap did pretty good,” Dream says, quiet, “he got top ten, right?”

Michael looks over to where Sapnap is standing a little ways away, seemingly busy typing on his communicator. Quackity laughs, sharp and loud.

“True,” he punches Dream lightly on the upper arm, and Michael watches the way he freezes the second the fist makes contact with his jacket, “come on, man, you’re losing your touch. You really gonna let yourself get beat by Sapnap?” he shakes his head, still laughing as he pulls open his communicator. “Jesus- even I beat you in that last round. Watch your spot, Dream, I’m coming for you.”

“I mean,” Michael says when a second passes and it becomes clear Dream isn’t going to respond, “Dream was doing pretty well with the last two rounds, right? I thought I saw his name pretty far up there.”

Quackity takes a second before responding, again, staring at Michael oddly as he does. “That’s true,” he concedes, “hey- I was just making a joke, don’t worry. It’s all for fun, right Dream?”

His gaze goes to Dream, and automatically, Michael follows. Dream seems to startle under the attention, twitching Quackity’s direction in the awkward silence that results. Michael watches as the mask slants slightly to face Quackity, as Quackity looks back at him with an intense, unreadable expression, shoulders strangely tense. Whatever unsaid conversation that seems to pass between them is entirely lost on Michael as Dream finally responds with a sudden, almost strangled bark of laughter.

“Yeah- just jokes,” his fingers twist over one another, hands held close together in front of his body, “Though Qu- Q’s right, I- I should probably pick it up. We’re playing to win.”

A ding alerts them to the end of the round, and Michael steadies himself in preparation for the teleport to the next map. As he turns, he catches Quackity’s expression, once again, and the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he continues to look at Dream.

“Good luck,” he calls just before they enter the next round, and tries not to think too much about what he’s saying it for.

---

They manage pretty well for the rest of To Get To The Other Side, finishing with a second place overall that got cheers from Sapnap and even a slight smile from Dream. Hole in the Wall, on the other hand, has been a lot less successful - though Michael will be the first to say that it’s his fault. His practice in the last few months has been lackluster (at best) and it definitely showed in the arena.

He leans over the railing, watching Dream and Sapnap through the crowd of participants left that have yet to be knocked out by the giant walls of slime. Quackity’s standing next to him, having been similarly thrown off the platform early in the round, expression tight and lips set in a small frown, and looking at him for too long makes Michael uneasy so he looks down at the arena again. They’re in the last round, and they’re supposed to be making callouts anyway for their teammates still participating below.

Without thinking, once again, Michael looks over at Dream. Sue him, he knows the guy best and Dream has been acting odd all day, to put it lightly. Even ignoring the part of him that’s screaming that something’s wrong, that there’s something up that has everything to do with the beanie-wearing man standing besides him, it only takes a few minutes of observation to see that Dream is - for the lack of a better word - off. Michael watches as he vaults over another wall, only barely managing to bring himself to his feet in time on the other side. Dream’s movements - even to his untrained eye - have always been fluid, effortless. He jumped and vaulted and ran like gravity didn’t exist, like every physics-bending maneuver he made was as easy as breathing. Michael remembers watching him sprint over the parkour course before, time completely unmatched as he appraised each obstacle and basically flew his way through, sounding hardly even winded when he whooped loudly in victory from the top of the salmon ladder. In total contrast, Dream jerks away from the coming wall again, movements sloppy and harsh as he scrambles to the other side of the disc-shaped arena. He’s still fast, and still making jumps, but everything is strangely angled where it had once been fluid, stopping and starting suddenly, moving in bursts of speed and then skidding to sudden stops.

“WEST!” Quackity shouts, and Michael watches as Dream’s head turns jerkily at the noise before he dives out of the way of the incoming wall and manages, barely, to twist around the side. Michael winces at the tumble he takes on the opposite side, clutching his chest slightly as he stands back up again.

“North!” Michael calls, because he should probably actually help his teammates, huh, and Dream manages to move around this one better, jumping through a hole in the wall and tucking and rolling as he lands. “Nice jump- East!”

It’s an easy wall, thankfully, and both Sapnap and Dream visibly take a breath as they stand in place for the wall to pass over them. As it passes, a droning buzz comes from the speakers, and the walls below them speed up.

“South-to your right!” Michael shouts as they turn, eyes turning between all of the false walls before finally focusing on the right one, his shout echoed by a similar one from Quackity. At each one of the calls from the man besides him, Dream seems to tighten further, movements increasingly erratic as he dodges and weaves around the walls. There’s still a lot of people left - Michael follows Dream through the crowd with a frown, watching as he and Sapnap jump the next wall, Dream’s foot nearly catching on the top edge.

“West-” Dream flinches, jumping over the two-high wall at the last possible second, landing completely off-balance on the other side and falling to the ground. He scrambles to his feet, but there’s already a wall at the west edge of the platform - his head turns, still searching for the wall - Quackity yells.

“LEFT!”

Something in Dream’s movements seem to shift, even in the distance - Michael watches as he immediately, almost robotically, steps to the left at Quackity’s voice, not even jumping, not turning his head to take in his surroundings, just moving instinctually at the words, and slams into the coming wall hard enough to get flung into the middle hole in the platform. Quackity curses, fist crashing into the railing as Dream falls and the chat message shows on their communicators, and a second later he’s materialized beside them, face oddly slack and mask focused somewhere faraway.

“Shit,” Dream mutters when he seems to come back into himself, shaking his head and then turning to the two of them, still by the railing, “Dammit. Sorry, I-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael cuts in before Quackity can speak. “You did good.”

“I-” Dream catches Quackity’s gaze, then pushes his head away, mask facing the ground. Something about it and his raised shoulders and the dark, angry glare that Quackity directs over the railing when Michael looks back makes him shift in place, uneasy. “Could’ve done better, ha. Sorry.”

The three of them watch, silent, as Sapnap continues to compete. He manages to get pretty damn far, making it to the top three, but getting knocked off-balance by a wall and off the platform just before the timer sounds. Michael cringes back at the sound of it over the speakers, watches the other contestants settle into place, panting, in victory.

“Great job, Sapnap,” Michael shouts when he materializes in front of them, and the other two are quick to echo his sentiments. If they sound a little duller than they should be, if Quackity’s jaw seems clenched and Dream’s all coiled up like a spring, far too tense, it’s from placing lower than they wanted and slipping in the rankings, not anything else.

Keep your head down, Michael reminds himself, and everything’s gonna be fine. And if the words ring more and more hollow with every repetition, well, that’s for him to ignore and for everyone else to never, ever find out.

---

Buildmart is chosen next, which they all groan at, but at least it’s going to be out early and not left to ruin all of their scores later. Michael takes his place at his build, one third from the left side - it’s some abomination of colored glass and white concrete meant, if he is to guess, to emulate a stained glass window. He’s between Dream and Sapnap, the former positioned in front of a flower-dotted grass field with a picnic table, the latter staring down a miniature car with black concrete for tires and stone buttons for detailing. He breathes a steady breath as they await the countdown, already planning for his trip to the Colors section to grab materials for his build and the others’- Buildmart isn’t his strongest game, but it’s not his worst either, and he’s damn well going to try his best.

He skids into the portal with an armful of colored concrete and glass, spilling half of its contents inside a chest before running to his build. He pulls himself to the crafting bench to craft - he squints at his build - he needs four red glass panes and 3 yellow, right. As he brings the panes to his inventory and begins laying out the frame of the build in concrete, he looks over to Dream, who is noticeably struggling with placing the flowers in his build and getting the placements to match that of the original. He knocks away a white tulip with a muffled curse, sounding frantic as he looks back to the original, and places it again to no avail.

It seems that his struggle hasn’t only caught Michael’s attention, as the statue to the leftmost side of the room explodes in gold coins and confetti - Quackity has finished his build and is now looking at Dream with narrowed eyes. Dream places the flower again, and the build refuses to respond. Quackity’s gaze narrows further, and he opens his mouth-

“Hey Quackity!” Michael starts speaking before he’s even noticed that he’s opened his mouth, fumbling as he regains awareness of what he’s doing and tries to find a direction for his sentence to go, “do you have any concrete?”

Quackity looks at him like he’s grown a second head, which is fair, considering there’s a block of white concrete pretty obviously visible in his hand. “Um- no? Weren’t you supposed to go to Colors?”

Dream finally manages to place the tulip where it belongs, and the build between them disappears in another explosion of gold glitter. Michael laughs awkwardly.

“Sorry- haha. I got a little mixed up.” He places the last piece of white concrete, watching as his own build disappears. A little wooden cottage takes its place, made of what appears to be just oak wood and cobblestone. “Are you going to get wood? Or should I?”

“I- You get wood,” Quackity shakes his head, visibly frustrated, “And I’ll get stone. We have to hurry, we’re falling behind.”

After that, Michael finds it a little too easy - or maybe not easy, but at least tolerable, to interrupt when Quackity looks a little like he’s about to fall on the side of being angry versus just annoyed, stepping between his angry glares at Dream with a forced smile and an incessant string of annoying questions-

“Hey Quackity, do you have any spare iron?”

“Hey Quackity, I think you placed that a little too far back.”

“Hey Quackity, can you take a look to see what I placed wrong?”

It’s not perfect. It’s hardly even functional; Michael knows that Quackity has begun with the habit of directing death glares at his back whenever he thinks he’s not looking, his responses to Michael’s questions becoming more and more clipped, often paired with irritated grumbles and sighs. Sapnap, when Michael looks at him, seems largely engrossed with his own builds, but he’s also begun looking over at the two of them with a vaguely dissatisfied expression, and Dream only seems to be getting more jumpy with every frustrated growl out of Quackity’s mouth. Even Michael’s forced levity and falsely ignorant questions can’t do much against Quackity’s anger when they walk out of Buildmart dead last for the minigame, dropping their team all the way down to seventh in the overall rankings, and the tension within the team as they walk out - Quackity nearly stomping, Dream following with his hands wringing around each other and head ducked fearfully - is almost enough to make Michael scream. He looks at the scoreboard with a worried expression as he enters the Decision Dome, trying to quell the sinking feeling in his gut.

There’s still five more games to go, and he’s not sure how long they can last before something snaps.

---

Battle Box is chosen next, and they react to the game with quiet cheers and slightly grim faces. Michael’s been in enough MCCs to know that this game, of any, is crucial - after their lacking performances in the last two games, a good showing at Battle Box will be crucial to pull them back into the competition and raise morale. With Sapnap and Dream, if this were any normal game, they should be able to sweep through a good amount of the competition without much effort. As it is, though, Michael looks at the two more combat-oriented members of his team with a worried expression, the two barely even able to meet each other’s eyes. Their interactions so far have been less than promising- if they can’t hold it together for this round, well.

Michael shakes his head. They’ll do fine. They have to.

Even so, the first round only seems to confirm his concerns - they get woolrushed almost immediately, and in Dream and Sapnap’s stumbling to get to mid, nearly crashing into each other and focusing their efforts on the same player by accident, the other team manages to fill out the wool, sending them back to the spawn box even more frustrated than before.

“Amazing teamwork, guys,” Quackity snarks immediately, and Michael rolls his eyes.

“Like you did that much.”

Sapnap is still staring at Dream oddly, Dream turning his head to avoid his gaze. The two of them look largely oblivious to Quackity and his whole deal, even as Quackity whirls around to give him the stink eye.

“You didn’t do anything either, if I remember correctly,” Quackity mutters, and Michael shrugs.

“Fair.”

A ding alerts them to the round’s end, and they resign themselves to preparing for the next round. Michael picks the extra arrows from the wall, knowing that no one else will want the kit, and watches as Dream anxiously runs his hands over the crossbow.

The next round goes better, barely; Michael and Quackity end up knocked out pretty early, but Dream and Sapnap manage to kill the rest of the team soon after. He watches from the box as they fill in the wool, Dream looking awfully tense as he shears away the white wool for Sapnap to fill it with red. Quackity watches them both with a tight expression, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Michael turns away, ignoring him, going back to watching Dream and Sapnap still standing within the arena. Both of them look awkward, oddly out of step with each other - Michael’s not watched them fight much, but he knows that they have a reputation as a pair, was there for the Sky Battle round where they completely wiped through the competition. Even here, Sapnap moves forward and Dream flinches back - there’s something heavy and tense between them, lingering in the few words they’ve spoken to each other, if they’ve even spoken to each other at all, one always rushing forward too fast or following just a little too slow. They’re still brilliant fighters, almost unrivaled in hand-to-hand combat and with swords, but the faltering communication is sure to hurt them more in the future.

His worries come true just three rounds later, the two in between being narrow wins for their team, each a little more shaky than would be comfortable. Michael has found himself easing off the worst of his anxiety in verbally sparring with Quackity, jabbing at the other with offhand remarks and little needling jokes to keep his attention off the other two, especially as his glare has become more pronounced and his words more angry. Even so, nothing he does or can do will fix the odd tension between Dream and Sapnap, whose communication remains as stilted and awkward as ever.

They’re facing a stronger team, PVP wise, with Punz and Seapeekay, and Michael ends up falling in a bow duel against Jack. He watches as the Captain falls to a potion by Sapnap, then as Jack is taken out by a crossbow bolt courtesy of Dream, just before Quackity falls to a well-timed bow shot from the opposing team.

That leaves the strongest PVPers to battle it out, and Dream and Sapnap manage to team up and kill CPK - but not without taking a nasty damage potion to the face that must leave the two of them low. Michael watches Punz, booking it to mid with a crossbow, anxiously - both of them would be a oneshot with the thing, and on the condition that he takes no damage before fighting with either of them outright, he’s probably got enough health to hold out a few hits.

Sapnap pulls out a health potion, and Michael grins - that’ll be good for the two of them, and should secure them the win - only for him to gesture roughly with his sword and for Dream to stagger backwards, panic flashing over his face. He only seems to grow more fearful at the sound of glass shattering on the ground, falling backwards further - far enough to be largely out of range of health pot - and in their shock, Punz manages to catch both of them off guard and nail Sapnap with a crossbow bolt that downs him for the round before similarly dispatching Dream in two hits of his sword.

Sapnap explodes upon respawn in the box - “What was that? I had a health pot!”

“I-” Dream fumbles, face still oddly pale, “Sorry I didn’t- I- I-”

“We had that round!” Sapnap’s arms flail forward as he gestures angrily, Dream freezing further as one hand skims past his shoulder. “I can’t believe- I had a health pot! Punz was on, like, half! We could’ve killed him!”

“Easy, easy,” Quackity moves forward, putting a hand on both of their shoulders - Sapnap seems to relax immediately, while Dream, if anything, only looks more tense. “It’s time for the next round - we’ll talk about this later, alright?”

Dream nods, movements overly tense, and Quackity flashes a toothy smile his way as Sapnap moves back, still mumbling to himself. He and Quackity move to talk in the back corner, words quiet enough that Michael cannot make them out, and something sick and cold slithers over his spine. Sapnap and Quackity are fiancés, aren’t they?

Michael looks over at Dream, mask still covering his face as he looks away through the glass to the arena, shoulders still tight as Michael’s pretty sure they’ve been for as long as he’s seen him since he came onto the server. He remembers the panic that make itself obvious on his face every time Quackity came up to him, even as covered as it is, the similar- if not the same- fear that had painted his face when he respawned fresh off of the Battle Box round after Sapnap’s sword had passed a little too close to his body.

Quackity and Dream- he’s sure, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, that there’s something going on there, dark and dreadful and poisonous. Who’s to say that Sapnap isn’t involved, as well?

---

They finish Battle Box decently well, but not as well as they’d hoped, pulling them up to fifth place with a decently large gap between them and fourth. Quackity and Dream disappear immediately as the Audience Votes begin coming in, leaving Sapnap and Michael to stand awkwardly in the lobby to wait for the rest of their team to come back. Michael watches the crowd for a glimpse of Quackity and Dream, comes up empty. A sigh fizzles through his teeth as he looks up into the sky, the endless blue doing little to ease his nerves - he’s worried, even if he doesn’t want to think about it, for his teammates. For Dream.

It doesn’t take a genius to see that the man is scared of Quackity, that there’s an odd sort of history there that Michael conveniently has no information about. Whatever it is, it’s left Dream unsure and uncharacteristically nervous, left the entire team floundering without proper leadership to tie them all together. Really, a part of him knows that the Championships should be the least of his concerns - if he were braver, or a little better at combat, or a little less inclined to just let things pass as they always have, then he’d be raising a fuss. Getting in the way, talking to Dream, doing something other than making backhanded compliments to Quackity that he’s sure have been doing little more than annoy the man further.

“Michael?” Sapnap comes within his line of sight, lips pressed together in a carefully put-together expression that Michael is sure will collapse the moment they’re away from others’ prying eyes, “Can we speak for a moment?”

Michael forces another easy smile to his face as he turns towards his teammate, feels a little disgusted at the amount of them he’s had to use to simply function with the rest of his team. “Sure! Where to?”

They walk at a brisk pace to the team room, Sapnap’s eyes focused forwards the entire time, not speaking. If he’s being honest, it’s a little awkward, but the lighthearted comment on his tongue to break the silence dies out the minute Sapnap closes the door and looks back at him with fierce, focused eyes boring into him.

“What’s your deal?” He hisses immediately, words pitched low even though he doesn’t really have to - there’s no one nearby, and the team rooms are decently soundproofed. Michael feels his hackles rising as Sapnap’s arms cross in front of him, eyes still focused on his own as he talks. “I’m not going to lie- I don’t know you that well, even though you’re on the SMP now, but can you quit it with Quackity already?”

“Quit what?” Michael snarks - sue him - matching Sapnap’s tone with irritation of his own.

“Don’t- you’ve been antagonizing Quackity all day,” Sapnap’s hand runs through his hair, messing up his hair and tangling it into knots, “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re kind of in the middle of a competition here? So it’d be really nice if you could save the fighting for until after we’re done?”

“Says you?” Michael can’t help the retort this time, huffing irately at the offended expression that flashes over the other’s face, “I don’t really know if you’ve noticed, but your teamwork has been a little less than stellar, today. Pot calling the kettle black, much?”

“What-” Sapnap looks confused, even through his anger, gesturing more and more wildly. “What do you even mean?”

“Oh, so are we just ignoring what just happened in Battle Box then?”

Sapnap’s eyes flash as he closes into himself again, hands gripping at his upper arms as he crosses his arms in front of his chest once again. “That- that’s different. That’s because of Dream.”

“Oh, just keep blaming it on the other guy, why don’t you?”

“No-” Sapnap shakes his head furiously. “You haven’t been on here for nearly as long, you don’t get it, Michael. Dream- he’s-,” Sapnap flails, and Michael groans at the familiar words.

“Dream’s what? I was on the team with the guy before, you know. It’s kind of the reason why he invited me in the first place?” He raises an eyebrow. “We worked together perfectly well then - am I supposed to believe that his self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ can’t do the same?”

“You don’t understand,” Sapnap repeats, expression hard and oddly far away, “Dream- he’s changed- he’s done so many terrible things. I don’t know what he’s said to convince you, but he’s bad news, man. He’s hurt- so many people.”

“Oh- you want to talk about hurting people?”

Michael isn’t quite sure what comes over him - only really realizes a white-hot flash of rage lancing through his chest, a sleepless night and half a competition’s worth of anxiety and frustration and build up combining into a sizzling spike of fury that briefly tinges his vision red.

“How about the way Dream looks like he’s about to keel over whenever anyone gets close to him? How about how he flinches back at literally every loud noise and fast movement? How about how Quackity’s been making these stupid, angry comments at him for the entire competition that make him freeze for a minute each time? Or how about when you were in Battle Box and Dream backed away from your sword like he thought you were gonna drive it through his chest?” Michael barely feels himself stepping forward with each word, jabbing his index finger into the other’s chest. “You want to talk about hurting people? How about you go talk to that fiancé of yours and then come back to talk?”

A loud, droning buzz comes over the speakers, alerting them of the end of the break. Michael steps back, face flushed in embarrassment, before the world whirls away and they’re teleported back into the Decision Dome.

He adamantly refuses to meet Sapnap’s eyes as Quackity and Dream materialize in the sector with them, Quackity’s hand clamped around Dream’s upper arm as the other man keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, looking even more panicked and frozen than before the break.

“You ready to win?” Quackity laughs, and Michael watches as his hand tightens around the sleeve of Dream’s jacket, knuckles paling from the strain.

“Yeah,” Michael tries to cheer, and it feels like ash on his tongue. “Let’s do this.”

---

Survival Games ends up being picked next - Quackity and Sapnap quickly pull up to the front of the group, close enough to be within eyesight but too far to really pick up their conversation. Michael keeps an eye out for the reddish glow of their bodies as they scout the surrounding areas for chest, staying back with Dream as they look at the other side of the road. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a smug sort of satisfaction of Sapnap seemingly confronting Quackity about whatever the hell has been going on, as awkward as his whole outburst had been. As it is, some time with Dream is nice without Quackity watching over his shoulder like a hawk - he directs a small, genuine smile at the man by his side that Dream seems to do a double take at before shyly returning it with one of his own.

“There- I think I see a chest,” Michael points under a lamppost, running to the wooden box and flicking the lid upwards. He pulls out a chain chestplate that he promptly puts on himself, then throws over the iron boots to his teammate as well as a small stone axe that he’s sure Dream will make better use of. “We should probably catch up to the others - don’t want to be caught off guard while separated.”

Dream nods, and the two of them pick up the pace before finding another chest that Dream rummages through, this time, finding an iron sword that Michael takes for himself and a cake.

“You’ve been doing really well so far,” Michael says after a few minutes of quiet, words becoming more firm when Dream looks up at him with a surprised expression. “Seriously- you’ve been doing great, man.”

“Thanks,” Dream smiles, words quiet and terribly sincere, and the sinking pit in Michael’s gut returns at the tone. “Not as good as I should, though. I’ve been underperforming a lot,” he laughs a little at the words, but even to Michael’s ears it rings hollow. “It’s not over yet, though.”

“No it’s not,” Michael concedes, rearranging his inventory as they run. “But it’s good enough, man, really - just look at my rankings.”

Dream huffs. “You’ve been doing good, Michael.”

“And you’ve been doing a hell of a lot better than me,” Michael tips his head in his direction. “Give yourself some more credit, man. You’ve been playing well.”

Dream smiles again, but even now the corners of his mouth seem tight, tense. “I need to play better, though, if we want to win,” he says, matter-of-fact, analytical to a damn fault. Michael rolls his eyes, but nods to concede the point.

“Sure, but that goes for all of us, Dream,” he shakes his head. “And it’s okay if we don’t win, you know?”

“No.”

Michael turns, frowning. Dream’s tone has become oddly flat, eyes dead as he continues to stare at the pavement under their feet. He seems to be chewing on his lip anxiously, startled out of his own thoughts when he looks up to meet Michael’s gaze. “I mean- I don’t know. I really have- want to win.”

There’s something so carefully worded about the admission, quiet and scraped open and raw in the slow sincerity of the words. Michael wants to poke at it, wants to understand what’s left him so unsure of every step, what determination lies behind the words that has left desperation clinging to every shallow breath he draws. A crack of thunder on the horizon, heralding a player’s death, reminds him that now is not the time.

Keep your head down.

“Alright,” he smiles thinly, hoping that the fracturing, yawning pit of emptiness in his chest isn’t obvious in the words. “Then we’re going to win.”

---

Michael skids to a stop at the finish line, feeling the elytra deequip as he’s thrown into spectator mode. He runs his hands through his wind-tousled hair, feeling it strain against his fingers as he roughly finger-combs it back into place. Dream and Sapnap are off to the side, standing next to each other but seemingly not speaking - Michael smiles as he floats over, still shaking the adrenaline off from the race.

“Hey,” the two look up, smile in recognition, and Dream waves; there’s a small smile on his face, strained but present. “You both did really good!”

“Thanks, Michael,” Dream laughs, earnest, “I did decent, I guess- haha. Top ten at least.”

Sapnap whoops. “We’re popping off!” Michael cheers in agreement, and their efforts manage to pull Dream’s smile a little wider as he ducks his head to look away again.

“Thanks, guys.”

They watch as Quackity flies through the finish line, appearing in front of them and shaking his arms out as he gets his bearings.

“Geez- that trident,” he shakes his head, looks up. “Hey, there you guys are. How’d we do?”

“Dream got seventh,” Sapnap scrolls through his comm, looking through the rows of contestants and their times as they come in, interspersed by the occasional chat message, “And I got 10th. Michael got- 28th, I think? And you got 32nd.”

“Hmm,” Quackity hums, “What do you think, Dream? Is that good enough to pull us to Dodgebolt?”

Once again, Michael watches as Dream stiffens under the scrutiny, head ducking down and looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Um- I don’t know,” Dream mumbles, “I messed up a trident- fell into the void once, probably could’ve done better otherwise-” his voice trails off, tensing further as Quackity takes his usual spot by his side, jabbing an elbow none-too-lightly into his ribs.

“But you didn’t, though,” Quackity says, tone flippant, ��so what do you think? With those placements- is it going to be enough?”

“Hey, we did great, man,” Michael glares at him, more forward than he’d usually be - but all he can see is the shoulder that he has pressed against Dream’s arm, the way Dream’s stood stock still since the moment he made contact, “Lay off of Dream, would you? He did great.”

“Yeah, Q,” Michael’s eyebrows raise in surprise as Sapnap chimes in from the side, rising further when Sapnap moves forward to link his arm with Quackity’s own and half-drag him away from Dream. “Chill out, man, we popped off. We’re gonna fucking win this, ok?”

Quackity’s lips press together; he’s still smiling, but there’s no mistaking the seething darkness that lingers in his narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows, gaze still trained on the pale off-white disk of Dream’s mask. Still, with the rest of the team against him, he’s in a losing fight and he knows it; Michael watches as he visibly backs down, rolling his shoulders back as he lets Sapnap pull him further back.

“We’re going to fucking win this,” he repeats, and Michael wonders how he manages to make the words sound so much like a threat.

---

“Sky battle,” Sapnap calls as the decision dome below them lights up in confirmation of the penultimate game, expression immediately becoming more focused as he turns back to the rest of the team. “Alright- strats, what are we thinking?”

“There’s the iron at spawn,” Dream starts, interrupted by the teleport to the Sky Battle arena, making him cut himself off comically and take a second to shake off the resulting disorientation, “And then there’s the iron in the nearby island. We gotta pick one, tower as soon as we can.”

“Got it,” Sapnap looks down, seemingly calculating, before looking up again - Michael has heard him compared to fire before, but he thinks this is the first time he’s really seen it; there’s a veritable blaze burning in his eyes as he looks at each member of the team, easily taking charge as they prepare for the first round. “Same buddy system as Survival Games - Q, stick with me, Michael, stick with Dream. I’ll tower to the next island- Dream, you good with getting the iron at spawn and crafting armor for us?”

Dream startles, before flashing a small thumbs up at the other - Sapnap smiles wider, teeth bared dangerously.

“This is our game,” he cheers, and Michael enthusiastically whoops in reply, “we’re winning this, you got that team? Let’s go!”

This, Michael thinks, is the way the games should’ve gone - they jump into action upon the start of the game, Michael watching as Dream races through both chests on the spawn island, getting the iron and jumping down cleanly with a water bucket before following Sapnap’s bridge to the other island. He tosses over a pair of leggings and boots as he lands, then takes Sapnap’s excess iron to craft the other pieces of iron for himself and Sapnap as the other man begins shooting at opposing teams. Their communication is near wordless, simple one- or two-word requests communicating all they need as they follow each other seamlessly into the main arena area, sealing off their entrance as they search the ring for other teams.

Sapnap, especially, seems to have shifted - instead of waiting for Dream to take the lead, he seems comfortable barrelling on forward on his own, trusting for Dream to follow his steps. Michael watches as the two of them easily work through the two lagging members of Orange, shooting through a gap in the wall to catch an unsuspecting Yellow player chased by the border. Michael ends up dying to an unlucky block of TNT placed on his head - curses out what appears to be Quig, bounding over to the other side of the arena, and follows Dream and Sapnap as they continue to fight their way through the competition.

It’s not perfect, for sure - Dream hesitates at a bad place a minute later, ending with Sapnap getting 2v1ed and exploding in a flash of red sparkles. Dream is similarly dispatched a few seconds after, and the three of them watch Quackity, caught in the crossfire of two other teams, before he also goes down.

“Good work, team,” Sapnap says as he appears, disoriented, in spectator mode, and they watch the remaining two teams battling in a rapidly shrinking border before Fruit falls as well, leaving Pink as the winners. “That was close- we’ve got this.” The conviction in his voice leaves no room for argument, and Michael, briefly, feels bad for anyone that stands in the way of it.

With the second round, they once again fall into rhythm without any major hiccups - someone tries to cut them off before entering the main arena, but are made quick work of by Sapnap’s relentless onslaught. As Michael watches, Dream seems to regain confidence as well, moving more to fight with Sapnap side by side instead of just playing support, tugging him back from a risky play and catching Punz in a nasty combo that does him in when he manages to slip past Sapnap.

The four of them end up in the final stand off in the middle, but end up getting caught too high up and killed by the border before they can jump down. Sapnap hisses at the narrow defeat, but the disappointment has hardly seemed to dim his determination - if anything, it seems to burn brighter.

“Last round,” he mutters, and Michael watches as Dream walks up to him, bumping him lightly with his shoulder.

“This is our game,” he says, a small smile appearing on his face, and Sapnap returns it with a fiery, blinding one of his own.

“Ours,” he says, and even just standing on the side, watching - Michael believes it.

Still, his concerns have yet to disappear - they linger in his mind as they jump into an adrenaline-filled last round, jumpy from excitement and victory just within their grasps. Dream is still more jittery than he should be, taking a second more than usual to react to fights, and his teamwork with Sapnap - while good - is still noticeably rusty. Michael’s lips thin at the memory of Dream backing away from Sapnap’s sword in Battle Box, hunched into himself, almost on the floor, with a clearly desperate edge to his expression - and no matter how he tries, he can’t quite manage to shake it off.

Unfortunately enough, the third round doesn’t bode well for them from the start - Quackity gets bowed off while bridging to the main arena, and upon entrance there they end up flanked, hard, by another team in a conflict that gets Michael killed within seconds. Sapnap and Dream book it to the other side of the arena, where they manage to work through a full team without too much trouble - but the next minute brings another half-team flying at them from the back, catching them in the middle of trying to recuperate. The two focus Dream in the middle of eating a steak, and Michael watches as Dream steps back instead of moving forward to fight, that same shade of fear making his muscles seize as he stands, stock still, watching helplessly as swords fly his way- Michael cries out, but there’s nothing he can do-

Between one blink and the next, Sapnap is standing in front of Dream, a snarl painting his features as he whirls through both players in a fury. Michael watches, awed, as his sword weaves and dances between the two attacking Dream, making quick work of them both until they’re no more than items scattered over the ground, then grabs Dream by the wrist and drags him up a nearby ladder onto the upper floor, plopping him by the wall and then backing off.

Sapnap stands back as Dream sits against the wall, breathing fast and labored, dropping to his knees with his hands in front of him, palms up, no weapons in hand. Michael watches, frantic, for the signs of any teams nearby - with Dream panicking and Sapnap’s back to the rest of the arena, they’d be easy pickings - but for once, luck seems to be on their side, because no one comes. Dream heaves a breath through his lungs, deep and shuddery - Sapnap watches, lips flat from concern, but doesn’t speak.

“You good to continue?” he asks, when Dream seems calm enough to recognize his surroundings, and Dream looks up at the words, jaw slack from shock and disorientation, before his head dips in a firm nod.

“Good,” Sapnap smiles, tight-lipped and fiercely determined, fiercely loyal, as he reaches out a hand that Dream moves to take. “Let’s go fuck them up, yeah? You and me, just like we used to.”

Michael watches, heart in his chest, as they stand together to face the rest of the competition, towering towards the middle and facing off with the remaining teams, watches as they move forwards through explosions and buckets of lava, coalescing onto the middle island, as they battle through the remaining opponents as one in a clean spiral of clashing blades and flying arrows, fighting with their backs to each other in the center of the arena. He watches as a well-placed fishing rod by Dream knocks their final opponent off the platform, leaving them in the middle, triumphant, as the only remaining team -

Watches, a brilliant, bubbling laugh in his chest as Dream and Sapnap take their spots in the middle of the arena, standing side by side as Sapnap raises Dream’s hand in victory, both laughing and cheering into the sky.

---

Their performance in Sky Battle manages to pull them to third - but second place still stands a few hundred coins away, and they watch anxiously as Parkour Tag is chosen as the last game and they are transported over the arena.

“Last game,” Sapnap calls, “We’ve got this, alright?”

He gets terse, short nods in return - it’ll be a close game, and even Michael is feeling the pressure. He breathes a soft, quiet breath through his teeth as they prepare, looking over to the opposite team as they choose their hunters and runners.

“Dream, you up to hunting first four?” Sapnap seems to be watching the effects of his words more, waiting for Dream’s agreement before moving forward, sliding into the position of leader easily when Dream seems to struggle. Dream nods and steps into the hunter’s box, lips pressed together, flat and focused, and Michael turns back to the arena to plan out his route.

Parkour, by far, is not his strong suit. It hadn’t been his strong suit during Parkour Warrior and sure as hell isn’t it now - he enjoys it well enough, but with the pressure of a hunter on him or the time creeping past and the competition standings hanging over his head like a guillotine, he’s prone to slipping up and he knows it. The map is full of dizzying, multi-colored structures and difficult jumps, the twists and turns of the arena making his head spin. Being good at parkour is more than being good at movement - it involves being able to make split-second decisions and execute them with no time to hesitate. Unfortunately, Michael isn’t particularly good at any of that, so Parkour Tag mostly just stresses him the hell out.

He sets out to the arena, listening for callouts over comms as he fumbles over the buildings. Halfway through the game, Dream’s voice comes through comms, quiet, focused.

“Gottem.”

“Nice, Dream,” Michael smiles, trying not to trip over a particularly hard jump, only to fall to being tagged in the back by the opposing team’s hunter - Ant, if he remembers right. “Sapnap and Q are still in- we’ve got this.”

Once again, each time, Dream races through the opposing team in seconds, seemingly going faster with each round. Michael has heard his reputation as a hunter before, but only now is he really appreciating the extent - the speed at which he manages to dispatch all three opponents is downright terrifying. They manage to win all four rounds, lingering around second place overall on the leaderboards, before Sapnap and Dream switch off for hunting.

With each round, Michael watches Dream in the lobby, watching as he tenses further in focus and determination and no small degree of fear, but it hadn’t been nearly as obvious in between rounds. Now, with him in the arena with Quackity and himself, Dream’s jumpiness is all that more palpable, adrenaline making him pace and jump in place from where he stands at the edge of the place. The glass lowers, and he explodes into motion, bounding on top of the nearest tower to wait for the hunter to come towards them.

Michael ends up caught first, early in the round, once again, and resolves to following Dream over the glass to watch his movements and make callouts for the hunter chasing behind him. Watching Dream move through the arena, dodging below fixtures and through tunnels and jumping from tower to tower with seemingly no regard for gravity pulling him down, it’s become all the more obvious that this is his element. He makes another hairpin turn around a pole, kicking himself up over a tower and then diving from it to a nearby building, landing on a ledge inside it, hands clutching the wall - Michael watches, quietly awed, as he outlasts the hunter, landing in small, panting breaths in the lobby.

“Great work,” he cheers, quiet, as Dream shakes off the last dregs of the adrenaline, all of them watching the leaderboard anxiously, “Just three more rounds, alright?”

The rounds that follow continue in much of the same vein - Dream, once he’s gotten started, seems near-impossible to chase down; Michael and Quackity provide support, distracting the hunter for as long as they can until they get tagged, but part of him wonders if it’s all even necessary. Dream flies from structure to structure seemingly unhindered by The Laws That Be, expression firm, if a little frantic, as he parkours his way through the arena. To their credit, the hunters chase, and several come pretty close - but Dream, worked up on adrenaline or anxiety or some twisted mix of the two, races over and around the buildings within the arena like his life depends on it.

It’s a surprisingly (if sickeningly) apt description - the skill in parkour is far from unacknowledged on Dream’s record; they all know his reputation with Parkour Warrior, all know that there are little that can match his skill as a traucer - but there’s something newly desperate in the way he runs, the muscles of his body tight and taut even in between rounds, expression permanently tight at the corners from fear. His movements, lacking in their usual fluidity, are made up with sheer speed and mad scrambles up walls that no one else seems to dare replicate. It’s concerning, even to Michael’s untrained eye, how frantic he seems the entire time, the flashes of expressions that he’ll direct towards the hunter like being caught by them will be his end, but- if anything, at least it’s effective.

Between his parkour and Sapnap’s own skill, they manage to dominate the other teams without much issue, and the bonuses from eliminating the other team first combined with Dream’s survival points each round land them a first place for the game by just a few hundred coins. The four of them watch with bated breaths for the event standings, whooping and cheering together when it shows the red rabbits in second -

“DODGEBOLT, BABY!” Quackity cheers, loudly, and the rest of them join him, laughing and screaming incoherently, “LET’S FUCKING GO!”

“LET’S FUCKING GO!” Sapnap punches the air with a loud, resolute whoop of joy, and Dream - still shaking off the jitters of his last round in Parkour Tag - soon joins in with a few cheers of his own.

Michael watches them all with a smile on his face as they cheer in victory - Dodgebolt has them against the Yellow Yaks, which will be a hard match up, but between Dream and Sapnap’s skill, if they all stay focused, they shouldn’t have any issue.

They’ve done it. They’ve made it to Dodgebolt - if they keep their heads in the game, then they should win. All he has to do is keep his head down a little longer, long enough to win them the game, long enough for them to go home with new crowns and new coins, long enough for him to go back to living his quaint little life in his quaint little house - going back to heckling the Warden at night and hanging with Bad and Puffy, working on builds and living life away from the rest and pretending that nothing is wrong. The server will go back to normal come tomorrow, and it will all be okay.

The smile slips off his face.

They’ve done it. And then they’ll go back to the SMP, and Dream might evade whatever immediate consequences come with losing, but there’s no evidence that whatever’s caused that heartstopping, devastating fear that has characterized his every move is going to stop. They’ll win, and they’ll go back to the SMP, and they’ll keep dying and fighting wars and keep pretending that the world they live in is normal; they’ll go back to the server, and Michael will go back in his house while Dream goes back into his cell directly across from it, still locked in a black box with no way in or out, no means of communication with anyone outside, locked away with the key thrown away for anything to happen with no one to know-

Michael glances over to Dream, to the tense edge of his shoulders that has never left for as long as the tournament has continued and long before. To the grey-faced, grey-eyed inhabitants of the SMP, coming to the Championships with sealed lips and a shared determination to never reveal that anything is wrong, to pretend that things are normal and move on.

Michael’s hands clench into fists at his side, then unclench, the helplessness cutting through his excitement like a splash of cold water straight through his chest. They’ll win the Championship, and then what? They’ll go back to the server, and then what?

He looks up at the sky, avoiding the eyes of the rest of his team as they are teleported to the arena. Around him, nothing comes in reply.

---

“Shit-”

Sapnap disappears in a flourish of red particles, and Michael winces as Dream picks up the arrow he left behind, biting his lip as he watches the opposite side maneuver on the ice.

Both of Dream’s shots hit true, and Michael switches to dodging over the ice as the opposing team begins to shoot. His mind is still buzzing with uncertainty, questions whirling around his skull and making his head spin, the reminder to just let things be raging against the anxiety that has wormed its way deep into his bones for the better part of the day. His performance has fallen a bit as a result, and they’re tied, 2-2, for the last round of Dodgebolt against Yellow - winner takes all.

He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to tell, but he wants to fall back into the background. He wants to make a difference, but also wants nothing more than to go on pretending that everything is fine. It would be so, so easy to move on and wash his hands of the whole affair - it’s not like anyone else will know, only himself and the guilt that he’s sure will haunt him to remind him of his failures. Is there even anything he can do? He’s no genius at combat, or parkour, or strategy- all he has are his eyes, his ability to see what the hell is happening with no means to change any of it.

An arrow whizzes towards him, too low to hit, and falls to the ice by his feet. Michael feels it plop into his inventory as he runs past it, shivering slightly from the cold or adrenaline or some mix of the two - not that he can really tell. The other team still has an arrow, the gleaming arrowhead catching the light as the person shooting - Jack, it looks like - moves it from one side to the other, looking for someone to aim. Michael lets the arrow into his hand, feeling its weight.

A sudden shock of clarity.

He staggers back and nearly trips over his own feet, feeling relief rock his body when he manages to catch his balance - his eyes rake over the rest of his team, still dodging over the ice, completely focused on the opposing side. He worries his lip between his teeth - it’s a risk. It’s a hell of a risk, and if he messes up - they’re fucked. They’re more than fucked. There’s a good chance that this does more harm than good, a good chance that it won’t do anything at all.

Michael takes a deep breath, and nocks his arrow.

With his bow pointed to the floor, he doesn’t think anyone’s noticed yet - especially the rest of his team, gazes still trained over the centerline to the other side of the arena. Michael plants his feet, raises his bow, aims - he’s standing still, too still, and he can already see Jack swinging the bow towards him from the corner of his eye, preparing to let the arrow fly directly at him. That’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

Keep your head down.

Michael lets go, and Quackity manages to turn just in time to see the arrow hit him between his eyes.

Not this time.

Michael just manages a wicked, satisfied smirk before the world disappears in a flash of red.

---

“What the hell was that?”

Michael teleports into the middle of the MCC main lobby, finding Quackity already mid-yell in front of the podium, where the Yellow Yaks have taken their places as the winners of the Championships, new, shining crowns on their heads as they greet the crowd with smiles and cheers. Michael turns to where the rest of the team has gathered in the corner, Quackity hissing angrily at Dream, curled into himself against the fence.

“I- I-”

“You lost us the fucking game, that’s what you did,” Quackity grabs him by the arm, rage painting his features as he yanks Dream closer to him, ignoring the other’s panicked yell at the proximity and flailing to get away. “What the fuck- you had both the arrows. How the fuck did you miss that?”

“Back the hell off, Quackity.”

Michael steps forward, bodily shoving Quackity out of the way - Dream’s head rises just enough for the two eyes painted on his mask to look above where they’d been hidden behind his arms, though Michael’s far too lost in his own anger to pay any mind to him at the moment. Quackity turns his furious direction towards Michael, only seeming to get angrier as he meets his eyes.

“Oh, fuck off, Michael- you-” he rakes a hand through his hair, “You fucking- we fucking lost because of you, you know that? We had that! We were going to win that, you fucker-”

“And then what, Quackity?” The words Michael had been pushing back the entire day come forth, mixed with his simmering anxiety and muffled anger that he’d been forced to push down, game after game after game, one bubbling mess of emotion underscoring his tone and making Quackity rear back, “Then you’ll go back the SMP and pretend that everything’s fine and dandy? Go back to your shiny little country with a shiny new coin, beat up Dream a few times to work off the adrenaline because, hey, it’s not like anyone else is gonna know if he’s black and blue inside of that shitstain of a prison, is that right?”

The flash of panic that makes its way over Quackity’s face is more than enough to confirm the worst of Michael’s assumptions, and the rage that has made a home in his chest only burns hotter.

“What- what the fuck did he say?” Quackity barely manages to catch onto his tone, pressing harder with narrowed eyes and a snarl, “He’s lying, you fucking idiot, that’s all he ever fucking does-”

“He’s not told me shit,” Michael presses forward, forcefully pushing Quackity away from Dream, who is cowering from both of them behind him, “But you would know a hell of a lot about that, wouldn’t you Quackity?”

“I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re on about, pal,” Quackity shakes his head, hair whipping past his eyes, “And I’d recommend you shut your fucking mouth before you go around hurling baseless accusations- I could have you sued for defamation, you know-”

“Oh, we’re talking law, now? Fine! We’ll talk legalities- how about we start with that casino of yours and work from there?”

Sapnap moves over, quiet thus far as he watched from the sidelines, and Michael watches as Quackity relaxes, minisculely, at his approach - only to tense further when Sapnap presses a hand to his shoulder, meeting his eyes with blazing eyes staring right at his.

“Q,” Sapnap says, voice uncharacteristically serious, “tell the truth, now- what did you do?”

Quackity laughs - it sounds unsure, even in Michael’s ears, “Sapnap? You can’t tell me you believe-” he waves his hands frantically, “this- this fucking asshole, now, do you hear him? He sounds- he’s literally out of his fucking mind-”

Sapnap shakes his head, firm. “Quackity, I’ll need you to cut the bullshit. What did you do?”

“He’s backing up Dream, Sapnap,” Quackity focuses his gaze on Sapnap, something creeping up in his tone, sweet and cloying despite the bitter tone, that Michael can’t quite recognize, “You know what Dream is like- he pulled the same shit with you, remember? You and George? Tommy?” He waves a hand at Dream, who ducks down further at the attention, “He hasn’t changed, man! He’s still pulling the same bullshit, still manipulating people for the hell of it- you know, the exact same thing he did to you? Don’t fall for that again, man.”

“I-” Sapnap seems to hesitate, conflict warring over his features.

“Look at me, Sap - you know what Dream’s like. He pretends to be your friend, makes up some stupid bullshit to justify his shit - Michael hasn’t been around for as long, not like the two of us, remember? He doesn’t know.” Quackity brings his hand to Sapnap’s own, ignoring Michael’s protests as he laces their fingers together, “I care about you, Sap. All of this- I’m just worried that he’ll end up manipulating you again. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“...liar.”

“What?”

Sapnap steps back, wrenching his hand out of Quackity’s own. His expression, out of what Michael can see from the sliver of his face that is facing him, is stormy with fury and no small amount of regret - Quackity steps back, unease finally beginning to flicker in the corners of his self-satisfied expression as Sapnap stares him down.

“You’re a liar, Quackity.” Sapnap draws himself up. “Now, I’m asking this for the last time- what did you do?”

Quackity’s expression stutters, falls, as Sapnap stands back next to Michael, the two of them between him and Dream. His eyes flick between their faces, then to Dream, then back again, frown deepening with every pass he makes between the three of them. Michael keeps his arms crossed in front of his chest, feeling his muscles tense with every second of silence that ticks by, Quackity seeming to grow more and more angry and tense under their scrutiny and unforgiving stances-

-a second passes, and he throws himself forward.

“Quackity!”

Michael only manages to throw himself out of the way of the man barrelling towards him just in time - too late, he realizes that he wasn’t Quackity’s intended target. He tackles Dream to the ground, pinning the taller man underneath himself onto the ground in a rough thump that seems to knock all the air out of him. Dream immediately begins to thrash aimlessly, jaw going slack in panic as Quackity levels his arm against his neck, going still as Quackity presses harder against his windpipe. Michael is only barely close enough to pick up what he says over the sound of the surrounding screaming, Sapnap rushing forward to pull Quackity off to no avail-

“-make what I did two weeks ago look like a fucking joke when we get back, going to make you wish you fucking died-”

The world explodes into white.

When Michael’s vision clears, he’s face to face to the stony face of one of the MCC admins, their status displayed by the proud red [Admin] by their nametags and the fact that they’re floating several inches off the fucking floor. He backs away, strangely winded - probably from the panic or adrenaline or yelling or, more accurately, all three, as Quackity is pulled back effortlessly by an admin, easily caging his flailing limbs with a snap of code as he is frozen into place - and Michael whoops.

“LET’S GO!”

(The arrow hits Michael in the shoulder, and he disappears in a flash of red - only instead of going to his usual place above the Dodgebolt arena, standing with the other competitors, he finds himself teleported in front of a dizzying array of screens and buttons, too many to have any idea where they connect and how they work. Michael turns to meet the faces of the MCC Admins, each one looking at him with odd, concerned expressions and furrowed brows.

“You shot your teammate,” one says - Noxite - and Michael nods to concede the point, not quite finding the words to speak. “Why?”

��If you had such a big issue with the teams, you could’ve just talked to Scott,” another one pipes up from the back, “I’m sure we could’ve worked something out.”

“I know, I know,” Michael runs his hand through his hair, both relieved at the plan working better than he could’ve ever fucking imagined and suddenly lost for words in front of the admins, each one looking at him with their full attention. Every nerve in his body rails against the scrutiny, reminds him to pretend that nothing is wrong - but it’s too late to pretend, now. It’s been too late for a long, long time.

He remembers Dream, looking away all competition, voice dead and lacking all of its former vitality - remembers Puffy, hair a little greyer from stress, grief painting her face whenever she thought anyone wasn’t looking - remembers Bad, hands still shaking despite his attempts to hide it - the prison, looming on the horizon, unbeatable, impenetrable - himself, helpless, for all this time, to do anything but watch and wait. Until now. He takes a deep breath, steels himself-

“Something’s wrong with Dream.”)

“Thank you for your information, Michael,” Noxite smiles at him, and relief throws itself through his system so fast that it makes him dizzy- “We’ll handle this from here. Good job.”

“Holy shit- when did you get time to contact the fucking admins, Michael?”

Michael ignores the clamor around him as the lobby bursts into activity and people talking over each other, each one probably trying to figure out what the hell just happened, ignores Sapnap muttering, awed, from beside him, to move towards Dream, still sprawled out over the floor. There’s an admin by him, standing by to seemingly keep the crowd away but not engaging with Dream directly, and Michael ducks by them to kneel down by Dream and meet his gaze.

“Hey,” Michael smiles, still shaking from the leftover adrenaline as he presses his hands to the ground to try and hide it, “We’ve got you. It’s over- Quackity’s gone. You’re safe now.”

“Michael?” Dream’s voice is so damn small when his head twists to look over, hair having fallen largely fallen out of his ponytail to land in wisps all around his face. “You- how-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael shushes him, chest twisting painfully. “It’s alright.”

“...I don’t feel so good.”

Dream coughs harshly, and Michael quickly maneuvers him to a sitting position as his shoulders shake with another one, hand flying to his mouth as he is wracked with loud, wet-sounding coughs. Concern wells up in his throat, watching as Dream shakes with more coughing, nearly choking as he curls into himself, muscles tense. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls his hand back, and Michael gasps at the sight.

“Dream-”

There’s blood, and a lot of it - mixed with the saliva in his palm, shiny and stringy over the planes of his hand, dribbling past his lips and down his chin. His teeth are similarly stained red when his mouth opens slightly, stance wobbling before he collapses altogether against Michael’s body - Michael can barely hear himself shouting for a medic as Dream heaves a rattling, wet sounding breath into his shoulder.

“Th’ts not g’d,” he mumbles, quiet, before going completely limp.

---

When you first get strong enough to go to the Nether and collect blaze rods and brew potions for the first time, the first thing that gets beaten into your head forwards, backwards, left, right, and every way in between is that health and regen aren’t a replacement for actual recovery. Instant health pots are famous for their tendency to heal everything affected to the same degree - which is bad when you have a particularly deep injury, as it’ll often finish healing it near the surface while the injury persists underneath. Regen pots tend to be better at that front, but even they cannot completely fix a serious injury - the two can only act as a temporary, emergency fix for severe wounds, often being an invaluable resource to stop the worst of the bleeding and hold everything together for long enough to bring someone to proper medical attention.

Unfortunately, when someone tries to use health pots and regens to completely bypass the time and rest needed for the body to properly heal itself and recover, what usually ends up happening is internal injuries - not completely healed by the potions alone - continue to be jostled and irritated, which can lead to further, worse, problems with internal bleeding and bones shifting out of place if they’ve been broken, which can then pierce through muscle and organ tissue - to be honest, Michael was never the best with all the medical stuff, and he’s half-sure that the horror stories he’s heard were exaggerated to beat it into his head never to be an idiot that thinks that potions can solve everything, but either way, he’s never tested his luck with the things.

Unfortunately, Dream doesn’t seem to have done the same, as the entire day’s worth of intense activity, between practices and MCC itself, were more than enough to fuck over the healing effects of whatever health potions he apparently downed before coming to the Championships. From what Michael has heard, it got a little harried after he was first brought into the hospital, but he’s apparently stabilized since - recovery will be slow, both physically and mentally, but at least he’s out of that damn prison to actually start on that path.

“Simply put, your teammate is a bit of an idiot,” Scott tells him when he finally catches him in the waiting room, hair fluffed up at the sides from where he’s evidently messed it up in Admin-related stress. “But he should be alright now, with proper medical attention and lots of rest - make sure to tell him to actually rest, will ya? No more parkouring for him - he can wait until after he’s out of the hospital to show us all how it’s done.”

Michael laughs, relief settling into his chest, “Thanks, Scott.” He directs a playfully accusing look towards the other, a grin tugging at his lips, “but you know, he’s only my teammate because you made it that way. Kinda sounds like your own fault there..”

“Oh, quiet, you.” Scott laughs- he looks stressed, and Michael feels a twinge of sympathy. The administrative side of things after his whole stunt at Dodgebolt, and then especially with what happened in the main lobby, must be an absolute nightmare. “Anyway, I need to go back - Admin meeting,” he shakes his head, already looking at his comm. “You should go see Dream, by the way. I think he’s awake.”

“Thanks for everything, Scott.”

Scott smiles at him, soft, sincere. “Go see your friend.”

He disappears in a flash of white light, teleporting away, and Michael looks at the empty space where he stood for a few seconds before standing up out of his chair to move towards the door. He hesitates at it for a second, hand on the doorknob but not yet turning it to the side - it’s suddenly awkward, without the pressure of the competition at his back and the relentless questions of what he should do. He doesn’t even know if Dream knows what happened, or if he’ll be happy with him - for all he knows, Dream was the one who started the whole ‘don’t tell the Championships what happens in the server’ deal. His teeth catch on his lip as he stands, lost in thought, at the door.

Well. Here goes nothing.

He eases the door open, getting a glimpse inside the room - it’s white, clean-looking, the smell of disinfectant heavy in the air. There’s a bed in the middle of the room, a chair on the side with his Championships clothing and what appears to be some sort of padded body armor laid over the cushions. Dream, as expected, is lying down in the bed, unmoving; for a second, Michael thinks he’s sleeping, before he suddenly twists his head over to look at him.

“Michael?”

“Hey,” Michael smiles, moving into the room and closing the door behind him. For the first time today, Dream’s face isn’t masked, a glimpse of it visible behind him on the dresser by the bed. He blinks up at him owlishly, eyes wide and green, looking even bigger combined with the hollow planes of his cheeks, overlaid by pale, slightly raised scars. “How are you feeling, man?”

“Um-” Dream tries to pull himself up, visibly struggling, and Michael rolls his eyes as he hurries over to help raise the back of the cot because you’re supposed to be resting, Dream, just let the fancy bed do its job, and settles back with an odd look on his face as Michael pulls over a chair. “Good? I think? I mean-” he flails his hands a bit, “this is weird. And I kind of hate this gown- but um. Yeah.”

“That’s fair,” Michael laughs, and Dream huffs a small laugh out of his own, settling back into his pillow. He looks strangely small, with all the layers stripped away, frail and skinny against the sheets. His skin isn’t that same paper-white shade it had been when he collapsed in the middle of the fucking lobby, but it’s still pale enough to be vaguely worrying, especially combined with the IV and other wires hooked up to him.

“Apparently, I’m dehydrated,” Dream drawls when he catches Michael staring at the IV, making a small, frustrated sound through his teeth as Michael turns to look at him, “figures, I guess, but still sucks. I hate needles.”

“Ouch,” Michael winces in sympathy, “yeah, those don’t look that fun.” Dream smiles up at him, before his expression shutters, dulls, and he looks away, not meeting his eyes. The sight of it makes Michael frown, quiet, remembering the way he’d drawn back from them all over and over again throughout the day - that fear and trauma won’t go away in a day, but it hurts all that much more to see his face as panic flashes across it and he pulls back, gaze carefully detached.

“Dream?” Michael moves closer, but is careful not to make contact, “you alright?”

“Hmm?” Dream directs another small, tight smile his way, strained at the corners as his eyes flick away to the floor once again, “yeah- I’m- I’m fine.”

Michael sighs, but decides not to push it. “Have you done anything else here, yet?”

Dream shakes his head. “No- I think that someone’s going to bring food over soon, I’m not sure. Not really hungry,” he mutters, half to himself, and Michael tamps down the concern that wells up in protest, “But we’ll see, I guess.”

“That’s good,” Michael nods, and Dream looks up at him, expression startlingly unsure.

“Um- do you know?” He wrings his hands together, eyes darting across the room nervously before flicking over Michaels’ face, and Michael tries to make himself look as calm and comfortable as possible, “I mean- do you know what’s going on with- everyone?”

Ah. Michael winces internally- he probably should’ve expected this question, but in the fallout of what happened in the lobby and Dream, you know, passing out in his arms, he ended up brushing off or ignoring a lot of the chaos that resulted. He wracks his head for snippets of information that he’d seen in his communicator and from visitors to the waiting room, including people that had been there with him that had been pulled for questioning and meetings, Tommy’s expletive-filled yelling from the lobby still ringing in his head.

“Um- I think that they’ve got a team of moderators pulled up to investigate the server, figure out what’s been going on,” Michael ticks names off on his hands, mentally going through the list of people that he’s been given information on, “They have Quackity in custody, I think, for the moment- they’re still waiting for more information on what to do with him, but they’ve got a whole MCC lobby’s worth of witnesses that saw him assault you so far, if you plan on pressing charges and stuff- um- Sapnap got pulled for questioning, nothing too major right now, I think that they’re going through the other server members that were attending the Championships for the moment.”

“Are they- putting them in jail?” Dream’s voice sounds slightly tinny despite his forced calm, arms crossed in front of him, and Michael shakes his head firmly.

“No- legal stuff between servers is weird, and I think they’re holding off on anything like that for now. Quackity’s just there at the moment because of assault charges on the MCC server - stuff in the SMP is still technically outside of their jurisdiction.” Dream visibly relaxes, and Michael smiles thinly, “It’ll be rough for a few weeks as they collect evidence and figure out what to do, but for now, they’re just focusing on recovery - giving people medical attention if they need it, lining up therapists,” he laughs, quietly, “lots of therapists.”

Dream hums, looking away. The corners of his mouth fall, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes a shuddery sigh through his lips.

“I- never wanted it to get this bad,” he opens his eyes, looking down at his hands, lip slightly trembling, “I don’t- I don’t know where it all went wrong.”

“Hey,” Michael slides closer, ducking to meet Dream’s eyes with a soft smile. “You’re not alone anymore, alright? You don’t have to fix it all by yourself. Focus on yourself, on recovering.”

Dream hesitates, breath seeming caught in his throat, wide green eyes staring into Michael’s own, before ducking his head to look away with a slight nod. Michael leans back in his chair, watching as Dream turns to the side, curling in on himself slightly with a small wince, eyes fixed on the window.

“Didn’t think I was going to see the sun again,” Dream says after a while, gaze still trained behind the glass to where the sun is slowly setting, rays of sunlight streaming past the slits in the blinds and casting glowing stripes of honey-gold throughout the room and over Dream’s face. Michael feels something cold press against the back of his throat, the quiet admission making air stutter in his lungs at the image of Dream, alone, huddled in the middle of an obsidian box for months and months and months, never knowing if he’d see anything other than the same black walls for the rest of his life.

“You’re not there, anymore. You’re safe now.”

Dream doesn’t reply, continuing to look out the window silently, breathing slowly as he moves his hand through a sunbeam, watching the way it streams between his fingers and warms his skin, seeming mesmerized by its soft glow.

“Michael?” Dream looks over, and Michael feels the air punched out of his lungs at the soft, disbelieving sincerity held within his expression, the fearful edges for once pulled back far enough for the light to catch the quiet, heartfelt appreciation gathered in the slight quirk of his lips and downward slope of his eyes. He looks away a second after, a band of light cutting across his face and landing over the bridge of his nose, smile still on his face, voice almost too quiet to make out. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Michael feels his own smile widen, looking out the window himself- it really is a beautiful sunset. “What are friends for?”

#-> my writing #my writing :D #c!Quackity critical #tw trauma #tw abuse #tw torture #tw panic attack #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting #tw needles #tw hospitals #tw emotional distress #pandora's vault #prison arc #god this was so fun #hope you all enjoy !!#long post

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youbutstupid · 3 years

Text

Random facts about GeorgeNotFound for any new fans:

-this one is pretty obvious but... he’s colourblind!

-his favourite colour is blue despite the fact that some shades of blue appear white to him

-he is a November Scorpio born November 1st 1996

-he does not know what astrology even means though

-he is left handed

-one of his favourite snacks is chocolate covered raisins

-he has a dog and a cat, the names of both of them are unknown

- he has a sister

-he has a degree in computer science and knows how to code in many different languages but remains mainly on Java

-he was asked to join a choir but refused

-him and Ponk used to be ex hypebeasts together as a way of making money

-he used to have a job in an office doing secretary work such as photocopying and laminating

-unless he’s playing against Dream or Sapnap, he doesn’t really tend to get competitive. Dream said he tends to focus more on being entertaining as opposed to being the winner

- his biggest skill in minecraft is archery. This is especially prominent in MCC or when they’re defeating the ender dragon in challenges as they’ll mostly hand the bow over to George

- he used to be global elite at csgo

-the members of the smp that he has met in real life are Wilbur and Ponk

- he can understand some Spanish however he can’t speak it

- he can’t specialise in any particular instrument but can play a bit of recorder, guitar and drums

- he hated English at school

-he took A level Physics, Maths, Chemistry and IT

- his degree in computer sciences is a first (the highest degree you can get)

-dream says George is the one he goes to when he wants the most fun or honesty

- George is quite emotionally stunted and struggles to convey how he’s feeling. This causes him to laugh at arguments, not realise when people are genuinely mad at him and struggle to say things such as ‘I love you’. This causes dream and Sapnap to be extra flirty and loving to him as a way to break him out of this

- he wants to move to America with dream and Sapnap

- he had a girlfriend sometime between 2016 and now

- he tries to sync his sleep schedule with dream

- he loves Harry Potter and has read every book

- he prefers his hair short but keeps it long for the fans

- his parents don’t stay up to date with his YouTube life

-Sapnap used to work at a hotel and when he’s being annoying, George threatens to send him back to it

- George is apparently much more loving off stream

- George swears a lot when he’s not streaming/filming and has become the cause of dream swearing

- On Munchy MC (BBH’s server where he met Dream) he was known as the kid who screams a lot

-he was one of the fastest growing creators of 2020

- his favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla

-despite him making new friends in the smp, he always goes back to Dream and Sapnap

- he thinks he has a more brotherly relationship with Sapnap

- when he gets a dono or gifted subs, he will often say ‘thank you thank you thank you’ or try and urge his fans not to donate because he feels bad at them spending their money on him

- he makes Dream’s thumbnails for him

- he likes to edit his own videos because he’s a perfectionist but will often take a while to do so as he struggles to stay motivated

-he made Dream’s old channel trailer for him

- he takes a lot of pride in his merch and wouldn’t let the 6 mil merch be released as he didn’t approve of the quality

- he bought Ponk’s iconic mask that you see on his minecraft skin for him

- he doesn’t leave the house that often

- thatveganteacher hates him

- he doesn’t understand where the nickname gogy came from but will always respond to it

- the first thing Quackity ever said to him was ‘your name is Jorge in Spanish’

- education wise: he is a genius. Common sense wise is a different story, he is often clueless most of the time

- he is very easily distracted and it annoys all of his friends, especially Quackity and Dream

- he is good at getting what he wants

- his pets often follow him around the house

- he can’t concentrate on more than one thing at once or he gets overwhelmed

- when he is excited or stressed, his hands will often go to his face as a first reaction

- George is very picky about who he gives his number to. Dream has always had his number. Sapnap got his number after 5 years and George let Sapnap give BBH his number after 6/7 years of friendship. Quackity and Karl managed to speedrun this though and get his number within months

-Punz and BBH often take on the older brother figure for George and the rest of the Dream Team, despite punz being younger than George by a few months

-George’s hair will curl if wet

- due to his colour blindness, he will never be able to see the true colour of his own eyes or Dream’s as brown and green are both messed up to him

#I hope you enjoyed these very random facts #dream smp #dream team #georgenotfound #dream #dreamwastaken #mcyt

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highnicknick · 3 years

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Random Hermitcraft Headcanons

Every single smp knows about hermitcraft

X can shapeshift into any living thing except people under 4'6 and above 7'6

For the first few seasons, new hermits just randomly appeared and were like "oh okay guess im here now"

Mumbo joined hermitcraft at 14 years

Tfc is 60k years old

Jevin is made of 2 layers, an inner "core" of oobleck and an outer layer of slime

Scar is actually 6'4

Grian can lift any other hermit with 1 hand

The only hermits to cut their hair are Grian, Joe, and Bdubs cause they don't know how and theyre scared of Bdubs

Bdubs is half feral cat

Iskall is a third human, third guardian, third slime

Ren has written fanfiction of some of the other hermits, they haven't said anything yet

Mumbo cosplays the other hermits and has a cosplay tiktok account with over 100k, over half of the hermits follow it, no one knows its mumbo

No hermit is fully human

Cub acts like a teen despite being in his 40s

Mumbo was emo before hermitcraft and have the emo clothes and accessories to Cub

Mumbos hair is naturally brown, and he dyes it with ink sacks. For the first month of season 8, his hair was brown

Iskall is a tetris god

Gem can do a triple backflip

Scars big hat is 6 feet tall, making him 11'2 in his wheelchair

Pearl knows Japanese, Arabic, French, and Spanish

Pearl is half raven

From mcc, theyve adopted everyone they teamed with and they live with the person they teamed with most (Hbomb with Ren, Joel with Cub and Grian, TapL with Pearl, ect.)

Jevin jiggles in front of people to cheer them up

People use Jevin as a stress ball

Scar is a fourth cat

Grian knows exactly how to scare every other hermit

Hermits give therapy to the DSMP

Grian grew wings as soon as he joined hermitcraft. It was painful

Etho does the among us sound effects perfectly

Etho and Tango have a weekly anime group meeting with InTheLittleWood and Philza

Keralis has dry skin

Jevin goes into a bucket when stressed

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft headcanons #idk man #headcanon

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alittlebirb · 2 years

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Some marvels and mischief from the MCC 22 Lime Llamas!

-Scott relating his day about how he went to the movies with friends, ordered Shake Shack and brought friends which he now has hanging around the house, and heard that Twitter was on fire which he didn't see because he doesn't use Twitter much anymore!

"It was a busy hectic day on the one day I can't be having a busy hectic day."

-"You looking forward to MeltDown? I'm having a meltdown." -Scott

-Scott accounting for all of the missing players like they're sheep he has to corral into place

-"Happy Birthday, you're old now." -Scott to Quig

-Jimmy asking who did the skins and Scott immediately roasting him about the fact that it is literally in the Discord

"But you're right, Jimmy, I don't have enough on my plate today." -Scott

-New MCC Lore: every single NoxCrew member is actually Scott in disguise! Turns out he coded and designed every single game himself!

-Jimmy's chat sending F's and well wishes the moment they hear Scott speak

"You sound slightly poorly." -Jimmy

-Quig mentioning he's the only American and Scott immediately leaping on him and saying well guess what? Pearl's the only Aussie!

"You're not special Quig! There are other minorities here! The only thing you have is that it's your birthday today!" -Scott

-Jimmy asking if they can please have party hats too because they're on Quig's team

-Wilbur looking at their screenie poses and roasting them in the chat

-"I will warn you now, I have not streamed in weeks now, so I think I have a lot of pent up sass that is inevitably going to come out tonight. I didn't realize until I joined the call and read Quig to filth already, and it's his birthday." -Scott

"You did also get Jimmy to be fair." -Quig

"Yeah but Jimmy's easy to get. Have you seen him?" -Scott

"Wait what?" -Jimmy

-Jimmy mentioning the joke "A Scotman, an Aussie, an American, and a Brit walk into a bar", and Quig pointing out that he's part Scottish!

"But then the joke would have to be "An American, an Aussie, an Englishman, and gay man walk into a bar", and that just feels homophobic." -Scott

-Everyone recommending Quig get "a nice steak" for his birthday dinner, causing him to feel he kind of has to now...

-"Where is Joel? I need to slap him." -Jimmy

-"There's Scar! Look at his lil shirt and abs! Why does Scar always have abs???" -Jimmy

-OwengeJuice coming into Scott's room to refill his water bottle and Scott calling him "a good egg"

-Scott listing how every single one of their team is workin at a disadvantage this MCC and Quig pointing out that this does not sound like the God Team he was promised

"See the problem is that Twitter already hates me, so if we do win I will be called several slurs." -Scott, who is taking no prisoners today

-"Scott actually hates everyone!" -Quig

"You're right, it's a quality if I hate everybody!" -Scott

-Scott trying to kill Pearl and Jimmy's PG streams

"If I win I get one victory swear, and Quig gets one birthday swear." -Scott

-Red being the first team to die in MD?? Proof Scott is colorblind-phobic not clickbait????

-Quig's grandpa calling him during MD and him having to ignore it

"Give it a sec, Gramps!" -Jimmy

-Lime winning the last round of MD with no one dying!

-"It's lime for us! If we break it we win!" -Scott about the elevator

-"25 players to break it, we actually need 26 because Joel's here! He's too small!" -Jimmy

-Pearl's name being shortened to Pearlescentmoo, transforming her into her alt account

-Jimmy having to go to the bathroom already

"Didn't you go before the event started?" -Pearl

"I did! My bladder is...something else." -Jimmy

-Yellow coming up in PKT and Scott asking Pearl if she wants to "hunt the other females".

-Jimmy's stream just dying in the middle of PKT

-Pearl recognizing her fellow hermits in Aqua

"That's the rule. Hermit on hermit crime is not allowed." -Scott

-Jimmy getting tagged by Pete and saying "he had long arms there! HUGE arms!"

-Pearl going on a little quest with Scott to find his cat in the hub

-Scott suggesting they talk about their teammates behind their back and Pearl immediately taking that as a chance to insult both of them

-Pearl somehow killing someone 10 seconds into RSR and apologizing

"Pearl's actually a master murderer in this game." -Scott

-Quig accidentally hitting stuff on his desk while playing

-Jimmy and Scott breaking out into impromptu High School Musical karaoke while flying

-Pearl getting another kill and then immediately dropping into the void right afterward

-Everyone getting confused at Dream being blue, and Jimmy calling him a "blue block."

"Dream blue arc?" -Scott

"I don't like it, I don't like change!" -Jimmy

-Everyone encouraging Pearl to wiggle the cable or get her cats to play with it in HITW

-"Achievement earned: not colorblind!" -Scott

-Pearl getting offended that Quig expects the Aussie to swear and her and Scott entering into a discussion about how the c-word is Joel's favorite but they both hate it

"You're talking about cool, right?" -Jimmy

"We're talking about Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent." -Scott

-"You know, I'm taking off the sunglasses, this is serious now." -Quig

"Don't look at him, I hate Quig's face without sunglasses." -Scott (in a video game)

-"I don't like walls. Normally I'm a fan of the hole part, but this time it failed me." -Scott

-Quig calling back his grandpa during the break

-Pearl singing a little song while everyone else is muted during break

-Scott being shocked at Pearl having never had a good BM round and calling himself "a BuildMart connoisseur".

-Scott calling his cat "a chonk of fluff".

-Pearl having to rush into the middle of the hub as the timer counted down in order to get a coconut smoothie from Scott, and then the both of them being jump scared by Quig's non-sunglasses face

-Quig psychologically analyzing the tendency to go left in Minecraft and concluding it's because of players' left brains

-Quig saying of course Pearl isn't getting confused in reverse AR, Australians are already playing it upside down!

-"I beat Grian, it's fine." -Jimmy

-Everyone agreeing that the hub needs music in between rounds

-"You can't blame everything on being Australian!" -Quig to Pearl during BB

"I didn't make you the girlboss to my gatekeep for you to talk down about yourself. If only Cleo was here, she could gaslight you into a positive attitude. I'm gatekeeping that negative talk." -Scott

"My chat is full of Pearl believers." -Quig

-Pearl seeing Oli's message that he's going to ruin Quig's birthday and going :(

"Quig, don't let Oli ruin your birthday!"

-Quig responding with in chat

-Quig saying they're still "dodgeboltable" and everyone else repeating it until it's just a string of unintelligible sounds

-Quig calling Pearl 'Gem' and Scott immediately roasting him

"Wooow, you just see girl gamer and put them together, wow, Quig." -Scott

-Scott telling Jimmy to say SAND DADDY with his whole chest in SOT

-Everyone shouting out Hbomb before they start, and Jimmy mentioning how Grian informed him that Hbomb's vod review of his perspective last MCC was absolutely "excruciating"

-Quig telling Scott "I'll do you proud Sand Daddy!" and Scott responding "I'm proud of you son."

-Quig asking chat if he's dumb while getting lost in the tunnel and Scott saying "well...let's not answer that."

-Scott fighting with Tubbo so much in the dms that they both get kicked for spam

-One of Pearl's mods sending out a message in the chat apologizing for Scott's language

"I'll go into Disney mode. Crud! Crikey! Shiitake mushrooms! If it works for Spy Kids it works for you!" -Scott

-"See, this is why we let chickens decide the games! We don't get beaten by democracy!" -Scott

"Yeah, I hate democracy!" -Quig

-RIP the community builds

-Scott bearing witness to the tragedy of Scar getting thrown off in TGTTOS

-Quig being the last on Lime to hit an NPC and Scott telling him "don't blame me for your subpar parkour before the end!"

"It was the swimming! I'm a bad swimmer, man." -Quig

-Scott has decreed that Blue is being benched for the next MCC /j

"There's toxic and then there's this." -Scott

-"Imagine if he doesn't win this, Oli. We'll never hear the end of it. He's been hounding Scott for ages for a team to get him the win." -Jimmy

-All of Scott's friends coming into his room to watch Dodgebolt, carrying Christmas glasses

-"He's not gonna break the curse if he's shooting shots like that!" -Jimmy about Sparklez

-"Dream's just playing with his food." -Quig

-Scott yelling "WE SAW IT LIVE" about the Captain win, Pearl agreeing it was "bout time", and Quig being satisfied with the fact that Sparklez won on his birthday

-Lime Llamas ended MCC 22 in 3rd place!

#mcc #mcc 22 #scott smajor #pearlescentmoon #solidarity gaming #quig #really really good team and awesome event #the team chemistry was incredible #and I'm soo proud for how well they did for having like negative practice #what a good time ^^#birb's mcc recaps

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arts-and-drafts · 3 years

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Reconnaissance (Hermit Tommy AU)

(hooo boy here comes the start of a very long project, in which wrongs try to be righted in more worlds than one. This is a slight continuation of the fic Vulnerable, so maybe check that out of you're confused. Enjoy!)

TW: Death

Legend has it that the End connects all worlds.

There is countless spawns, countless new worlds created every second, but there is only one End. The End connects all threads of the wide, wide universe, and if you go far enough, you can see the start of other civilizations on pale islands farther out than the fabled badlands. If you go far enough, if you traverse the End more than any have before, you can start to see beginnings.

Xisuma knows this is all talk. But all legends start in truth. The End is where the admin begins his search.

He's surprised to find Tommy's old world very quickly.

There are few worlds that are completely closed off from the End, and of those few only one is still actively inhabited.

The Dream SMP. The name can't be a coincidence.

Xisuma turns to the world's history now, the hardest part of locating the world now over. It's then that Xisuma learns the best news; the world is regularly open to MCC, and that means a way in.

He tells only Tango of his plan, prepares him for the worst. If Xisuma leaves and doesn't return, Hermitcraft won't have an admin, and the world will die. It would be irresponsible to leave with that much responsibility on his shoulders, but Xisuma would not ask any of his hermits to go in his place, and he reminds Tango firmly of this when the mod protests his decision.

Xisuma spends the next month teaching Tango how to take up the mantle of admin while Xisuma is gone, and before the night of MCC he relinquishes the power in its entirety to his closest confidant. The transfer of administrator leaves both Xisuma and Tango out of commission for quite a while, Xisuma's body struggling through the sudden withdrawal of magic and Tango's attempting to adjust to the influx of power that came too quickly for him to process.

Xisuma departs while Tango rests, leaving the unsure promise of return in his wake in a book and quill before he steps through the portal to MCC.

Xisuma knows where to go. The portal to the Dream SMP has been reignited since the scare last time, and the former admin easily slips through the gateway during the hubbub of the event.

xisumavoid joined the game

<FoolishG> o/

<Ranboo> who

<ItsFundy> wait what

<xisumavoid> Hello. Do any of you know a Dream?

<awesamdude> Who are you?

Xisuma stared at his communicator screen. He chose to not disclose his reasoning for his arrival, on edge because of Tommy's state he was in when he found Hermitcraft. These people could be extremely dangerous.

<xisumavoid> I'm Xisuma, I'm not going to stay long. I just need to speak with Dream. This is his world, correct?

Silence.

Xisuma nervously tucked his communicator away. This world had set him on edge enough; his ability of perception was not as heightened as it used to be since his admin abilities were passed over, but he could still feel that the magic of this world was strained and warped.

The magic of Hermitcraft that he was used to felt light, warm, like a summer breeze on a perfect day, with small snaps of explosive energy that came from volatile and powerful players all in one space. It was generally pleasant.

This world felt...dull. Dull and stretched out too far, as if there wasn't enough magic to go around. What little there was felt tainted somehow, wrong in a way that Xisuma could not describe.

It was suffocating. Xisuma wanted to be out of there as quickly as he could.

The former admin looked around, cringing slightly at the awful mess of cobblestone and dirt and wood planks that made up a wall all around spawn. Besides the crude structure, spawn was abandoned and uninhabited.

Odd.

Xisuma chose not to dwell on it too much, and turned to a crack in the wall where he could leave the box.

He ventured out to a forest of spruce, nothing to be seen for 10 chunks in every direction. All that was in Xisuma's render distance was untouched trees.

The hermit tried his communicator again.

<xisumavoid> Where is everyone? There are no structures close to spawn. Can someone offer coordinates?

"Why are you here." Came a voice in response. Xisuma jumped out of his skin, whipping around so fast he nearly fell off the wall.

A creeper hybrid stood a few blocks from him, clad in ornate golden armor that Xisuma could tell was imbued with enchanted netherite. The look on his face was as cold and intimidating as his netherite sword clutched firmly in one of his paws.

"Uh--hello! I'm here to see Dream." Xisuma replied warily. "What's your name?"

"Sam." The hybrid offered bluntly. "And I can't let you see him."

A flicker of confusion disrupted the growing unease in Xisuma's mind. "I'm unarmed, I promise-"

"It's not for him." Sam cut him off, and Xisuma swallowed his words.

"...I don't understand." Xisuma said, getting the feeling that his wariness of the new server was not nearly enough as it should be. It was then that the hermit noticed Sam deflate, only barely, but enough for Xisuma to see that the hybrid was crushed with guilt.

"...He killed the last person that tried to talk to him." Sam explained lowly. Xisuma blinked. "For your safety and the server's, I can't let you see him. I don't know you, and I don't know if you're here to break him out."

"I'm not worried about dying, I--why is it a big deal?" Xisuma asked carefully. Sam's head snapped up to stare at him with hollow eyes, sending a shiver down the hermit's spine despite how close he was with Doc.

"...It was his last life." Sam said, slowly and deliberately, speaking as if it was terrible taboo to utter the words.

"You can't respawn here?" Xisuma asked, his unease pitching. There was respawn magic here, he could feel it, this wasn't a hardcore world.

"We can." Sam explained curtly. "But if we die and it's important, it's...that's it. We only get three lives."

Sam then looked down, and Xisuma noticed how tired the hybrid suddenly seemed. His paw clenched the hilt of his sword so tight that it shook in his grip.

"Tubbo only had one left." Sam muttered thickly, his voice full of regret and bitterness. Xisuma's stomach dropped.

"...Tubbo is dead?" The hermit realized, slowly. Sam looked up, his eyes now very suspicious as he looked Xisuma over again.

"Who are you? Why are you talking like you know Tubbo and Dream?" Sam interrogated, lifting his blade. Xisuma didn't even blink, his mind fuzzy with the static of shock and disbelief. Tubbo...was dead.

"I...came here for Tommy." Xisuma answered distantly. "He...I wanted to bring Tubbo back to him."

The color drained from Sam's face, but in Xisuma's state he really didn't have the energy to process the look of shock.

"Tommy's alive?"

"Tango, look into my eyes, only my eyes."

"No, nope." Tango jerked away from Keralis's hypnotizing stare. "Nice try."

"Tango," Keralis said again, his voice a disappointed purr. He really was laying it on thick. "I just want to know where Shishwammy is."

"He's doing important admin stuff, I told you!" Tango said, his bark having no real bite. Xisuma instructed him exactly; no one was to know where he went. X didn't want any of his hermits to follow him into that world of destruction.

Tango kept it locked, just as he promised, but Keralis was making it so difficult.

"Look, Keralis, I'm really tired. Can I please go back to resting." Tango tried. Keralis's huge eyes stared through him for a couple seconds, but then the hermit visibly backed off. Tango breathed a sigh of relief.

"...Get well soon, sweetface." Keralis hummed reluctantly, turning and shooting out the opening to Toon Towers. Tango watched his silhouette get smaller and smaller on the horizon before turning back to his bed.

What he told Keralis wasn't a lie. His bones felt like they'd been individually hit by a ravager from all the magic that now flowed through him. The humming of every life force in Hermitcraft had been giving him a nonstop headache.

He'd definitely gained more respect for Xisuma's role in their world after experiencing what that truly meant, but he always worryingly came back to the reason the power was given to him in the first place.

It'd been radio silence from Xisuma's end since he left for the SMP, but Tango could still feel his life force pulling at his mind, distantly. It was a very odd sensation, but knowing his friend was still alive and connected to Hermitcraft gave him comfort.

Still. Tango was out of his element, and he hoped Xisuma would return as soon as possible.

Splashing sounds of water gradually became louder and louder to Tango, making him throw an arm over his face in annoyance. He just wanted to sleep, void's sake.

"Tango, my friend! How are you, big man!" A punch to the arm startled Tango into nearly falling out of bed, Tommy's signature loud 'pah-HAH' following his scrambling attempt to get upright.

"Oh, shut up!" Tango said, a traitorous smile growing on his face while Tommy giggled.

"What do you want, Tommy." Tango sighed exaggeratedly. Tommy shuffled in place, a poorly hidden look of mischief in his eyes.

"...You have any TNT?" Tommy reached, and Tango pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course. "What for."

"I wanna scare Zedaph when he goes to bed with an explosion noise!" Tommy grinned, all coyness instantly abandoned. Tango locked eyes with the excited kid.

"Tommy, get your shulker boxes." Tango ordered, and Tommy gave a cheer, bolting for the ender chest in the corner. "All right! Gonna do fucked up shit, we're wrongens!"

"Hey, no swearing in front of the kids." Tango chastised goodnaturedly, prepared to say "you" when Tommy asked what children were around.

The question never came. Tango turned away from digging through his chests of gunpowder to check if Tommy had heard him, all humor fading away when he noticed the kid frozen in place looking down at the contents of his ender chest.

"Tom?" Tango asked, approaching with enough speed to not startle the boy. He peered over Tommy's head when there was no response, and found what looked to be a lodestone compass gripped in Tommy's scarred hand.

"...Tommy?" Tango tried again, hesitantly laying a hand on the kid's shoulder. "What's up?"

"It's." Tommy choked, and Tango tensed in alarm when he noticed tears threatening the boy's eyes. "It's not moving-"

"What?" Tango asked, and a stake was driven right through his chest when Tommy looked up with the most crushing expression of despair Tango has ever seen in his life.

"Tubbo's--" Tommy's face screwed up, the tears finally falling. He turned back to the still compass, caving in on himself to press it to his chest. A pitiful, grueling wail grew in the boy's throat, and Tango's eyes widened as he put the pieces together all at once.

That was a soul compass, and it was still. Whoever was on the other end was still as well.

Tommy's best friend was dead.

#to be continued :)c #reconnaissance #hermit tommy au #hermitcraft fic #dream smp fic #meraki post

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riacte · 3 years

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Dogwarts / 3rd Life Cheat Sheet for MCC 15 Purple Pandas

Ren and Martyn were buddies in Season 1 of the 3rd Life SMP and they are an alliance known as the Renchanting duo/ Kingdom of Dogwarts. Now they’re finally teamed up, and the 3rd Life SMP members have a habit of referring to 3rd Life in MCC. The Ren-Martyn fandom also talks about Dogwarts a lot. If you have no idea what is a Dogwarts and why people love them, no fear! This post will try to explain it in simple terms.

3rd Life SMP is a SMP started by Grian. Season 1 has 14 members (roughly half are hermits, other half are friends of the hermits. You can find the full list in the description of Ren’s 3rd Life videos.) Everyone on the server has three lives— the first life symbolised by green names, second by yellow names, third by red names. If you lose all three lives, you permadie. Green names and yellow names are not allowed to be hostile unless they were attacked first, but the goal of red names is to kill everyone on the server. The three lives are also symbolised by three hearts, like this:

(Fun fact: Because of the green-yellow-red colours, the subtwt for 3rd Life is called traffictwt after traffic lights. The 3rd Life tumblr fandom is occasionally referred to as trafficblr.)

3rd Lifers record every week for three hours at the same time with proximity chat. The server has a small border to encourage interaction. They are eight sessions in total, and they’re all cut into YouTube episodes (no streams!), so it’s fairly bingeable.

So what’s the deal with Martyn and Ren?

Ren decided to set up an enchanting shop during the first session. Martyn was wandering around and having fun scaring people with creeper noises until he came to Ren’s enchanting shop. Martyn then used Ren’s enchanting service without paying (essentially a robbery), but Ren let Martyn go on the condition Martyn would act as a walking free advertisement. Martyn agreed, and they became business partners. Martyn actually coined the name Renchanting and its motto “Don’t be a Dog, be a God”. Ren named Martyn as his “marketing manager” (which sounds a little like Martynmanager).

True to his word, Martyn went around and spread the good news of Renchanting to everyone. Martyn brought business to Renchanting, and when Ren was being threatened by customers (who harassed Ren into lower his prices/ giving out enchantments for free), Martyn acted defensive of Ren and even said Ren was being “bullied”. Ren was being taken advantage of because he was too nice. (Martyn did do some stuff not related to Ren, but since this is a Dogwarts cheat sheet I won’t be mentioning that.)

Then came GoodTimesWithScar. The main “villain” to Renchanting, if you will.

Basically, Scar was playing the role of a cartoon villain. He scammed people out of their armour and possessions, and eventually found his way to Renchanting. At that point, Martyn and Ren were loyal to each other. Scar asked for Ren’s enchanting table. In return, when Scar turned red, he would not kill Ren and Martyn. Ren appeared to be torn, but due to Martyn depending on him and the business, he refused Scar’s offer (“you can’t take the enchanting out of Renchanting!”). Scar also acted condescending to Martyn (Martyn was seen as Ren’s “minion”). So Ren and Martyn were officially on Scar’s kill list, but Ren did not regret it.

At some point, Ren got tired of people walking into his store and stepping all over him, so he built high walls around the Renchanting building. Everyone (including Renchanting themselves) broke through the walls, and this was a running gag. Ren declared himself king by wearing the crown he got from MCC9 Blue Bats.

Note: Ren was kind, and it was the cruel world that forced Ren to be defensive. Other POVs paint them as the villain but Dogwarts enthusiasts will say that is not the case AT ALL.

Time passed. Scar turned red. He and his buddy Grian set up traps at Renchanting, and one blew up Ren and a bunch of other people. Ren, now a yellow name, was furious, but could not get his revenge because yellow names were not allowed to hurt other players. So naturally, Ren decided to become a red.

Ren renamed an axe to “RED WINTER IS COMING” and gave it to Martyn to chop his head off. (There’s some dramatic roleplay here, highly recommend a watch.) Martyn painfully did, and the message “Red Winter is Coming” was shown in the chat, which told everyone that Ren meant business. To test Martyn’s loyalty, Ren told Martyn he could kill him if he wanted to. Ren, freshly respawned and without armour, punched Martyn. Martyn, as a green name, could attack Ren due to Ren attacking first. However, Martyn did not kill Ren, and dramatically declared Ren was the one who showed him life, and thus he would return the favour.

So Ren was known as the Red King (with grey skin, bloodied MCC crown, and a Scottish/pirate accent). Martyn became known as the King’s Hand, and called Ren “my lord” “my liege”. Later, Martyn acquired an outfit with a cloak and a red hand on the back of the cloak, which is now used to symbolise Martyn.

They established the Kingdom of Dogwarts (after Hogwarts and the enchanting/magic gimmick) to find more allies (notable ones include Ethoslab and Skizzleman). Allies could stick a Red Banner in their base to show loyalty, members were called Red Knights / Red Army.

A Red Banner (the design is supposed to be blood dripping down):

Without spoiling too much, Ren and Martyn remained loyal to each other till the very end. They were very dramatic (even jokingly called homoerotic by some lmao) and had many hardcore quotes, and are highly beloved. They are the most dramatic and RP intensive group on the server. So people want Dogwarts, the king and his hand, together again.

A small sample of quotes that might be referenced:

I think going red next week is in my fate. It’s in my cards. There will be blood, for this. A king cannot be king without war. (Ren)

I won’t do it! You took me in when I was a lowly traveller, goin’ across the lands, searchin’ the four corners of this world. I learned that there was nothing in this world for me. Nothing but walls, corners, edges. And you know what? You showed me life. As much as I’ve taken it from you, you gave it back to me in bucket fulls. and I just- I’m with you. This is us now. This is us. (Martyn)

If we're going to survive the Red Winter, we gotta do it together, laddies. Hand in hand. Rotten hand in hand of the living. To the end! (Ren)

It’s just the world versus us. (Martyn)

(Note: Dogwarts refers to the group of people allied with Ren and Martyn, including Etho and Skizzleman. Renchanting duo refers to Ren and Martyn ONLY)

Other references:

Joel notably screamed “THE RED KING DIES TONIGHT, FELLAS!” with a crowd of wolves following him

Dogwarts killed Grian and Scar’s llama Pizza because Scar stole a Red Banner

Jimmy and Scott were flower husbands. Jimmy thought Renchanting was going to sacrifice Scott.

Everyone else in MCC (Grian, Scott, Jimmy, Joel) were enemies with Dogwarts

The 3rd Lifers reference 3rd Life a lot despite it being over. Martyn even fought for Dogwarts in MCC14 and MCCP but failed. Haha.

The fandom commonly refers to Purple15 as King (Ren), Queen (False), Ace (Illumina), and Joker/Hand (Martyn) after playing cards.

This is it, I am tired, this is probably too long but I feel I skipped a lot of details. If anyone has anything to add or correct, feel free to do so. Also, I’m pretty certain this won’t appear in the tags, so please reblog! Thank you, and Red Winter is Coming.

(I might add a reblog detailing False’s very much fanon involvement in Dogwarts, and why everyone was so hyped for Renchanting + False.)

#3rd life smp #3rdlifesmp #mcyt #mcc #purple pandas #falsesymmetry #rendog #illuminahd #inthelittlewood #ria.txt #dogwarts #renchanting #long post #pls rb im sure this isnt in the tags lol

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hurgablurg · 2 years

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localized spoiler warning for halo infinite, not tagging it because fuck this game

Jesus FUCKING CHRIST, I just did some reading and watching on Infinite’s plot (not paying for OR playing that Ubisoft-Tower trash lmao) and guess WHAT?

The “pwecious weturn to fowm fow da sewies” did what Halo 4 did and introduced an EVILER and MORE BAD AND ANCEINT enemy to fight! “The Endless”, so fucking generic. At least the Prometheans were like, part of the universe in some way.

We already HAD a pre-precursor called, wait for it... THE PRECURSORS!! Who we’ve been fighting since CE!

Is this supposed to be the new name for the Flood / Precursor Flavor-aid? What a disgustingly awful downgrade! It sounds like some Marvel bullshit.

And don’t forget whatever “Criterion” is supposed to be. We didn’t NEED space-illuminati, you fucks. I only hope the Legendary audio is a flashback and whatever secret order bullshit it is died with the Forerunners.

And The Banished are the new power in the galaxy and the Created are all gone?? A fucking MERCENARY GROUP of like, a few hundred thousand guys at MOST, who struggled to beat A SINGLE OUTDATED, STRANDED CAPITAL SHIP in Halo Wars 2 even when they had a CAS with them? You expect me to believe THOSE fucking jokers are the new main bad guys? Including Mario and Luigi who are more adept at releasing Flood than they are fighting? Fuck off.

John “respecting” Escharum as a soldier at the end is laughably out of character. John is a fucking Spartan-II, not a fucking viking. Yeah, he has emotions but those are for his allies and friends, not the random enemies he guns down. He doesn’t even particularly HATE any of them, he’s just ambivalent to them as an obstacle. He didn’t even care when he killed Regret or Mercy, and just nodded respectfully at Thel when he watched him skewer Truth. He threw Didact into a big hole with no further reaction. He has NO emotional connection to even his greatest foes! When the hell has “warrior’s honor” been a fucking thing for his character? People say Halo 5 killed his character, but this is where John died and was replaced with “Master Chief”.

And Weapon is LITERALLY a dopey, child-like replacement goldfish for Cortana who randomly KILLED herself AND her empire after feeling guilty for blowing up Doisac, as if she ever felt bad for hurting aliens before? As if she DIDN’T blockade dozens of planets with giant sentinel-stations and EMP entire civilizations in the last game? What the fuck happened to her established megalomania?

People call Halo 5 the “last jedi of halo”, so that must make this the Rise of Skywalker of Halo - clumsily and forcefully retconning EVERY established story element, downplaying or violently removing characters of colour, introducing new threats out of nowhere, and leaving a weird, unfulfilling cliffhanger ending that doesn’t address character motivations or wrap up the story in a meaningful way.

And because this is a “live service game” with a “ten year lifespan”, it seems we’ll be plum out of Halo games for a good long decade. Nothing but 20 dollar DLC and skin packs and premium currency. Guess MCC and Warzone is where we live now, eh?

At least they deigned to give Echo-216 a name, finally. Welcome aboard Fernando Esparza, here’s hoping fanfiction will set you free of your new cursed half-life. You woulda made a fine character in any other Halo game.

#halo #halo infinite #tw suicide #fernando esparza #no sp*iler tag because fuck this game #The Weapon #The endless #criterion #far cry: infinite

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harley-the-pancake · 2 years

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