#tell me your secrets creeper man. what are you hiding | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quotemenevervore · 1 year

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Gremlin child activate

Content warnings: soft, safe, g/t vore, injury and description of healing said injury, slight fear and misunderstandings, communication at the end though :)

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Wilbur hadn’t seemed too fond of Tommy’s latest prank idea. Which, honestly? Kinda irked him. He knew the two were still not on the best terms, but they were close enough that a harmless prank wouldn’t result in anything bad! The words his brother used had yet to leave his mind as he walked through the arctic, pulling his blue jacket tighter around himself as a gust of snowy wind blew into him.

“Careful you’re not playing with fire here, Tommy.”

What the hell does that mean!? Quackity didn’t have fire powers, he was a duck hybrid! Unless Wilbur had meant Sapnap, in which he thinks the older male might actually like his prank. Maybe he should have gone to him rather than Wilbur. And speaking of the fireborn, he stepped into the nether portal with a sigh, shoulders relaxing as heat returned to him once more. And guess who he saw walking along one of the pathways a little ways away?

“Sapnap!” The blackette turned towards him, grinning with sharp teeth as he was approached by the teen. “Hey, Tommy. What’re you up to now?” “Got a prank I wanna pull on Big Q, but Wilbur’s being a dick.” “Oh really? Cause I was going to go see him right now.” “Really?” “Yeah. Why don’t you tell me about this prank of yours?”

And so he did, walking alongside the other as he kept his axe at the ready in case anything tried to attack them. His plan had been to try and sneak into the avian’s office and hide an air horn under his chair, so when he sat down at his desk it would go off and scare the living daylights out of him.

Sapnap didn’t say anything at first, but he worried. The whole reason he was going to visit his fiancé was because he had called in a frenzy freaking out because his instincts were starting to overwhelm him and he had no shrinking potions left or the ingredients to make them. Slime could manually shrink himself, but the mob hybrid was out of town and wouldn’t make it back for a while. “Eh, maybe not today Tommy? Q’s kinda stressed out already.” Before the blonde could whirl onto him with a groan of being ‘no fun’, he added, “But I’ve got an idea for another prank, if you’d be up for it.” “Well don’t keep it a secret, man!”

~ ~ ~

Sapnap gave an easy grin to Sam as he entered the needle, the creepertaur rolling his eyes as he approached. “Won’t he just be happy to see you. He’s been snappy with everyone today.” “You gotta give him a break, Sam. Maybe he’s getting overworked again.” A huff was his answer as the other moved out of his way. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” “I’d never.” His grin widened as the creeper turned away, stepping into the elevator as his plan went off without a hitch.

Where was Tommy, you may ask? Shrunken, residing in the fireborn’s pocket as they made their way up the elevator and towards the avian’s office. Sapnap gave a singular knock before opening the door, smiling softly at his fiancé who’s head had shot up the second the door began opening. “H- Sapnap.” He visibly deflated in relief, and the beginnings of guilt tugged at the blackette’s heart for what he was getting ready to do. He stepped further into the office, walking up to the other to give him a hug. “I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” “I know, I know. I just.. you came a lot faster than I thought you’d be able to.” Keeping one arm around the avian, he pulled the shrunken teen from his pocket and carefully placed him into the other’s cup. There hadn’t been a lot of liquid in it, he checked when he walked over, and there was barely a splash as Tommy settled in the cup and ducked his head under the lip of the glass.

“I just happened to be in the nether when you called.” Which wasn’t a lie, he’d been doing some mining for quartz and gathering some more mushrooms when his fiancé had called. “Oh.” “Are you telling me you don’t wanna see me?” He gave a pout to the casino owner, who rolled his eyes at his fiancés antics. “You’re an idiot, Sapnap.” “I’m your idiot, dear.” Picking up his cup, the avian moved to take another drink before yanking it back like he’d burned himself with a yelp. His heart hammered as Sapnap chuckled across the desk, and a smaller but recognizable laugh emerged from his cup. “What the fuck, guys!?” “I-“ Bursting into giggles once more, he tried to pull himself together before turning to the fireborn. “I didn’t think it’d work as well as you said!” “So it was your idea!?“ he gave the other a scathing look, one that was not given any kind of seriousness. “Hey, I saved you actually. He wanted to tape an air horn to your chair.”

“Well, you know what? Fuck the both of you.” And with that, he brought the cup back to his mouth, tipping it back far enough that the teen couldn’t stop himself from tumbling into his mouth. It was the yell that the blonde gave that made Sapnap realize that he’d never told Tommy about Quackity’s instincts or abilities. He prayed that the other had been stored by his family members before because he knew for a fact that his fiancé was being spiteful and wouldn’t release him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” So this was what Wilbur meant by him playing with fire. Thank god his brother had also told him about Quackity having the same instincts and abilities as he and Phil, at least his hybrid being a duck hadn’t changed that. Though now he knew how Wilbur found out, and he really didn’t want to be stored today! “Big Q, let me out!” “Mm-mm.” “Motherfucker-“ he slammed his foot into the other’s gums, yelping when he was held to the roof of his mouth in return. “Oh, come on! I actually planned on visiting with you today!” He was released, but only to be pushed back towards his throat. “Quackity!” He didn’t get a response until he’d been swallowed already, the boy squirming madly to at least irritate the avian. “Should have thought about that before you let Sapnap shrink you. Don’t worry, though, you’ll have a roommate pretty quickly.”

Sapnap stood up quickly with a nervous smile, but he didn’t make it far before glass shattered beside him and the familiar feeling of shrinking took him over. “You fucking liar!” “I wasn’t lying.” He was scooped up, the larger taking note of the other’s temperature rapidly increasing. “Foolish brought that to me right before you and Tommy showed up. He said I looked like I needed it.” Curse the god and his caring nature. Sapnap glared hotly at the avian, who looked like he was about to say something else to try and calm him before wincing and quickly dropping him onto the desk. It wasn’t that big a fall, and he recovered quickly to look up and see why he’d been dropped only to see the avian’s face twisted in pain and his hand shaking slightly. He blinked, guilt washing the fire away when he’d realized he’d accidentally burned the other. “I- sorry, Qua-“ “It’s fine, it’s fine. I have a healing pot somewhere.” Holding the angry red hand close to his chest, he began searching through the desk drawers, forcing himself to take deep breaths to try and dampen the pain. The familiar pink potion caught his eye and he yanked it out of the drawer, uncorking it with his mouth and pouring a small amount onto the burn.

He hissed, almost biting the cork in two when it immediately sizzled and sent white hot pain shooting through his entire arm. It faded fairly quickly, leaving him with a numb palm and a cool sensation under the skin of his arm as the potion finished it’s work. Corking the bottle again, he set it in the drawer and closed it, finally looking back to his fiancé who just looked like a kicked puppy. “Sapnap, it’s fine. Look.” He held his healed hand out to the other, who recoiled from it like he was scared of him. Which, ouch, that definitely didn’t leave a familiar pang in his chest.

A pang that had started when George offhandedly mentioned Sapnap’s fear of being shrunken to him, one that continued any time the other seemed stressed out between taking care of him and Karl, especially him with his instincts. A pang that overwhelmed him when his fiancé opened up about why he’d been unable to reach out the day he met and almost died to a god. “I- god, Sapnap I’m sorry. Let me find a growing-“ “No! No, it’s fine, I’m not scared of you. I just don’t want to hurt you again. I’m sorry.” “It was an accident. You weren’t trying to hurt me.” “Still.” With a sigh, he didn’t push the issue further, knowing he’d just have to team up with Karl later and make him feel better about the incident.

“So… Do you still plan on storing me?” He didn’t sound as eager as he usually did when they both agreed, which only brought the guilt from before right back. “I, no. Not if you’re not willing to do it.” “I recall me not having a fucking choice.” “You never actually told me to stop. I would have.” “I told you to let me out.” “So does Wilbur. So does Karl, and Sapnap, and literally anyone else I store if they’re trying to mess around.” Tommy was about ready to slam his foot into the wall closest to him before he was cut off by the other continuing to speak. “I.. will admit I didn’t take into consideration if you’ve ever done this sort of thing before. Do you want to be let out?”

“Will Sapnap join me if I stay?” “Sap, Tommy wants to know if you’d join him if he stays.” “Not like I didn’t plan to anyway. I brought potions for a reason.” “He said he would, Tommy.” “Send him down, then.”

It didn’t take long before the fireborn joined the younger in the avian’s crop, a soft trill escaping the larger of the three. “What happened out there?” “I burned Q on accident.” Sapnap’s eyes were glowing, which gave Tommy the ability to watch them contort into guilt again. “I mean, it sounds to me like he forgave you.” “He’s not gonna believe us, Tommy.” “That’s bullshit.” He huffed, crossing his arms and leaning against the other. With a small chuckle, he wrapped an arm around the teen, smiling when he felt him relax. “We good to nap, Q?” “Go ahead. Might be able to get some work done now.”

At least, he thought he would until his door was slammed open, the sound making his fiancé and himself jump. “Where the fuck is he!?” Wilbur looked angry and frantic all the same, looking around the office. “Who?” “Tommy! He fucking said he was going to prank you, and I told him not to. I should have fucking known he would run off to try anyway.” “Well, Sapnap ran into him on the way here.” The brunette froze, watching his face for a while before his shoulders dropped. “Christ sake, can you fucking tell one of us before you do that? At least me or Phil so we don’t think he got fucking killed or something? He’s too reckless for his own good.” “It slipped my mind, had some other stuff going on. Besides, he did prank me so he had it coming.”

“What’s going on, Big S?” “Pretty sure your brother just tore Quackity’s office apart looking for you.” “Oh for fucks sake-“ “I’d let it be. It doesn’t sound like he’s gonna force Q to let you out.” “I’d rather he leave. He doesn’t need to know about this.” The fireborn’s night vision allowed him to spot the tips of the teenager’s ears turn a bright red. “Are you embarrassed by it?” “No! Maybe. It’s weird when your family finds you in someone else’s stomach, okay? Especially since my family were the only ones who stored me until now.” Sapnap gave an amused huff. “Wanna give my storage stomach a try?” “I’d be willing to if Wilbur wouldn’t fucking ruin it again.”

“You two are the most fucking distracting people I’ve ever stored, and I’ve stored Wilbur and Karl.” “I’ll take it as a compliment, Big Q.” “Oh, you know I love you.” “Love you too. Now please let me work.” “Depends on it Wilbur’s still out there-“ “He’s letting me work, unlike you two. Take a damn nap like you planned on.” “Not if he’s still out there!” Tommy bristled. “You- okay, do you want to be let out?” “I want him to leave. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me?” The avian scoffed in response. “I’ve never fucking understood you or Sapnap’s fucking humility to this. It’s a fucking natural thing, the entire goddamn SMP is aware of this shit by now. Nobody’s gonna judge you. And Wilbur wouldn’t have room to talk anyway.”

“If you’re sleeping you won’t think about him.” Sapnap offered, opening his arm again for the other to tuck himself back into his side, which he did after giving an annoyed ‘hmph’. The fireborn adjusted his temperature a bit, warming himself up only slightly. Not enough to hurt either the teen or his fiancé, but enough to lull the rambunctious kid to sleep. And sleep he did, a lot faster than he was expecting him to. Resting his head atop the other’s, he let himself drift off too.

~ ~ ~

Karl had a knowing grin on his face when the two walked through the door, and they already knew they were screwed. “So, what happened with Wilbur today?” “He came to see me while I worked.” “Mhm. And Tommy?” “Jesus Christ, he can’t keep a fucking secret to save his goddamn life can he?” “He cares, Q! I think it’s cute.” “I think it’s annoying.”

The trio retired to their bedroom, all getting in pajamas and climbing into bed, though Quackity refused to lay down yet. “Karl, we gotta talk about something.” “We do?” “We do.” He nodded at the fireborn, who cringed and shook his head. “Sapnap came to help me with my instincts, got Tommy involved and made it a prank. Well, Foolish brought me a splash shrinking potion before Sapnap showed up, so I used it against him and he got rightfully upset by it.” “Not rightfu-“ “And he lost control of his temperature and burned my hand. And now he’s refusing the accept the fact that it was an accident. So can you talk some sense into our lovable but stupid fiancé?” “Don’t call me stupid!” “Sapnap, why are you blaming yourself for that? It does sound like an accident. We all know you’d never intentionally hurt us, no matter how upset you get with us.” “If we’re gonna talk about this kind of crap, how about we talk about the guilt Quackity’s still hiding about the first time he stored me?” “George said-“ “George fucking overexaggerated it. I got a little nervous because he was glaring at me and tried to pick me up. The residual fear wasn’t just because of you, I don’t mind getting stored. Before you did it that first time? The last time I got stored was the first time Skeppy found out about it. I was a kid, guys. Everyone started panicking and I got scared because I thought I was in danger.”

All three of them were sitting up now, and both his fiancés looked shocked at the information presented to them. “Oh, Sapnap..” “You- why wouldn’t you tell us this kind of thing when we started doing stuff like this?” “Because I got over it? Like Karl got over his hesitance of doing it.” “But mine was never straight up fear!” “I.. I think we’ve just had a lot of miscommunication. Again.” “When don’t we at this point?” An amused tone tinged the avian’s words, but there was no smile on his face. “That’s why we have discussions like this. To work through this. I mean, it would be stupid to end our relationship over a silly arguement.” Karl gave the two a smile. “I love both of you a little too much for that.” “I love you two too but fuck, can we stop not telling each other important shit?” “I think that can be arranged.” Sapnap chuckled, all three smiling at each other.

Setting up the bed took a little longer, thanks to Karl being in his normal form, and it resulted in the fireborn being pushed to the middle of the cuddle pile. Not that he was complaining, he didn’t care where he wound up as long as he could lay down with both his fiancés. Though, it was a little funny that Karl could practically wrap his arm completely around Sapnap’s torso and still be able to do the same to Quackity as well, and lord knows how tangled up all their legs would be in the morning. But it was perfect for them, and that’s all the trio cared about.

#injury tw #shrunken manhunt #mcyt g/t #mcyt vore #mcyt gt #safe vore #soft vore #g/t vore

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megreads22 · 1 year

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So this is my first time posting something and I’m a tad bit terrified. Hope you like it.

There’s something spine-chilling about seeing someone so seemingly unhinged stalking towards you. Especially if that someone had super strength and held a gleaming needle in one hand. Especially especially if that someone just knocked out (hopefully just knocked out) the one person who you thought was invincible.

I swallow and throw up a shield made out of wind, staggering back from where Mark, the (hopefully) knocked out superhero and my best friend, pushed me before getting the snot knocked out of him by this man. Mark didn’t have a chance to even fight back before he was on the ground, leaving me alone with Mr. Psycho. He stood between me and my best friend on the rooftop. Moonlight shines on his gleaming eyes.

The man smiles. “I’m so glad we’re finally alone,” he says, voice like honey. “I’ve been looking forward to this for too long.”

Cold seeps down my body. I’m not one to banter with the people Mark and I fight. That’s normally Mark’s job. Mark, my wonderful, annoying, amazing partner in crime-fighting that isn’t moving--. Nope, not thinking about it. He’s fine and will wake up any second, I just have to get him away from this man.

I swallow again, thinking. There had to be a way to get out of this situation. Dozens of plans flashes through my mind in a heartbeat, none of them standing out. Running is an option, but there’s no way I can get to safety while carrying Mark. Fighting head on seems like a death wish. God, I wish Mark would wake up.

The man chuckles. “I can practically see your marvelous mind working. Moving a mile a second. Amazing.”

The cold continues its invasion to my chest. Marvelous? Okay. Cool, cool, cool. The bad guy is complimenting me. Nothing creepy about that.

He steps closer. “But that’s only part of your charm, isn’t it? You’ve also got amazing abilities: air manipulation, flight, and don’t let me forget your amazing weather manipulation you try so hard to conceal.”

My constant stream of plans scream to a halt. That’s not possible. Nobody except Mark knows about those powers. I thought I’ve done so well controlling them; hiding their destructive inclinations. “W-hat? T-hat’s not… How? How do you know that?”

Only when he raises an amused eyebrow do I curse my stupidity. I didn’t even think to deny it. Idiot.

“She speaks.” His demented smirk grows. “I know all about you. Maybe more than you know yourself. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. We’ll discuss this later once we get you home. You’ll be in a more suitable, safer, environment.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit. Home? We? Oh, hell to the no! My secret powers can wait. We need to get out of this situation fast. I take another step back, chancing a glance at Mark. His chest rises and falls. I let out a breath, thanking whatever gods who are listening that he’s still alive. However, there’s no telling how long it’ll take for him to wake up or what condition he’ll be in when he does. I guess it’s just me, myself, and I against this creeper. Yay.

I look back up at our attacker. He’s assessing me. Looking for any weaknesses. He’s sure to find a whole lot if I don’t move soon, so I think of a plan.

“Yeah, buddy. I don’t think so,” I say before dropping my shield and leaping up to kick him in the face.

He staggers back, giving me enough time to fly around him. I race towards Mark.

“Really?” The man grabs my ankle. “Did you really think that would work?”

The next thing I know is the hard cement pressing into my back and the stars spinning above me. I gasp, or try to at least, as I struggle to catch my breath.

I blink away the dizziness to see the man standing above me.

“I knew that you were going to try something, but did it really have to be this obvious?” He crouches down with the needle in hand getting closer to my neck. “But don’t worry, I’ll fix that. I’m gonna help you.”

Panic seized my throat. This can’t be happening. It’s a nightmare. It has to be. Then, as if the situation can’t get any worse, something in my chest breaks, releasing everything I’ve tried for years to keep at bay. Power rushes out of every pore of my skin sending lightning flying in every direction. It throws the man away as easily as one swats a slow fly. My thoughts fragment into pieces that pierce my skull, making it impossible to stop my torrent from lifting me in the air.

“No! No! No!” I can’t stop saying it as rain pounds the rooftop and lightning comes out of my hands. I try to take deep breaths but all I can think about is how this is getting worse, how it was going to hurt people just like before, how it was all my fault. How everything was all my fault.

“Oh my God!” I hear the man say. “This is better than I could’ve dreamed!”

His delight sends another wave of panic through me, causing a gale of icy wind. Rain turns to snow around me.

“No! No! No! Please stop! Please stop!” I dig my nails into my palms, hoping pain will stop me but it does nothing.

Suddenly, a force hits me in the air. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s the man. A sharp pain radiates down my neck before disappearing. I flinch. The needle. He got me with the needle.

“Shh, shh, shh. It’s alright,” he whispers in my ear.

My scattered thoughts turn even more chaotic as questions flood my brain. What was that? Who the hell is this guy? Is Mark okay? Yet, I’m not leeching anymore power. In fact, everything is starting to calm down. We even start floating down.

“Shh, I’ve got you. Everything will be okay. You’re okay,” the man says, his grip unwavering. I try to move my arms, but they just barely wiggle.

“What… What did you do to me?” I slur. Everything suddenly feels quite heavy. My thoughts slow down to a crawl, which I would’ve given anything for a minute ago. Now, it can only mean disaster.

He caresses my cheek. “It’s okay, Maggie. It’s just a sedative so you don’t hurt yourself.”

Maggie? He knows my name?

“Who… who are you?” It’s getting hard to form complete thoughts. And when did I close my eyes? I force them open.

He smiles as if he didn’t drug me. “Someone who wants you to reach your full potential. Hush now. I’ll explain it to you when you wake up. Sleep well.”

He kisses my forehead as everything goes dark.

#hero x villain #super powers #cw: kidnapping

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simgirlsofhillsidehaven · 3 days

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Having been compelled to forget the worst of Chloe's recent bite, Vicky was in a good mood. She knew they had to come up with a plan to get Chloe back into school and reunite her with her family as much as they could. The less time Chloe was considered dead (and had to hide), the better. Vicky had been told that Chloe would have a difficult time with control for a while. The syndicate had insisted that Chloe be closely monitored and not return to her previous home until she was no longer a threat to the general population and the secrecy of vampire kind. Vicky didn't like the restrictions, but she knew (instinctively) the syndicate was powerful and could cause them trouble, even harm, if Chloe and Vicky didn't toe the line. Personally, she didn't feel that Chloe was a threat to anyone (little did she realise how slyly Chloe had bitten her).

Vicky talked it over with Chloe. It was agreed that they would contact Zuri and reunite mother and daughter there at Hillside Haven. Zuri would be allowed to visit and likely Chloe would go over in turn, but Chloe could not live with her only family; at least for the time being.

They also agreed that Chloe would return to Copperdale High School. Zuri would know the truth, though they wouldn't tell Principal Prescott. As far as the school and other students knew, there had been an attack and Chloe had been mistakenly thought dead, but she had in fact recovered from her injuries. As long as they weren't specific about the nature of those injuries, Chloe might not even have to show signs of any infirmity or scarring. Chloe would pretend to be embarrassed, shocked and forgetful about the attack and generally change the subject as quickly as possible. Vicky and Chloe would do their best to deal with any situations as they arose.

So Vicky rang Zuri Samuels. A very confused and visibly grieving Zuri came, as arranged, early that evening to meet the stranger who had merely said that she had "information about your daughter Chloe".

Vicky told Zuri "I have recently been contacted by a secretive syndicate who monitors and conceals the existence of vampires among us. They learnt about my work at Hillside Haven here. The group home I run for girls. This syndicate, they wanted me to provide a home for your daughter Chloe. See, Chloe was attacked by a vampire and awoke in the funeral home. She's alive Ms. Samuels. Just not quite the way you and I are..."

During this speech, Zuri's face ran a gamut of emotions. Fascination, confusion, shocked disgust and then disbelief. Zuri had vivid memories of choosing a coffin for her seventeen-year-old, of seeing her only child's lifeless body.

"Chloe" Vicky called "Come and join us" and Chloe walked out of the kitchen to face her mother.

Once more Zuri's expression changed rapidly. Shock, awe and disbelief warred with joy and longing. Chloe and Zuri embraced for a long, long moment.

Finally the pair pulled apart.

"How?!" Zuri exclaimed.

"Vicky told you. The man that attacked me was some sort of vampire. I woke up at the funeral home, I guess it was lucky that it was late afternoon, but not too late -not many people around. Mr. Anderson is part of that syndicate thing, that's why he works as an undertaker, to look out for the victims of vampires who become vampires themselves. "

Zuri held her hands out in a 'Stop. Wait' gesture.

"Yeah. It's totally weird. I don't get it all myself. I had to wait at the funeral home for what felt like ages. And they bought me blood. In bags, you know? And Mr. Anderson told me I'm a vampire now, that there are actually a lot of them, well, us..."

"Do you believe it? All the girls at school going on about Edward Cullen and all this time there's these honest to God creepers running about sucking people's necks."

Seeing her Mum struggling, Chloe rushed to reassure "But don't worry. Vampires don't have to bite people. Only the few really bad, out of control ones hurt others. Most vampires live on donor blood... bags, remember?"

Zuri hadn't truly slept in days and was still wearing the same paint spattered clothes in which she had answered the door to every parent's worst nightmare. She was beginning to think she was dreaming or going mad.

Believing she would awake at any moment, faced again with the loss of Chloe, Zuri listened as Vicky explained how Chloe could not come home, how Zuri was welcome to visit anytime. The trio sat in the living room and for a time no one spoke further. The other girls (Jamie and Rose) had agreed to stay upstairs and take themselves to bed if necessary. Vicky fetched coffee and Zuri wondered at the aroma, the warmth and the rich taste. Surely no dream was like, that. You didn't smell things in dreams. Zuri wondered again if Chloes death had shattered her mental facilities completely.

Then Chloe began showing signs of restlessness. Her hunger was getting the better of her again. Vicky pressed a business card into Zuri's hands and as politely as possible, shooed her out the door and into her car...

#sims 4 #simblr #hillsidehavengirls #first year #ts4 vampires

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redorich · 3 years

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Hey what if the Hermits got to see Tommy’s version of war. Someone mentions going to war but it’s the friendly hermit kind of war. Tommy while he seems calm is internally panicking. He grinds just like Techno in the neather. No one sees him for three days and then he grabs a few people on his side and says, “It’s finally done come on- well not totally done but good enough to show.” And he leads them to a far off hidden base with chests of top tier armor, golden apples, over a dozen full stacks of tnt and one full stack of wither skulls. Tommy even shoves a sharpness 3, burning, looting, and unbreaking sword into Grain’s arms while talking battle plans -🐍

The thing is, Impulse thinks, none of this is impressive to him. Well, relatively. Tommy's eyes shine at the elaborate secret base he's built, but he doesn't even have a redstone door. It's just a block in the ground that he mines up and replaces every time he wants to get in and out. There's enchanted netherite armor for everyone, and yeah, the stuff's not easy to get, but Cub has a whole room in his pyramid made of ancient debris. Impulse knows that Iskall has an insane gold farm, so golden apples come cheap. The very specific eleven and one half stacks of TNT are pocket change to Impulse, who regularly steals from Tango’s creeper farm. The damn thing’s so efficient that Tango doesn’t even notice. Impulse himself has a wither skeleton farm so efficient that he sells beacons for dirt cheap.

But here’s the thing.

Tommy doesn’t have a wither skeleton farm. He has no creeper farm, no gold farm, nothing. Every farm he has is small scale, so early game that most of the hermits barely bother with them: a wheat farm, a pit with some cows in it, an afk fish farm. (Tommy doesn’t even know that fish farms are out of fashion, now that 1.16 has nerfed them.)

For Tommy, what he has is the pinnacle of grinding. He’s spent days preparing for war. He comes from a poor server, everyone is aware but is too nice to say. He hoards shulker boxes like they’re 12 bamboo, hides anything he doesn’t want stolen in his ender chest even though he trusts the hermits now. How long has it taken him to accumulate this much? How much time did he spend mining away in the Nether, all alone save for his determination? How many times did he die to a creeper trying to collect its gunpowder? How long has he spent underground, mining away at gold ore?

It scares Impulse. Tommy’s a motivated person, yes, but this level of material preparation? It makes Impulse think that Tommy doesn’t quite understand what the hermits mean by war. Impulse looks at the young man, really looks at him. His coat is even more raggedy, meticulously stitched back together. His body language betrays the exuberance in his voice; the boy is dead on his feet. If Impulse were to remove Tommy’s smiley mask, he knows he’d see deep-set bags under Tommy’s eyes. Impulse thinks that Tommy is so tired he might just let Impulse do it.

Tommy understands war a little too well. He is familiar with it, has personally danced with the devil in a way that few hermits have. Impulse puts his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Tommy,” he says softly, “I don’t think we have the same idea of what war is.”

Tommy tilts his head in silent confusion.

“Don’t get me wrong, this is all very impressive,” Impulse sighs, gesturing to all the accumulated weaponry, “but Hermitcraft doesn’t do war like that. No one’s going to be in danger.”

“But it’s a war?? Danger’s kinda-- it’s kind of a requirement, innit?”

Impulse tries a different tactic. “Remember when you were new here, and you explained to us what a ‘canon death’ is? And how Xisuma told you that you’re always allowed to respawn?”

Tommy nods warily, so Impulse continues. “So if we’re always allowed to respawn, why would we kill each other?”

“Is... Is Hermitcraft war about suffering, then? If you can’t kill your opponent, then you make them suffer while they’re alive, right?”

Impulse is horrified. As soon as he’s done with Tommy, he’s going straight to Zedaph’s base for a hug and possibly booze. What the actual fuck, Tommy is so young! And he genuinely believes that the hermits would... Tommy must have been a child during whatever war he’d seen, participated in! Is he even an adult now? Is he still a kid?

Impulse has been silent for too long; Tommy can sense he’s said something wrong. He doesn’t correct it, though. Xisuma rolled back the server to give him his compass back once, after he died in lava. Xisuma will do it again if Impulse kills him.

“Hermitcraft war isn’t real war, Tommy,” Impulse says softly. “It’s not about hurting other people. It’s about winning. It’s about having fun. We solve our wars through minigames, and PvP matches, and pranks, and IOUs. We’re all friends here.”

“I don’t understand.” Tommy’s reverting back to the quiet, contemplative young man that he was when he first showed up, the man they know now that he is not. Impulse has to stop this before it gets worse.

“We call it war, but it’s just a competition. I appreciate the amount of effort you put into trying to protect us, but we were never in danger.”

The masked young man says nothing, but sits down on the floor heavily. Impulse sits down with him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Let me tell you a funny story from the Hermitcraft Civil War of season six...”

It’ll be okay. It has to be.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommyinnit #tommyinnit #impulsesv #tango tek #iskall #iskall85 #xisumavoid #xisuma #cubfan135 #me.cpp

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sleepy-dreamers-inc · 3 years

Text

Being Exiled with Tommy Headcannons!|| 🥀

irl/ in-game

Genre| angst + comfort

h e a d c a n n o n s||

Sypnosis|

Both you and Tommy ended up getting exiled together.

Artist| OliverSonder on twitter!!

Warnings] mentions of manipulation, character death, spoilers for Tommy’s Exile Arc and the Season 2 finale!!

[can be seen as both platonic or romantic!!]

||gender neutral reader!!||

(also this was not grammar checked and im to lazy to watch through hours of footage so if anything in here is wrong blame it on the DSMP Wiki OKAY LETS GO-)

So i think its pretty established that if you end up getting exiled with Tommy your one of two things.

- Really sweet and loyal friend that will stick up for in-justice and be there when someone needs you the most

- A total fucking gremlin that will steal your kneecaps and toes and eat your shower curtains in the middle of the night.

There is no inbetween here you guys.

I did end up going for Reader A, though. But you guys tell me if you want headcannons for a gremlin!reader because i will gladly do that!!

But anyways just... enjoy exile!

Exile|

- It was about his third day in exile when Y/N appeared through the nether portal, bags, pouches, tools, armor, etc. on their person. Tommy thought they either were here to beat him up or got exiled themselves.

- Tommy was pleasantly surprised when he learned that Y/N was actually there on their own accord, helping him through exile and being his shoulder to lean on. The first few days we’re rough, fighting back mobs in the night and farming crops all day. His clothes we’re starting to get dirty and torn by the time Y/N got there.

- Y/N ended up making a little bunker about 30 blocks from where they’re tent was, where they hid all theirs and Tommy’s valuables, such as armor, diamonds & iron, and rations. Although Y/N never gave into Dream and gave him they’re stuff, Y/N simply refused, they wouldn’t be giving in that easily.

- Most of they’re days are spent in caves mining away, chatting and fighting off Creeper’s as they tried to keep the moral high, always keeping Tommy company. Y/N never let him go anywhere alone, they we’re always with him, like his own bodyguard of sorts.

- One time they both find a Mineshaft though and got lost, they ended up at the surface two dayd later with torn clothes, cuts and bruises and we’re in bad shape. Thankfully Y/N had a brewing stand at they’re camp though, so Healing Potions we’re semi-easy to make/get.

- After the duo end up going to the artic though... things got... weird.

- Techno was not expecting to open his door to find the heathen Tommy and sweetheart Y/N at his doorstep shivering and begging to come inside, bags thrown on they’re shoulders as they teeth chattered from the cold wind and snow.

- Whenever Dream comes to visit Y/N always has to hide with Tommy, reassuring him that its okay and they’ll always be there for him, and protect him at any cost, which he highly appreciates.

- The ‘gapple-eating’ thing Tommy did was a cute, yet depressing thing. Seeing him hasitly munching on golden-coated apples was funny and caused giggles, but the meaning behind it always left Y/N with a lump in their throat and a hole in their heart.

- Whenever Tommy is in danger and calls for Dream, Y/N always has to stop him and bring him back to reality, making Tommy realize Dream isnt his friend, and never was. Many nights have happened where the two talk about Tommy’s feelings with Dream, not only for Tommy to vent and let everything out, but also for Y/N to understand whats going on in his head.

- When going into the Nether Tommy always grips Y/N’s hand, as his fear of lava and heights consumes him whole in that firey dimension.

- When Tommy gets up close to Dream in the cabin? Y/N is scared spineless, if people could see them, they’d see the palest, most terrified and worried being on earth.

- Y/N having a heart attack when Ghostbur slips up

- Ghostbur is just a whole thing and just. Y/N needs a break, okay?

- Y/N begrudgingly helping Tommy build his cobblestone tower outside of Techno’s cabin.

- Y/N apologizing soon after to Techno only for him to laugh and ruffle Y/N’s hair, saying he knows how Tommy can get anyone to any situation.

- Very rarely does Y/N ever leave Tommy’s side, when they do its usually to get supplies or visit they’re friends. So when Y/N was walking back to the Nether portal to see Tommy, Techno and Dream all standing there, looking like they’re about to slit the others throat, well...

- Nobody has ever seen Y/N drop kick a person so fast.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Y/N yelled, they’re sword at Dream’s neck, as he laid on his back, his mask covering his shocked expression.

“Answer. Me.” Y/N gritted through their teeth, pushing their swordfurther against the masked mans throat. Techno soon chimed in, reassuring Y/N that nothing to terrible happened.

“It’s fine, Y/N. He didn’t do anything, why not we head back home? Wouldn’t want that homeless man to be to scared spineless, eh?” Techno said, hand on they’re shoulder as he looked Y/N in the eyes.

The 3 walked back to the Nether portal, purple mist engulfing Tommy and Techno as Y/N stood in front of the portal. Back turned towards Dream, Y/N shifted they’re head and glared at Dream with eyes that could kill.

“Don’t do anything you might regret, you megalomaniac.”

- When Tommy and Tubbo decide to go fight Dream, Y/N is both excited and scared. They hope Dream will finally be taken down, but they dont want Tommy (& Tubbo) to be taken down as well.

- So like any amazing best friend, Y/N brews up a bunch of potions of Strength, Healing + Regen, Invisibility and more. Even if Tommy thought he was going to be walking out of there alone, he wasn’t going to be. Y/N would make sure.

- Y/N watched from afar as Tommy got his disc out of the jukebox, laughing in success. All Y/N did was clap quietly, making sure they’re Invisibility didn’t wear off. They we’re making sure Tommy stayed safe, even if he didn’t realize it. Y/N loved him with they’re whole heart, and everyone knew that.

- At Dreams secret base, Y/N was just getting there as Tommy took Dreams first canon life.

“Tommy. Stop. Dont do anything you might regret.” Dream snarled, looking at the teenage boy, his blue eyes dull, yet full of passion and vigor.

All Tommy did was pursue forward, as everyone waited for what was to come. Tommy took one step to close though, because Dream had decided that he had enough.

Dream brought his arm into the air, hand curled into a fist, he was about to hurl his hand into Tommy’s face when Dream suddenly fell to the ground, arrow in his forehead.

Dream was shot by Y/N

Y/N stood there, enchanted bow in hand, infront of the nether portal that swirled with an eerie purple mist. Y/N lowered their bow, staring at the man who tortured Tommy for weeks now. Y/N simply stepped forward and towered over Dreams corpse before it disappeared in thin air.

Lets just say Dream wouldn’t be hurting the blonde heathen anytime soon.

a/n: howdy everyone how we doing? Decided to do Tommy x Reader for this post, although i am MAJORLY simping for Wilbur atm and i have brainrot so that’ll most likely be the next post (if i dont do a pt. 2 for this one but even so WILBUR).

Anyways i hope i did racooninnit justice, i have no idea how to do headcannons since half the time i ramble (its the adhd) so this was new for me. Definitely not my strong suit but like you live ya learn. Also, sorry if i left out quite a lot, i might make a fic about this and include more events, but this is really long for headcannons (because of my layout) so i didn’t include to much. I dont want people scrolling for like 20 seconds to go to another post (i write on mobile so undercut is not a thing for me RIP)

Anyways have a lovely day and dont let Tommy eat all your gapples!!

#tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit fanfic #tommy x reader #tommy imagine #tommy fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream smp fanfiction #dreamer posts ♠️

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thesmpisonfire · 3 years

Text

A Fundy and Tommy meeting, and neither of them knows how to express their feelings without screaming.

Its ends well, don’t worry. I’m after my second clown certificate

Tommy was alone in his tent. Not even Dream was around this time. He kept breaking logs, building "tiki torches" and trying his best to not look at the beach. It had passed 2 days already, and no one appeared, so they certainly didn't care. Ghostbur passed around the beginning of the day, now off to find a horse (Ghostbur remembered that Tommy had a horse, once. It made him happy, so he was after another one), but Tommy couldn't care less. Ghostbur also didn't appeared at his beach party.

Only Dream. Like always.

Maybe it was meant to be like that.

His pity thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone crossing the portal, his first thought being "Tubbo!". Tommy quickly brushed it off, Tubbo didn't care enough to visit him. "Ranboo?" Was his second guess, but he didn't hear the usual greetings, so it wasn't the half enderman. Then, it was set on "...Dream", as it should be in the first place. He sighed, quickly taking off his newly made iron armor.

"Hello, Dream.... Let's get this done alrea-"

Tommy turned around, looking to a very confused face that certainly wasn't Dream. Fundy was holding something in an picnic bag, those ones that kept the cold inside, some ashes in his clothes and a lil bit of the jacket more burned.

"I really don't know if I should ask about the 'Dream' thing, or why you put a fucking plank to people get to your portal." He kinda laughed, trying to brush of the uncomfortable mood.

Tommy went silent, holding his armor close and and walking away from Fundy. "If people want to visit me, they need to fucking prove it." Tommy said, bitter as he never was before.

Fundy left the picnic bag at Tommy's tent, watching the kid put his things in a secret chest. "Well, you are only making it easier to die. I fixed it after I crossed" Fundy smiled, proud of himself.

Tommy froze, turning back to the fox. "You did what?" Conflicted feelings were fighting inside of him now. On one side, he was angry that Fundy was messing with his ideas and plans. At the order, he was so happy. If Fundy fixed it, it was because he had the intention to come back more often, and Tommy was so happy with it.

"Fixed the bridge, we don't wanna people falling down in their way here, do we?" Fundy smiled at Tommy as soon as he approached.

Tommy was tempted to smile too, but he was seeing something off. This was Fundy. The scammer. The once traitor. The sly fox.

The voice in his head wasn't even his anymore, sounding too much like a certain masked man, filling him with doubt and fear.

"What the fuck do you want?"

Fundy looked like he just got slapped in the face, not imagining this reaction, specially out of nowhere like that.

"What? What do you mean, Tommy?"

"You must be after something, aren't you?" Tommy's words were filled with anger and resentment, the monsters in his mind talking for him. "What is it? Untouched forest? Mines still unexplored?" He slowly approached Fundy, pointing at his face.

"Tommy, I'm not after any of those things!" Fundy explained himself, now more worried than ever.

Tommy let out a dry laugh, looking around now. "So, it's because you fucking pity me, don't you?" He pointed to himself now, then to the picnic bag. "You even brought up a pity present!"

Fundy was just bringing some primecicles he and Ranboo had just made, but he couldn't spoil any of it. "Tommy, I'm not pitying you." He tried to reason, pitching the bridge of his nose. Patience, Fundy... The kid is messed up. Don't make it worse.

"Yes, you are! You don't care about me! None of you care about me!" Tommy walked away, laughing. “You all doesn’t even bother to visit me anymore!”

Fundy couldn’t be more confused. He was right there, visiting. What the hell was happening to Tommy?

The coder was a smart person, even if people tend to overlook it. Fundy noticed the explosion holes poorly covered up, the dull blue eyes, the beaten up clothes. He just didn’t want to address it in order to not make the atmosphere uncomfortable, but Tommy was really pushing up. Fundy and Tommy never had any boundaries in their fights, being pretty open about their sides, and things were starting to spill, hot and hurtful.

“Tommy, I am right here and...” Fundy got interrupted by Tommy’s outburst, tears forming at the corners of the kid’s eyes.

“YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT ME!” Tommy shouted, screaming loudly enough to scare a nearby bird. “NONE OF YOU EVEN MISS ME! YOU ALL LEFT ME ALONE!”

Even if Tommy was the one crying and shouting his feelings out loud, he saw the moment he messed up. Fundy’s ears flattened against his head and his tail went still. Tommy, the once brave and reckless Tommy, took a step back when he saw Fundy clenching his fist.

“Oh, you think people left you?” Fundy’s voice was low, a bittersweet smile now open.

Tommy was hurt in so many ways, indescribable ones, but Fundy wasn’t far behind.

Fundy approached Tommy, looking at the teenager in the eyes.

“Say it again.”

“...What?”

“Say it again, Tommy!” Fundy raised his voice, losing his limit. Neither of them was good with hiding their feelings. “Say again that people are leaving you!”

Tommy opened his mouth to repeat, but nothing was said. Fundy looked as hurt as him, and he was clearly not pitying the teenager, so Tommy was willing to listen

Fundy breathed in, trying to calm himself. “Tommy, you were the one who made that Christmas tree?”

“...No”

“Those discs you have right now, you got them alone?”

“No.”

“Did you built the tent alone?”

“No, but...”

“The very first day...” Fundy’s voice broke a little, but he quickly dismissed it. “You were alone here?”

“Ghostbur came with me.”

“Yes, he did.” Fundy sadly smiled, his voice a lot calmer now. “Who helped you with the beach?”

“Drea-”

“No.” Fundy cut him short, a hand on his shoulder. “That fucking bastard is the cause you are here. He basically forced your exile to happen. He was not helping, he was watching.” Tommy closed his eyes, his mind spinning.

Dream is a friend. Dream put you here. Dream has been good with you. Dream is a fucking monster. Dream cares about you. Dreams cares about nothing but the discs.

“Tommy... Who was here with you, helping with the beach?” Fundy’s voice was soft, as he hoped that he wasn’t pushing too much.

“Ghostbur, you, and Phil...” Tommy’s voice was so small, so broken.

“Yes, we were.” Fundy waited for Tommy open his eyes, which he did, tears stains in his face.

“Ranboo tries to visit you everyday, and I’m trying to do the same.” Fundy reassured Tommy, looking around. “But... Dream is always here, and we don’t want to mess anything and lose contact with you.”

Tommy blinked, pieces matching together. That was why his friends weren’t there? Because of Dream? That was why Dream was always there?

“Ranboo also told me about a beach party... That I never got the invite...”

“Dream said it was delivered by Ghostbur in your mails!” Tommy shouted again.

“We don't even have mailboxes in L’manberg, Tommy! How we could have received mail?” Fundy snapped back.

Tommy felt like everything was falling apart again, revealing a not so pleasant truth. “He... He could have slipped under the doors... or...”

“Tommy. There were no invites.” Fundy held him by his shoulders again.

They went silent, Tommy’s eyes darting around while his whole reality was shaking. “But... Tubbo hates me, right? He destroyed the compass.” He sounded lost again.

“It was my fault.” Fundy mumbled, not looking at Tommy. “He died and... I should have been faster when picking up his stuff, a creeper ended up exploding it... The compass broke. But Tubbo still have it, even if it doesn’t have the needle anymore.” Tommy felt like crying again.

But Dream said...

Dream was fucking lying.

“I know he doesn’t visit you... He is scared that you hates him.” Fundy confessed. “That’s why he came when you weren’t around.” He played with his jacket, looking at the portal’s direction. “Tubbo misses you, man.”

Tommy angrily cleaned his tears, looking at Fundy. He pushed the fox, not as strong as he was thinking. “Stop lying to me!” He shouted, trying to push Fundy again. He felt Fundy holding his arms, and he didn’t have the strength to fight back. Tommy was still crying, not knowing in who to believe.

Dream was there everyday for him, he have Tommy gear, he was the only person not pitying Tommy- Tommy had so many other friends coming over, he had received things because his friends wanted to help him- Tommy was alone- Tommy was not alone.

“I am not lying, Tommy. I wouldn’t do this.” Fundy freed Tommy’s arms.

“You are always lying...” Tommy mumbled.

“Not about this.” Fundy was serious, Tommy could hear in his voice.

“Then... Dream lied to me.”

The fox just nodded, feeling that talking would interrupt Tommy’s line of thought.

Well, he didn’t expected Tommy to silent walk away, come back with a trident while walking towards the beach, and throw it away with the most angered, betrayed, heartbreaking scream Tommy had ever made.

Fundy approached Tommy, who was sitting on the sand, face hidden in his hands. Fundy hugged him by the side, rubbing his arm a little, and Fundy couldn’t stop the memories back at the L’manberg Independence war. Those cold nights where he, Tommy and Tubbo had to spend up on the walls, watching over for enemies. The two would always end up sleeping on Fundy’s shoulders, one with his jacket and other with his tail around. Wilbur gave up on scolding them for their lack of self care in sleeping on the job after some time, and just started to do the watching himself. Easier times that would never come back .

“I will fight him back.” Tommy said, looking up and sniffling.

Fundy smiled, seeing that small spark in Tommy’s eyes. “We are already planning something at our front” The fox got up, cleaning the sand in his clothes. “I’m not telling you what because its nothing set but... We just need you to be strong for only a little bit more.”

Tommy weakly smiled, still sitting on the sand. “I can try-”

“Nope. Cut of this ‘try’ shit.” Fundy was harsh, but he knew Tommy, the boy still had that fire on him, it just needed to grow. “You, Tommy Innit, Big Man...” He saw Tommy chuckle, and kept going. “The guy who learned ‘The green bastard will die’ in 6 different languages just to piss off the enemy, and also the most brave person that I know...”

Fundy put a dirt block on the ground, stepping on it. “... Will you keep going strong?”

Tommy got up with the help of Fundy’s hand, smiling again for the first time in weeks. “I will be the strongest.”

“YEEEEAH!” Fundy pulled him over the dirt block, changing places and looking up to Tommy, smiling widely when he saw the shine back to his eyes. “Let’s kill that fucking bastard!” Tommy cheered, thinking about his secret room, about his compass, about his friends, his family, his home.

They heard the portal, someone crossing it. They looked at Niki and Ranboo, both of them with a cake on their hands. “I think I just missed something.” Niki smiled, and Tommy had to stop himself to run in her direction. “Sorry for the wait!” Ranboo said, approaching them. “But Niki lives in the woods now, its sooo far away and-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Tommy cut, and he meant it.

They all sat on the table at the beach, never talking about L’manburg once, instead just laughing and enjoying the sunset.

Tommy was going to fight.

And he wasn’t going to be the loser again.

#hello peeps #have some serotonin #also give me the clown certificate already #i just want a good ending ok???#i hope u like it #fundy #tommyinnit #nihachu #ranboo #dream smp #mcyt #me??? writing happy stuff???#once in a blue moon #/j

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teddy06writes · 3 years

Text

The Phantom Of The Opera AU

requested by this anon: “Okay so I know you’re a musical kid so you have probably listened to/heard of Phantom of the Opera. Picture this: Dream as the Phamtom x Fem!reader as Christine x Sapnap as Raul”

Dream x Fem!reader and Sapnap x fem!reader (with dream as the phantom and sapnap as Raul)

trigger warnings: death, dream being a low key creeper, maybe some swears, my general lack of knowledge of this musical

premise: Phantom AU, not neccicarily the full story, its mainly what I’ve seen/read/listened to that I think is important, and like eight of the songs. Ummm, I feel like the summary above is enough for you to get the general idea.

(y/l/n)- your last name

“blep” regular talking

“Belp” singing

When things are in counterpoint, regular text will be (y/n), (text in parenthesis is sapnap), and {bracketed text is Dream}

if you, like me are unfamilliar with the story, this is the summary that arrived in my inbox last night (thank you so much to the person who sent that by the way, it really helped)

“So basically phantom of the opera is a love triangle between 3 people, the Phantom (P) x Christine (C) x Raul (R). C and R were childhood friends until R had to move away. C grew up in the Opera house with her dad (deceased) as a music writer. C grows up getting “private” singing lessons from P ( he is literally talking to her through a vent ((Among Us omg)) or something idk). Fast forward into the future to present day. C is a ballerina at the opera and one day, the phantom makes the set malfunction so that the lead female opera singer (she’s a jerk. Forgot her name) can’t preform and C has to preform as the lead instead. Coincidentally, the night Christine sings as the lead is the day R comes to see her show and R is like “ooWooga she be fine now ig”. R and C catch up after the show and R goes away for a minute and then P is like “aight C imma kidnap you for a sec with no purpose whatsoever to the plot except for a cool song” and then C returns to her normal life ig. P them sends stuff to the people in charge of the Opera saying “ayo C be pretty fine, let her be the lead again” the people in charge of the opera were like “nah fam, let’s have the person who was supposed to be the lead be the lead”. Upset by this, during the show, P broke the chandelier and it fell into the audience. C is like “I love you uwu” R is like”let’s get engaged” C is like “let’s keep it a secret so the crazy P guy doesn’t find out” and little did they know during that conversation P was hiding and overheard everything and is now sad boi hours. A masquerade happens and P shows up like “ayo I heard you trynna steal my boo” and R is like “nah she my boo” and they duel or whatever. Idk how it transitions to this but the Opera runs another show and they make C the lead to not upset P. However, during a love song (Past the point of no return, it literally slaps), C realizes that the person singing isn’t the original actor, it is P! And then P straight up kidnaps C after the song, takes her to his lair and is like “boo you gotta marry me or I destroy the opera house with everyone inside it” C is like “fine ig” P takes off his mask and reveals he is hiding burn marks and he kisses C and C kisses back. P is like” my mom never even kissed me” and P let’s C go, telling her to go marry R... or you can just watch this video lmao https://youtu.be/4a5nahw3zi8″

On that note, here we go:

{that only goes for the final scene where its all three, it varies otherwise}

{Things I have learned while preparing this story, 1. the actual phantoms name is Erik, like what a nerd, 2. he’s also not actually a ghost??? He’s literally just some creeper who lives in an opera house screwing with people; also yes Eret is the strict lady who yells at everyone and talks to the phantom, deal with it}

{pls send me more musical au asks I really liked doing this, even if it took me a while}

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The ravenous applause of the audience seemed to echo in your ears, even after you had left the stage.

You’re debut as the female lead in Hannibal had been a smashing success, and as the rest of the chorus girls backstage were saying, it was all thanks to the Phantom scaring Hannah off.

Niki practically ran up to you from the rehearsal room, “(y/n) that was incredible!”

You grinned, “Oh I feel like I’m floating Niki! Thank you for volunteering me for the role.”

“Don’t thank me, Thank whoever's giving you those lessons,” She bumped her hip against yours, grinning cheekily, “And if what the girls are saying is true you’ll have to thank him for getting Hannah out of here.”

You chuckled, but before you could say anything else Madame Eret was approaching, knocking the end of their cane of the ground, “Miss Nihachu, you are a dancer are you not?”

Niki nodded.

“Then get back to rehearsal,” he waited until Niki hurried off to turn to you, “He is most pleased with your performance, here.”

You took the note from him, reading over it quietly, “Red scarf..... the attic.... little lotte?”

She simply shrugged, leaving you to turn and head up your dressing room.

As you changed out of your costume from the show you couldn’t help but hum the song that had earned the most applause, “Think of me, think of me of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbye.”

Reaching around you found your dressing gown, pulling it on and tying up the front, “Remember me, once and a while. Please, promise you’ll try...”

Your words faded off as your sat down at your vanity, beginning to brush out your hair.

“Where is your red scarf Miss (y/l/n)? I hope you haven’t lost it. Not after all the trouble I went through to retrieve it for you.”

You turned to see a tall dark hair man standing in the doorway, a grin spreading across your face as he continued, “I was only 14 and soaked to the bone...”

“Because you ran into the sea to fetch my red scarf!” You exclaimed, jumping up and flinging your arms around him excietedly, “Sapnap! How I’ve missed you!”

He chuckled, pulling away, and offering you a single red rose, “(y/n)... Little Lotte let her mind wander...”

“You remember that too?” You asked with a giggle.

Sapnap smiled and kept singing, “Little Lotte thought: am I fonder of dolls,”

“Or of goblins or shoes?” You joined in, “Or of riddles of frocks, or chocolates.”

“Those picnics n the attic...” He reminisced.

You closed your eyes, remembering those long ago days, “Father playing the violin.”

“As we read each other those dark stories of the north.”

“No what I like best, little Lotte said, is when I’m asleep in my bed,” You sang, “And the angel of music sings songs in my head!”

“The angel of music sings songs in my head.” He repeated softly.

You smiled at him, an excited fond feeling forming in your stomach as you sank back into your chair, “Father said, when I am in heaven child I will send the angel of music to you. Well now father is dead, Sapnap. And I have been visited by the angel of music.”

“Well that is very evident,” He chuckled, taking your hands, “Your performance was wonderful. And now, we shall go to supper.”

“Oh- sapnap I can’t, the angle of music is very strict.”

He didn’t seem to understand the urgency in your voice as he laughed again, “Well I shant keep you up late.”

“No- Sapnap, things have changed-”

“You have to change,” He interrupted, “And I have to grab my hat. Two minutes little lotte.”

As he went out the door you cried after him, “Sapnap! Thing have changed Sapnap!”

But he was out of earshot, and the voice that had become so familiar to you was booming, “Insolate boy! This Slave of fashion basking in your glory! Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing my triumph!”

“Angel I hear you! Speak, I listen! Stay by my side and gude me!” You begged up to the ceiling, “Angel my soul was weak! Forgive me! Enter at last master!”

“Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in the shadow I hide, look at your face in the mirror, I am their inside!”

The voice sounded closer now, and you couldn’t help but look around, “Angel of music! Hide no longer!”

You turned again, finding yourself face to face with what seemed like a mask, floating in your mirror, “Come to me, strange angel!”

“I am your angel! Come to me angel of music!”

A shadowy figure seemed to appear behind the smiling mask, a hand outstretched to you. In a daze you stood, grabbing his hand and allowing him to lead you away down a dark pathway.

“Who’s voice is that?” Sapnap asked, knocking on the now closed door, “(y/n) who’s in there?”

“Come with me angel of music!” Dream, the Phantoms voice echoed again.

“(y/n)!”

“In sleep he came to me, the voice which calls to me and speaks my name!” You moved quietly through the passages, following Dream, “And Do I dream again? for now I find, the phantom of the opera is there, inside my mind!”

“Sing once again with me our strange duet! My power over you grows stronger yet! And though you turn from me to look behind, the phantom of the opera is there! Inside your mind!” He sang, turning back to make sure you were following once more.

The walls of the tunnel seemed to widen, and you could almost make out an empty candle lit space.

You reached out, fingers almost brushing the edge of his cloak, “Those who have seen your face draw back in fear! I am the mask you wear..”

“It’s me they hear...”

As you emerged into a cross roads of the tunnels, you sang in tandem, “Your (my) spirit and your (my) voice in one combined, the phantom of the opera is there, inside your (my) mind!”

He helped you into the boat that waited in one tunnel, before casting off, propelling the boat down the slow moving current, “In all your fantasies, you always knew the man and mystery...”

“Were both in you....” You sang softly as the boat came to dock in a wide chamber.

Slowly you climbed out of the boat after him, looking around the dank space, and at the organ in the corner.

Dream pulled off his cloak, “And in this labyrinth where the night is blind..”

“The Phantom of the opera is there! Inside my mind......”

As the people downstairs argued, you tried to think over what had happened. Was it a dream? It didn’t seem like it, but still, a man appearing in her looking glass? Taking her away and singing words of praise, words of love, words that made nearly no sense now that it was day, and a haze covered your memory.

The one thing that remained clear was the monster she had found beyond the mask.

All too soon it seemed you were being rushed into rehearsals, being told you no longer had a speaking role, as Hannah had returned, and was back to her diva ways.

Rehearsals that would normally drag on seemed to go quicker now, and soon you and the rest of the girls were getting ready for the performance.

“This is ridiculous,” Niki muttered as she adjusted her costume, “You should be playing the duchess, not Hannab.”

“Hannah is the featured soprano. She’s always the lead.” You retorted.

“But how will Sapnap know to look for you in the chorus?” Niki teased.

You elbowed her, laughing lightly, “Shut up. Besides I doubt the phantom would let him see me again.”

The show had gone well, at least until the fifth scene.

All the music stopped abruptly as a voice boomed, “Did I not instruct that box five was to be left empty?”

“He’s here: The Phantom Of The Opera!” Niki cried from offstage.

Your head jerked up to turn and look at the audience, “It’s Dream!”

“Your part is silent, you toad!” Hannah snapped.

From somewhere up in the audience Dream frowned, “A toad Madame? Perhaps it is you who is the toad...”

Hanna opened her mouth to continue on her script, but no sound seemed to come out, save for what was close the a croak.

The men who had bought the opera house, Wilbur and Tommy were coming rushing down from their box, “Ladies and gentlemen we apologize! The performance will continue in ten minutes time, with Miss (y/l/n) as the duchess!”

Tommy nodded as Wilbur finished, “And for now, we will give you the ballet, from act three of tonight's show!”

The ballet didn’t last long, as when you returned to the wings dressed for the new role you had been given, someone let out a horrified scream.

“What the-”

You were cut off as you looked up to see Shlatt, the stagehand in charged of the curtains, hanging from the rigging, a noose fully tightened around his neck.

“Ladies and gentlemen remain calm! It was just an accident- remain calm!” Someone shouted.

Through the darkness you could make out Dream’s menacing figure, the smiling mask watching you threateningly as you clamped your hand over your mouth to stop the scream that had ripped at your throat.

“(y/n)? (y/n) are you alright?” Sapnap had run down onto the stage in all the chaos.

“We- we have to get out of here,” You choked, grabbing his hand, “We aren’t safe here.”

He didn’t seem to understand the reason behind your panic, but even so he offer you his arm, “Lets leave then.”

Twenty minutes later you ended up in an empty park, the panic that filled your chest not yet fading as Sapnap asked, “Why have you brought me here?”

“We can’t go back there!” You exclaimed.

“But we must return.” He gripped your hands, “Darling their bound to be missing you.”

You shook your head, “Sapnap- He’ll kill you! His eyes will find us there!”

“(y/n), don’t say that! It’s okay (y/n), it’s okay!”

You looked up into the darkened sky, “No it’s not- no it’s not- Those eyes that burn!”

“Don’t even think it!” He cried desperately.

You couldn’t tell whether you were trembling from fear, or from the cold, as you sang, “And if he has to kill a thousand men....”

“Forget this waking nightmare!” Sapnap insisted.

“....The phantom of the opera will kill.” You sang distractedly.

He gripped your shoulders, “This phantom is a fable, (y/n), believe me!”

“And kill again....” You shuddered at the idea of Dream doing anything to Sapnap.

Both of you sang, “God who is this man, who hunts to kill? (this mask of death?)

“I can’t escape him!” You cried.

He shook his head, “Whose voice is it you hear...”

“...I never will!”

“With every breath?”

His grip on your shoulders tightened, pulling you closer to him as you both sang, “And in this labyrinth where light is blind, the phantom of the opera is there, inside my (your) mind!”

“There is no Phantom of the Opera!”

“Sapnap- I’ve been there, inside his world of never ending light! To a world where daylight dissolves into darkness, darkness! Sapnap I’ve seen him!” You cried. “Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape that face? So distorted, disformed it was hardly a face! in the darkness, darkness. But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound in that night there was music in my mind And through music my soul began to soar! And I heard as I'd never heard before!”

“What you had was a dream and nothing more!”

You could hardly look up at him, “yet in his eyes was all the sadness in the world! Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore!”

“(y/n), (y/n)!” Sapnap exclaimed.

“.....(y/n)......” A different voice seemed to cry into the night.

You gasped, pressing yourself against Sapnap, “What was that?”

He hugged you tightly, before pulling back and singing gently, “No more talk of darkness, forget these wide eyed fears. I’m here, and nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you.”

You relaxed into his grip, listening to his quiet voice, “Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears, I’m here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.”

“Say you love me, every waking moment. Turn my head and talk of summer time,” You looked up at him, biting your lip, “Say you need me now and always, promise me that all you say is true, that's all I ask of you.”

“Let me be your shelter, let me be your light, you are safe, no one will find you. Your fears are far behind you.” He assured you, smiling softly.

“All I want is freedom, a world with no more night. And you to always be beside me, to hold me and to hide me.” You admitted.

Sapnap’s smile grew wider, “Then say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me here, beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too, (y/n), that's all I ask of you.”

“Say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time,” You repeated, “Say the word, and I’ll follow you.”

“Share each day with me, each night, each morning.” You sang together as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Say you love me?”

He smiled, whispering, “You know I do.”

“Love me- that's all I ask of you.” You both sang, before he leaned in to gently press a kiss to your lips, “Any where you go, let me go too. Love me- thats all I ask of you.”

Sapnap kissed you again, before pulling away, “We could go anywhere- we could be married! You would marry me, yes?”

“Oh, yes, Sapnap, yes I would. If you’d have me.” You nodded, eagerly.

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You couldn’t help but giggle, before turning back toward the direction of the opera house, “I must go back, they’ll wonder where I am. Wait for me Sapnap!”

“(y/n), I love you!” He exclaimed.

“Wait for me, Sapnap. Order your finest horses and being waiting by the door.” You could go back, and continue working at the opera house, there was nothing left for you to fear while Sapnap was there.

“And soon you’ll be beside me!” He chuckled.

You grinned, “To guard me and too guide me!”

Sapnap offered you his arm again, and you headed off out of the park, toward the opera house.

Slowly, Dream slinked from the shadows where he had watched the proposal, “I gave you my music, made your song take wing. And now your repaid me, denied and betrayed me.”

He groaned running a hand through his hair, “He was bound to love you, when he heard you sing. (y/n)- oh (y/n)-”

He was cut off by the sounds of your voices drifting down the street, Say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time, Say the word, and I’ll follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning.”

Dream’s hands flew to his ears, desperate to block out the sounds- he had been so sure that you could’ve loved him, but now Sapnap was stealing you away.

“You will curse the day you did not do, all that the phantom asked of you!” He bellowed.

The following weeks at the opera house were a blur of panic masked by busyness, Wilbur and Tommy refusing to let the disaster of the chandelier falling from keeping the company from working on their next performance.

You kept on working, the ring on the chain Sapnap had given you around your neck helping you to feel safe, even as the chorus girls cited the Phantom for the cause of all the distress.

Now you were back in your dressing room, getting ready for dinner with Sapnap.

“Wander child, so lost, so helpless,” A soft voice seemed to drift down from no where, “Yearning for my guidance.”

You looked up at the ceiling, “angel or father? Friend or phantom? Who is it their staring?”

“Have you forgotten your angel?” The voice murmured, Dream appearing once again in your mirror.

You turned to him, almost in a trance, “angel, oh, speak, what endless longings, echo in this whisper.”

Sapnap, having arrived to the opera house appeared in the door, watched as you moved toward the phantom.

“Too long you’ve wandered the winter...” Dream continued to sing, hand outstretched to you.

“Once again she is his.” Sapnap sang, as you started to cross the room toward the mirror where the phantom stood.

“...far from my far reaching eyes.”

“Wildly my mind beats against you....” You sang, transfixed.

Behind the mask Dream grinned, “You resist. Yet your soul obeys.”

“Once again she returns, to the arms of her angel. Angel or demon? Still he calls her, luring her back from the grave. Angel or dark seducer? Who are you strange angel?” Sapnap sang, again, more to himself than you or Dream.

Dream beckoned you forward again, “I am your angel of music, come to me angel of music!”

“Angel of darkness, cease this torment!” Sapnap exclaimed, moving into the room properly and drawing attention to himself.

Dream unbothered, continued to sing, “I am your angle of music! Come to me angel of music!”

“(y/n), (y/n) listen to me! Whatever you may believe- this thing, this man is not your father!” Sapnap yelled, “(y/n)! Let her go! For gods sake let her go!”

Jarred by his sudden yell, you turned, the trance broken, “Sapnap...”

Dream, unimpressed, began to clap, deadpanning, “Bravo monsieur. Such spirited words.”

“No more tricks monsieur!” Sapnap yelled, stepping forward to put himself between you and Dream.

“Oh, but that's not any fun. Why don’t you come closer, sir? Keep coming this way.”

Sapnap, not liking to be challenged, stepped forward, “You cannot win her love by holding her prisoner!”

“No- Sapnap don’t!” You grabbed his hand, pulling him back.

He nodded resolutely, gripping your hand as you both moved toward the door, “Lets go then, no more time will be spent with this monster.”

“Don’t go!” Dream wailed as you hurried away down the hall, “Now let it be war upon you both!”

Something was going wrong, of course it was, because when was it not?

Your entrance in Don Juan Triumphant had gone according to plan, but the man who had stepped out as Don Juan was not George, as it should have been.

You steeled yourself, trying to come up with a logical reason.

George must have gotten sick, and a stand in had taken his place, yes that must be it.

“Past the point of no return, no backward glances, the games we played till now, are at an end.” The man sang, “Past all thought of ‘if’ or ‘when’, no use resisting, abandon that thought and let the dream descend.”

Your panic seemed to rise, the double meaning in his words filling you with dread.

“What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire locks the door? What sweet seduction lies before is? Past the point of no return, the final thread hold. What unspoken secrets will we learn? Beyond the point of no return.”

You moved carefully to your next mark, trying to work out who it was in George’s place, “You have brought me, to the moment when words run dry, to the moment when speech disappears into silence, silence.

I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why, in my mind I already imagined, our bodies entwined. Defenseless and silent, now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I’ve decided, decided.”

You just barley stopped from trembling as you realized, it was Dream, “Past the point of no return, no going back now. Our passion play has now, at last, begun. Past all thought of right and wrong. One final question: how long should we two wait, before we’re one?”

“When will the blood being to race? When will the sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?” You finished, taking an only slightly shaky breath.

The phantom grabbed your hand as you both sang, “Past the point of no return, the final threshold. The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn, we’ve past the point of no return!”

Everyone in the audience seemed to hold their breath, they too knew that this was not George. The cloak that had hidden Dreams mask fell, and they gasped upon seeing the plaster smiling face.

He grinned behind the mask, and punctuated, “Say you’ll share with me, one love, one lifetimes lead me, save me from my solitude.”

The words stung even before he pulled out a ring, holding it out to you, “come with me, or this whole place will come down upon us.”

Slowly you looked to the audience, Sapnap was standing in the isle, looking worried.

You couldn’t let him get hurt.

You nodded reluctantly, as he continued, “say you want me by your side anywhere you go let me go too, (y/n) that’s all I ask of-“

Slowly, you reached up, pulling the mask off his face, revealing the terribly scared face to the world.

The gasps turned into horrible screams as a curtain was raised, and Georges body tumbled onto the stage.

Almost immediately Dream flung his cloak around you, disappearing.

Sapnap ran up onto the stage, along with the crew, police officers and other patrons.

“Sapnap! Sapnap you’ve got to come with me!” Eret cried, rushing out onto the stage.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Sapnap!” They yelled again, “I know where they are!”

“But can I trust you?” He demanded.

She nodded, “yes, and remember, keep your hand up at eye level.”

“Why?”

“Punjab lasso.” Was all he offered in explication as he led Sapnap away.

Soon enough Sapnap was creeping through the shadows of the phantoms layer, watching as he tried to place a wedding veil on your head, “Too bad pity comes to late, turn around and face your fate, an entirety of this before your eyes!”

You turn to face him, looking up at the mess of scares that cover his face, “this haunted face holds no horror for me now, it is in your soul that the true distortion lies.”

The phantom turned suddenly, to Sapnaps hiding place, “Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest! Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight! I had rather hoped that you would come And now my wish comes true— you have truly made my night!”

“Free her!” Sapnap yelled, stepping into the light, “do what you want to me but let her go!”

“Your lover makes a passionate plea.” Dream laughed at you.

“Sapnap it’s useless!” You cried.

Sapnap shook his head, “I love her! Does that mean anything To you? I love her! Show some compassion!”

“The world showed no compassion to me!” Dream retorted.

He reached out toward you, “(y/n), (y/n), please let me see her!”

Dream grinned maliciously, “be my guest.”

Sapnap rushed forwards, as Dream contiued to taunt, “Monsuier, i bid you welcome, did you think that I would hurt her? Why should I make her pay, for the sins which are yours?”

As he finished the last words the Punjab lasso came sailing out, and Sapnap barley had time to fling his arm back up as he was dragged back, the only thing keeping him from hanging being the fingers he’d wrangled between the rope and his neck.

“No!” You cried, struggling to your feet.

“Order your fine horses now!” Dream yelled, “Nothing now can save you, except maybe... (y/n).”

You stood, shaking as he turned to you, “Start a new life with me- buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me now and send your lover to his death! This is the choice, this is the point of no return!”

“(y/n), forgive me, please forgive me, I did it all for you, and all for nothing.” Sapnap sang, looking at you desperately.

At the same time you turned toward Dream, “Farewell my fallen idol, and my false friend, one by one my delusions shattered.”

“Too late for turning back, too late for prayers and useless pity!” Dream sang.

“{all hope of cries for help, no point in fighting!} (say you love and my life is over, either way you choose, he has to win!) {for ether way you choose, you cannot win! So do you end your days with me or do you send him to his grave?}”

“Why make her lie to you, to save me?” Sapnap yelled.

You looked between them desperately, “Angel of music..... {past the point of no return!} (For pity’s sake (y/n) say no! Don’t throw your life away for my sake!) Who deserves this? When will you see reason? {The Final threshold! His life is now the prize you must earn! You’ve passed the point of no return....}”

You looked at Dream, no longer trying to hide the fear that coursed through your veins, “Angel of music, you have deceived me, I gave myself blindly to you.”

“You try my patience! Make your choice!” Dream yelled.

Looking back at sapnap for a moment you stepped forward, whatever it would take, you would keep him safe, “Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone.”

Reaching out, you took the mask from his hand, tossing it to the side as he moved closer to you as well.

Before you could hardly blink he was kissing you, and with little more than a second thought you kissed back.

Sapnap watched, in partials horror, until the phantom drew back, shaking as he whispered, “No one has ever kissed me- not even my own mother.”

You nodded, and then suddenly Dream began to move across the room, grabbing a knife from somewhere as he stalked up to Sapnap.

He paused for a beat, and you could feel the terror in the room- until he slashed at the rope, and Sapnap fell the ground.

You rushed over to him, kneeling beside him, “Sapnap! oh Sapnap!”

“Take her,” dream wailed, “Take her and forget me, forget all of this! Leave me alone- forget all you’ve seen....”

Sapnap struggled to his feet, holding you close to him as he backed towards the channel.

“Take the boat, leave me here, go now, please!”

The sounds of the mob looking for Georges murderer seemed to grow louder as they grew closer.

“Hurry! Now before its too late!” Dream yelled.

Sapnap hurriedly started to help you into the boat, but you pulled away, moving back to the Phantom, long enough to hand him the ring.

Then you were off, turning to Sapnap as the current carried the boat away, “I’m sorry Sapnap- I couldn’t let him hurt you- I couldn’t!”

“Shhh. It’s alright (y/n), it’s alright. He can’t hurt you anymore.” He murmured, pulling you into his arms.

“Say you’ll share with me, one love one lifetime.” You sang shakily.

Sapnap nodded, “Say the word and I’ll follow you.”

“Share each day with me, each night, each morning...” The sounds of your voices traveled back up the tunnel for Dream to hear.

He sighed, looking resolutly into the distance, “You alone can make my song take flight- It’s over now, the music of the night!”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #dreamwastaken x reader #sapnap x reader #phantom of the opera #teddy06 writes

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immortalcoelacanth · 3 years

Text

Between the Walls, Chapter 3: To Earn His Keep (Dream SMP fic)

*hits table*

I have so many wips, why is my muse just like this?

Word count: 5313

Summary: Jobs are assigned and questions are asked as to why the hell Tommy and Techno are still putting up with one another.

Tommy had been confused as to what Techno meant by him having to work to earn the right to stay in his house. What work could he possibly do that would benefit him?! He couldn’t chop wood, or mine any precious resources. Crafting was also out of the question since he could only make things that were good for someone his size, so that left…

Nothing.

There was nothing he could do. There was no possible job that would suit him that Techno would benefit from, so he honestly had no idea what would come of the deal they had made. Perhaps nothing at all, and he would be allowed

Yeah right, as if he had ever been that lucky.

“TECHNOBLAAAAAADE! YOU FUCKING DICKHEAD!” Tommy howled as he clutched the wooden bars of the makeshift cage he was in. It was practically a repurposed box, the gap between the bars being too slim for the borrower to slip through, but even if they were big enough, he wouldn’t dare escape.

Primarily because of the large pit of groaning mods below him.

Apparently, the “work” Techno had planned for him was nothing more than him acting as bait for a basic mob farm. He was suspended above a pit, his cage attached to a wooden outcropping, and the faint glowing of the strange, red and orange cubes below him allowed him to easily see the hoard of zombies, skeletons, and the occasional creeper milling about.

He glanced back at the house and scowled, knowing Techno was probably sitting inside, all safe and warm. The cage barely blocked out any of the freezing winds, and since Tommy hadn’t been able to grab a jacket before being put out here, there was nothing to protect him from the cold. He was stuck, freezing and yelling at the top of his lungs.

Damn that stupid pig-

… Or hybrid.

It was a term the borrower was vaguely familiar with, he had been eavesdropping when one of the farmers back in Borrowton mentioned “hybrid plants” and how useful they could be. From what he knew, hybrids were like a sort of mixture, two different things being used to make one. Two different plants producing a new one.

He guessed one of Techno’s parents really was a pig fucker.

Tommy snorted at the joke before shuddering in the brisk breeze, arms wrapping tightly around himself while he huddled up on the floor of the cage. It sucked, being out here with nothing but the mobs for company. At least when he had been with Techno, he’d been able to interact, to socialize. It was something that he had always craved, to be able to reach out and connect with people. Even Techno’s occasional barbs, jokes, and the anger he caused Tommy to feel was better than being stuck outside.

Bastard, going from acting like he wanted to protect him to sticking him out here.

… Speaking of which, it had been very strange to witness that exchange. See the way that Techno hesitated to reveal his presence, and the fact that he had tried to hide Tommy further after the librarian made it aware that he knew the borrower was there. Some part of him had cheered, recognizing that maybe the pig-hybrid actually cared about him in some way, even though they had only known one another for about a day, but Techno’s actions earlier-

“What’re you making?” Tommy hesitantly asked as tried to stare at the crafting table. He had basically been told, ordered, to wait on the table while Techno finished whatever it was that he was making. Not wanting to anger the pigman, he had reluctantly done his best to stay in place.

Fidgeting the entire time, of course. Staying put had never been his strong suit.

“Just something to help with your new job.” Techno explained before turning around and showing off the cage he had made. “Gonna make things a lot easier.”

“... What’re you gonna put in it, then?” Tommy questioned, not at all liking where this was going. Of course, the answer he got was one he had expected, but still never wanted to hear.

“You, duh.”

Techno grinned, and Tommy felt his heart drop.

“You’re gonna be the bait.”

Had obliterated the small sparks of that hope. Techno didn’t care about him and only saw him as a means to an end. Probably why he got so huffy when that other guy noticed him. Clearly no one was allowed to mess with or torment Tommy unless it was Techno himself-

Twang!

The borrower let out a startled yelp as an arrow slammed into the side of his cage, making it rock and sway. He scrambled to the side of the enclosure and tried to spot what had shot at him. His eyes scanned the empty yard, briefly landing on the empty stall that Techno must have built for some reason. It was weird to just have that structure sitting there, all empty and ready for some animal to inhabit it-

There!

Tommy shook himself out of his thoughts as he spotted the source of the arrow. A lone skeleton that had, somehow, not stumbled over and fallen into the pit, was aiming at him, bow drawn and another arrow pointed in his direction. He immediately backpedaled, arms flailing as the newest arrow was released, just barely missing the cage.

Shit, shit!

“Fuck off you stupid bitch!” Tommy howled as the skeleton readied another arrow. As it was aimed at him, his panic and the pitch of his voice increased until he was practically shrieking. “FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU-”

Twang!

Another arrow slammed into the skeleton’s skull, bone shattering and turning to dust. The monster dropped to the ground, the fallen bow and arrows the only sign of it ever having been there, and he quickly looked over at what, or who, had shot the arrow.

Technoblade.

Of course.

“Couldn’t have shown up any sooner, you bitch?!” He shouted, internally cringing when those too bright, red eyes landed on him. He watched as the hybrid rested the crossbow he had used to kill the skeleton on his shoulder before making his way over to the wooden post. He glared down at Techno, more than aware of how not intimidating he looked as he shuddered in the cold. Although, his glare lightened up when he was finally removed from the post, less exposed to the winds as he was unintentionally sheltered by the hybrid’s body.

“I was just testing a hypothesis I had.” Techno simply responded. The borrower waited to see if he would elaborate on what that meant. A moment passed, then two, and then-

“Well tell me then! You don’t need to act so secretive!”

That tiny, near invisible smile on Techno’s face grew as he started to speak. “A hypothesis on whether your voice is annoying enough to instantly agro mobs, and it is from the looks of it. Congratulations-”

“Wh-you bitch!” Tommy sputtered as he raged and pointed aggressively at the amused hybrid. “I have the voice of an angel! It’s not annoying!”

As if trying to prove Techno’s point, and in turn prove the borrower wrong, another arrow was launched at the duo. Techno easily dodged it, hardly sparing a glance at the new skeleton as he returned fire and took it down, while Tommy was jostled about thanks to the sudden movement. He just barely managed to stop himself from smacking his head against the wooden bars, and that scowl on his face grew deeper.

For some reason, Techno possessed the uncanny ability to infuriate Tommy no matter what he did. Whether it was his occasionally smug, know-it-all attitude or how obtuse he could be at times, there was just something about him that never failed to upset the borrower.

… Not that he would ever tell him, of course.

Of course, his general unease and anxiety towards this new situation did not help in the slightest, leaving him on edge and ready to snap when something potentially bad happened. It was a miracle he had not been killed yet, and he quietly wondered how much longer his luck would last.

Not that such a thought would stop him from acting like how he typically did.

So, as was in his nature, Tommy immediately started shouting and cursing once more. “And why the fuck did you stick me up there for so long, anyways?! It was freezing up there-”

“You wanna go for round two?” Techno interrupted, lifting the cage up so Tommy could easily see the wooden post he had been hanging from. Immediately, the borrower backed up and started shaking his head.

“No! No, c’mon man! I was just teasing you!” He backpedaled. “Just a little joke, I swear!”

“The only joke here is your accidental pun.” Techno quipped, his smile growing as he watched realization, and then horror, cross Tommy’s face.

“Listen! It’s-it’s a crime to make jokes about me being small, because I’m not! Absolutely criminal!”

Techno let out another chuckle as he shut the door behind him and made his way towards the table. “It’s a good thing I don’t follow laws, then.”

Tommy didn’t dare ask what that meant.

Fortunately, a distraction soon appeared in the form of the cage being set down on the table, followed by one of the sides being removed. He quickly jumped out once there was enough room for him to move, stumbling a bit over the lip of the cage before he straightened himself out.

He ignored the amused snort he heard from beside him, not at all looking at Techno, and instead chose to bask in the sensation of finally being indoors, even if he was still freezing. Tommy shuddered as he wrapped his arms around himself, doing his best to heat up after being exposed to the cold for however long he had been stuck outside. The roaring fireplace definitely helped to chase away some of the chill, and he found his eyes lingering on the large pot that had been added to the fireplace. The air smelled… nice, and it looked like Techno had decided to make soup for himself.

Strange, since he swore the hybrid’s diet consisted of nothing but steak and the occasional, weird sparkly apple.

God, he’d been dying to bite into one of those and see what they tasted like…

He jumped in surprise as Techno placed a small, obviously handmade, wooden bowl filled with soup on the table. Curious, he slowly walked over and checked it out. It was still a bit too large for him to use, he’d probably drown himself if he tried to drink straight from it, but it was definitely much more manageable for him to use.

“Is… is that for me?”

The hybrid just nodded as he got himself his own bowl of soup. As such, he was unaware of how Tommy’s jaw dropped in pure shock, as he carefully traced the side of the bowl. The guy who’d spent the last twenty four hours tormenting him had made something for him, made something that would make his life easier!

He hadn’t been given any cutlery when he’d been kicked out of Borrowton, all he had were some basic tools and rations of food. The absolute bare necessities. And, instead of letting him suffer and search for something he could use, Techno had made it using his own two hands.

It dawned on him, in some strange, iconic twist of fate that he had unintentionally helped Tommy out more than his own people had. Invested more care into making sure he didn’t just survive, but was also comfortable.

… And not spilling soup all over the place-

Regardless, it was one of the last things he would have ever expected from Techno, and he quietly wondered if the hybrid had been working on the bowl while he had been stuck outside. Was this…

A reward?

Tommy’s breathing hitched and he quickly wiped his eyes before any of the budding tears could fall, idiot, crying over something as stupid as a bowl. By the time he had gotten his emotions under control, Techno had looked over to find him just staring at the bowl, appearing to be doing nothing.

“Did you expect me to spoon feed you or something?” He chuckled, waiting for Tommy to respond. When the borrower said nothing, his smile faded. “Bruh-”

“Don’t look at me like that!” Tommy objected, nearly knocking the bowl over as he turned his attention to Techno. “I’m just surprised! Big, bad, Blade making a bowl, never thought I’d see the day. Guess you’ve got little dainty girl hands for that!”

Techno rolled his eyes as the borrower continued rambling, tuning him out as he went about his supposedly dainty hands, and questions about if he made bird houses in his spare time. Eventually, Tommy got that he was done interacting, and the duo focused on their respective meals, with the borrower burning his tongue in his haste to try the soup.

“Fuck.” He hissed, waving a hand over the bowl to help it cool down as he cringed in pain. After waiting for the burning sensation to fade, as well as checking to see whether the soup had cooled down enough, he carefully tried again.

As he slowly sipped away at his soup, he watched as Techno made his way over to a chair, picking up the book that had been placed on it, as well as putting on his reading glasses. They were surprisingly worn, primarily held together by tape, and just barely managed to stay on the hybrid’s face as he sat down and cracked open the book. He then quickly realized that the book was the one he had gotten from the librarian.

The one about borrowers.

He felt… weird knowing someone was basically researching him, studying up on the supposed myths about his kind, and wondered to himself when he would get interrogated. Would Borrowton be mentioned in that book, or one of the other settlements? Tommy had never visited them, but he knew they were out there.

Knew about the rumours of the secret tracks that had supposedly connected each settlement to one another and was used to ship goods back and forth. He and Tubbo had tried searching for them one day and had only wound up with bruises and a stern scolding from the adult borrowers, telling them it was foolish to believe in made up stories.

But he never listened. Those tracks were there, had to be there. He and Tubbo had spent so many nights dreaming of how they’d get away, racing down the rails in a minecart. The angry yells and shouts fading as they raced off into their newest adventure.

They had planned to find a home using those rails.

And they would, Tommy promised himself as he grit his teeth. They would go on that adventure, they would find a home. He would get back to Tubbo, no matter what. All he needed was to figure out how to get back to Borrowton, and perhaps snag some supplies from Techno when he wasn’t looking.

… Maybe that book would come in handy after all.

Not that he had any hope in hell of stealing it, or even really reading it since the book was considerably larger than him, but it was the only chance he had at figuring out where Borrowton was and how he might get there.

It was ironic, to think he had spent so long dreaming about getting away from that hellhole and then ending up stuck in a situation where he needed to do everything he could to get back.

All in the name of Tubbo, of course.

He’d rather spend the rest of his life stuck with the annoying prick known as Technoblade instead of going back to Borrowton if it weren’t for Tubbo.

… He did need a proper plan, though. He had to survive, figure out how to escape the hellish tundra he was in, get supplies for his journey which would probably last several days, and figure out what path he needed to take to reach Borrowton. Plus he’d need to figure out how to sneak in and find Tubbo, too.

So many things… did he even have a chance at completing them all? He could easily freeze to death in the snow, get mauled by some monster, starve, get lost and never reach his destination-

Don’t think about it.

He let out a sigh and placed the bowl down, distantly noticing he had finished his soup. It was nice, tasted like potatoes and something else. Unconsciously, he started rubbing his thumb against the smooth rim of the wooden bowl. All in all, being exiled wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it was going to be, aside from him missing Tubbo of course. Techno was a bastard, a prick through and through, but he was surprisingly…

Nice wasn’t the word. Less cruel than he thought he would be? He thought back to the discussion with that nerdy librarian and let out a snort. Borrowers and hybrids working together, living together, sounded like a load of crap.

… Even if he was technically doing that just now.

But it wasn’t like there was some mystical force making them act all soft! Like… like they were best friends or something! He and Techno weren’t buddies or allies, they were just stuck together until either Techno got tired of him and kicked him out, or he left.

Nothing more, nothing less.

With both his meal and mental contemplation finished, he stood up and made his way over to the edge of the table, attaching his grappling hook to the end and throwing the rope over the side. He didn’t bother to check on what Techno was doing as he slid down, bowl carefully pinned between his arm and his body, and felt no need to tell the hybrid he was leaving. The last thing he wanted was to piss him off or something.

As he made his way over to the hole in the floor that would lead to his home, he was unaware of the contemplative, glowing red eyes that followed him. Nor did he see how those eyes narrowed as they landed on the bowl he was still carrying.

The next day, Tommy jolted awake as the sound of knocking reverberated through the hollow he lived in. He yelped in surprise and promptly tumbled out of his makeshift bed, a pile of wool and other fabric he had managed to steal from Techno. For a moment he stayed on the floor, looking up at the carved ceiling as he contemplated whether it was worth it to get up or not.

The more trust you gain, the more you can get away with. Work. Take what you can. Find a way back to Tubbo-

Yup, that was enough motivation to get him moving.

Slowly, he pushed himself upright and got ready for whatever Techno had planned for the day. Since it was morning he doubted he’d be acting as bait again, nor did he think he would have to deal with any mobs. Perhaps he would get a chance to relax?

Maybe he might be able to scope out some of the more valuable items Techno had that could help him since he didn’t have to worry about sneaking around as much. Or he could always try and check that book out and see if he could actually move the pages enough to read it.

But before he could even consider doing that, he had to figure out what Techno wanted from him.

It didn’t take long for him to finish freshening up, and soon enough he was quickly making his way back through the tunnels towards one of the few exits he had made. Fortunately, the section of the tunnel that Techno had damaged had been replaced.

Of course, the hybrid had left it up to Tommy to actually carve out the replacement tunnel, which left the whole system feeling pretty disconnected since the walls no longer lined up.

The prick.

Eventually he made his way out of the tunnel, climbed out of the hole in the floor, and walked out into the open. Instinctively he shuddered, hating how exposed he felt. This feeling only increased as he felt the ground shake with each of Techno’s steps. In no time at all, he found himself in the hybrid’s shadow once more, reminded of just how vulnerable he was.

He hated it, hated it so damn much, but he did his best to swallow his fears and not retreat back into the comforting shadows of the shelf.

“So, what’s the plan for today, big man?” Tommy asked, rocking back and forth in place as he stared up, and up, and up, at the hybrid. Damn Techno and his stupid tallness, making his neck hurt with how far up he had to look.

He let out a startled yelp when he was picked up, the back of his shirt pinched yet again as he was moved from the ground and carried over to the crafting table. It took all of his willpower to stop himself from struggling, lest he was dropped, and he felt no small amount of relief when he was put down.

“The fuck was that for?!”

“I didn’t feel like watching you fumble with a rope.”

“Fumble?” Tommy scoffed and flexed his arms. “There ain’t no fumblin’ with manly muscles like these-”

“Are they just for show or do you actually know how to use them, then?”

Well that question definitely caught him off guard. The borrower paused, momentarily uncertain as to how to respond, before he that cocky smile appeared on his face once again. “I’ve won plenty of fights with these bad boys-”

“Great.” He didn’t miss the way Techno rolled his eyes, nor did he miss the heavy sarcasm that laced his voice. “Try this out.”

The item that the hybrid nudged over was… surprising to say the least.

“It’s… a stick.” Tommy blinked as he picked the stick up and looked it over. It was a bit longer than the length of his forearm, and if it weren’t for the lack of a sharpened end he would have assumed it was just a toothpick. “You gave me a stick.”

“It’s for practice, I’m not gonna give you a sharpened one and watch you trip and stab yourself with it.”

“I wouldn’t-practice?” All the anger Tommy felt at the implication of being a clutz, which he absolutely was not, evaporated as what Techno was saying registered. “For what?!”

“Self defense.” Techno shrugged. Upon taking note of the aghast expression on Tommy’s face, he elaborated further. “Not everyone you meet is gonna be as nice as me.”

Especially if I need you to spy on L’Manberg.

“Yeah, like you’re just the shining beacon of goodness.” Tommy scoffed while rolling his eyes.

“Beacon? Paragon has more impact to it. You really need to work on that lexicon of yours, kid-”

“And there you go makin’ up words again! Paragon! Lexicon! What’s the next word you’re gonna make up? Ontological?”

“... Tommy, that is a word.”

“Your mum’s a word, and that word is bitch!”

“Are you going to keep throwing a tantrum over the tiny dictionary you call a brain, or are you actually going to listen to me?”

Tommy grumbled and kicked at the ground before sighing and looking up at the hybrid. It was time for him to pay attention, no matter how reluctant he was about this whole practicing thing. “Yeah, so what should I practice, huh?”

“Stabbing me.”

A burst of high pitched, somewhat hysterical laughter escaped the borrower upon hearing Techno’s deadpan response. He slapped a hand over his mouth as he struggled to control his response, not wanting to piss him off further.

What a weird day this was turning out to be.

“You want me… to poke your hand? What the fuck, man.”

“Are you planning on just asking questions or are you going to use those manly muscles of yours?” The narrowing of Techno’s eyes combined with the immense amount of sass in that question told Tommy that his patience was running thin. The borrower quickly nodded and took a step forward.

As the hybrid’s hand stretched out in front of him, fingers uncurling and palm facing upwards, Tommy quietly realized this was the best look at Techno he had ever gotten. Previously, he had only ever really processed snapshots of the hybrid. The long braid, the glowing eyes, the sharp tusks that seemed to shine in the light, everything had only ever been pieces and not the whole.

But now here he was, and his situation felt far more real than it had before.

He could feel the heat radiating off Techno, the natural warmth his body produced reminding Tommy of the furnace he would huddle next to with Tubbo when the weather grew too cold. He could see the scars that littered the hand in front of him, and the callouses that covered the palm and fingers. He could also see the nails, dark in colouration and dangerously sharp, that tipped each digit.

He had been wrong about Techno having dainty hands, and for some reason this realization only made his appreciation for the gift he had been given grow stronger. It was so easy to imagine the hybrid hunched over with a tiny block of wood held in his hands, struggling to carve it and muttering curses when it accidentally broke. How long had he spent working on it-

“Tommy.”

Shit, he’d zoned out.

He could practically feel Techno’s eyes narrowing in disgruntlement, and he immediately looked up and threw his hands into the air in exasperation, nearly conking himself on the head with the stick in the process. “Don’t give me that look! It’s all so… so weird!”

Weird to be doing this! To be so close to someone who could kill me! It’s all wrong!

And yet, it felt right in its own way. The weight of the makeshift weapon in his hands, and the part of him that longed for some shield to hold up. Tommy had always been a fighter, using dirty tricks to get out of dangerous situations while quite literally throwing hands with anyone who threatened him or Tubbo, but this was another kind of fighting entirely.

A style that felt both familiar and alien at the same time.

The hybrid, choosing to not engage with the turmoil visible on the borrower’s face, decided switch tactics. Demonstrations would happen later when he was more settled and less likely to break down in borderline hysterical laughter, the time for basics was now.

For the next several minutes, Techno explained where it was best to attack in order to do the most damage and even disable his opponent for a short period of time. He was… strangely calm, and knowledgeable as he pointed out which parts of his hand were softer than the rest, more vulnerable.

It was unexpected, and Tommy could only ask himself one question.

Why?

Of course, he got no answer, not that he had ever asked the question to begin with. Rather, he just threw himself into practicing the maneuvers he had been shown over and over again, quietly thinking about how helpful they might be.

Tubbo, he might have to fight to get to Tubbo, and if practicing whatever Technoblade taught him would help, he’d do it.

Meanwhile, the hybrid silently studied the borrower as he thought about all that he had learned so far, from the book to his general observations of the kid. There was obviously something else going on with him, from the way he randomly spaced out at times, to that determined look that would sometimes appear on his face. Anger would occasionally appear, too. A kind of anger that Techno was intimately familiar with.

Tommy was expressive, too expressive.

At least that made things easier for him, but it also left him with far more questions than answers. Questions he didn’t really want to ask, but was still curious about.

It was obvious that the borrower had lived somewhere else before he had decided to invade his cabin. According to the book, most borrowers either stuck to a house they stayed in for their entire lives unless they were forced to move, or lived in community settlements. There were also the “wild” ones, but Tommy’s clear lack of any self-preservation instincts made it clear he did not fit in that category, and yet both of the remaining options made little sense as well.

There were no nearby houses nearby that he could have previously lived in, he doubted the kid would have been living in the village without the librarian’s knowledge, and a tundra biome was one of the last places he would expect to encounter a settle of tiny people. So, what had happened that wound up with him being out here in the first place? And why did he care so much?

Ah, the greatest question of all.

Why?

Why was he putting so much effort into this obnoxious kid? Sure he had his reasons, but were those reasons enough to justify the work he was going to have to do. Why had he let Tommy stay instead of throwing him out like he would have done to anyone else, aside from Phil.

Why had he gotten so protective of the kid at the library? It didn’t make sense-

“Look Techno!”

Tommy’s shout snapped Techno out of his thoughts, and the hybrid looked over to see that he was now holding one of the other practice sticks. He grinned and enthusiastically waved them.

“I’ve got two sticks!”

He raised a brow as the borrower started hitting some made up enemy, swinging the sticks through the air and letting out noises that he probably thought were intimidating, but only made Techno quietly laugh to himself. His laughter grew louder when, during one of his more enthusiastic swings, Tommy ended up smacking himself in the face.

“You’re supposed to hit other people with those.”

“Oh fuck off!”

Hours later, Tommy let out a groan as he flopped into his makeshift bed, burying his face into one of the pieces of fabric. The cloth was cool and soft, and he let out a happy little sigh as it helped him cool down. His muscles ached, and he wanted nothing more than to pass out for the next couple days, but his mind was abuzz with thoughts.

Techno was teaching him how to fight and was apparently making him armor. It sounded like such a horrible idea, teaching the person who was practically a pest in your house how to fight back, and it made Tommy wonder why.

Why was he being taught how to fight? Why was he being given weapons and armor? Was there something he needed to keep himself safe from? Someone?

“It’s a good thing I don’t follow laws, then.”

The hybrid’s “retirement”. The amount of weapons and armor Tommy had seen. The potions.

Was… was Techno a criminal? Had he unintentionally put himself in more danger by choosing to stay here? He knew nothing about him other than his dry sense of humour, his aloof personality, and how intimidating he was.

Dammit, this is why he needed Tubbo. Tubbo would have warned him about the possible dangers, discouraged his ideas, and brought reason to his chaotic thoughts.

It was at this moment that Tommy also realized that among the training and sparse breaks, he hadn’t been able to check out the book either.

Fuck.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ah yes, the slow development from “you’re a pain in my ass and I’m only putting up with you for personal gain” to “okay, you might be decent”.

Also, there are many things I'm gonna make Tommy kind of cry over. A bowl of soup is just one of the more out there instances XD

#my story #fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp fic #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois inc fic #borrower au #dsmp tommy #dsmp techno #borrower!tommy

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jeyusos-girl · 4 years

Text

Tell Them

pairing: Bishop x OC

summary: Bishop’s younger girlfriend shows up at the clubhouse, but the guys don’t know about her.

a/n: i wrote this while at work and i still managed to get my shit done 😝😝 im happy with how this came out

warnings: none

word count: 1184

..................................................

Samantha stood in front of her mirror, applying her mascara. She put the wand back in the tube and set it down. She fluffed her curls and smirked to herself.

“He is going to freak out,” she giggled, fixing her shirt.

She woke up in bed alone today, Bishop had left early in the morning for club business. This was the 5th day this week that happened and she was getting fed up. As she was eating her breakfast an idea came to mind, she was going to pay him a visit today. The catch? None of the guys knew she existed.

When she and Bishop started dating six and a half months ago, he told her about the club, but he didn't go into detail until about the third month. From then on she’d been begging him to bring her to the clubhouse to meet the rest of the guys. He always shut her down, saying something about him keeping her safe.

In the back of her mind, she knew that his reasoning was only half the truth. After all, she was younger than him and she knew he would always be a little insecure about that. She’s told him countless times that age didn’t mean anything to her and that she loves him no matter what. But still, he always gave her a sweet kiss and assured her she’d meet the guys soon. Of course, soon never came. Until now that is.

She made her way to her car and hopped in, driving the short distance to the clubhouse. During her drive, she began having doubts, wondering if now was the right time. She was nervous that she wouldn’t be welcome, that they’d see her as an outsider. She was contemplating turning around and going back home but a little voice in her head told her it was now or never.

“Come on, Samantha, you got this, ” she took a deep breath as the clubhouse came into view. The front gates were open, so she drove through and parked next to a row of bikes. She flipped the overhead mirror down and fluffed her hair once more.

”Alright girl, you can do it. They're gonna love you,”

She got out of the car, slamming the door behind her. The noise caught the attention of three men outside who were working on fixing bikes. She looked around the yard, hoping to find Bishop. The men huddled together and pointed at her and soon one of them stood up and made his way over. He was tall with dark hair, tattoos covering his arms. He wore a red flannel under his kutte. As he came into her view she could see the slight smirk on his face.

“Hey mami, you lost?” he spoke.

“Uh no, I’m actually looking for someone,” Samantha replied.

“Well whoever he is, I’m sure he wouldn’t be anywhere near here. But forget him, how about me and you get to know each other,” he moved closer to her, and she raised her brows at him. Before she could shut him down, the doors to the clubhouse opened revealing three more men, an older man with long hair, a tall buff man with short black hair, and Bishop. She smiled as she saw him laughing with the other two. That smile turned to a smirk when he made eye contact with her and froze in surprise.

“You good, ‘mano?” the older man with long hair asked. Bishop cleared his throat, giving him a nervous laugh,

“Yeah, I’m good,” and with that, he made his way down the steps and toward Samantha who’s smile never went away. He got closer to her and gently pulled her aside, aware of the eyes and ears on them.

“Querida, what are you doing here?” he whispered, laughing nervously.

“Well,” she started, putting on an act of innocence, “I woke up today alone, for the 5th day in a row by the way, and I missed my man. So I figured I’d pay you a visit, surely you don’t mind… right?” she smiled sweetly, batting her lashes. Bishop gaped at her,

“No uh.. of course not but I thought we agreed I would bring you around the club when the time was right,”

“Well, I decided the right time is now,” Samantha tilted her head at him and raised a brow, “It’s been almost 7 months Obispo, I’m tired of being your little secret. God forbid something happens on a run and you get hurt, how will I know? They can’t call me and tell me if they don’t know I exist,”

Bishop sighed, “You’re right, I’m sorry mama. I just wanna keep you away from all this shit, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got hurt,”

Samantha could see the hurt in his eyes.

“Baby, I’ve never felt safer than I have these past six and a half months,”

Bishop gave her a small smile and as he went to speak, a voice sounded off in the background,

“Yo, Bish, you know her?” the guy from earlier questioned. Bishop turned to face him.

“Tell them,” she smirked. Bishop looked at her, shaking his head with a big smile.

“Yeah. Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Samantha,”

It got quiet as their mouths dropped slightly, Samantha held back a giggle as she came up next to Bishop and wrapped her arm around his torso.

“Hello everyone,” Samantha grinned.

“Welcome, Samantha.” the long-haired man smiled. One by one the guys came up to her and introduced themselves and she felt Bishop relax.

“Damn, Bish, where have you been hiding her?” the man, who she’d learned was named Angel, asked. Bishop glared at him, causing Angel to raise his hands in surrender.

“Aye, how about we welcome Samantha the right way?” Coco spoke. The guys all agreed and headed into the clubhouse. Bishop looked down at Samantha who was already looking up at him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman,” he shook his head as she giggled. He gave her a sweet kiss and led her inside.

Once inside, she met Creeper, Riz, and Ez. They all sat around each other while Ez served them drinks and they were engaging in friendly conversation. Samantha sat in Bishop’s lap laughing as she told them the story of how they met. She took a sip of her beer when Gilly spoke up,

“How come you hid her from us for so long?”

“I wanted her all to myself,” he shrugged and winked at Samantha who rolled her eyes playfully.

“Well she’s a part of this family now,” Tranq raised his beer, “a toast to Samantha and Bishop!”

The guys cheered and raised their glasses. Samantha shook her head as she did the same.

Soon the guys went back to telling stories and Bishop looked up at Samantha. She took another sip of her beer before she caught his eye.

“What?” she grinned.

“I love you, querida,”

Samantha leaned down, catching his lips in hers. They pulled away and stared into each other’s eyes before Samantha snuggled into his neck.

........................................................

@peaches007

@ifoundmyhappythought

@imanerdychubbyqueen

@ly--canthrope

@noz4a2

@thewarriorprincessxo

@calif0rnia-lovers

#mayans imagine #mayans fx #mayans mc #mayans x reader #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc x reader #mayans #bishop losa #bishop losa x oc #bishop losa x reader #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #bishop losa imagine

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perlen-gold · 3 years

Text

Tale of a Forest

Prompt: *Freebie* for @14daysdalovers

Pairing: M!Fenhawke

They seek refuge in the embrace of the tree.

The rain, decisive withal light, descended upon them at no notice.

In one moment, the forget-me-not-blue and snowdrop-white sky an exuberant brightness, in another handfuls of ashen-grey clouds were summoned by the wind to befall the lands with astonishing rains.

Fenris espied the riven tree first. Born from one root it stretches its triplet-trunks luxuriously like a three-fingered hand. Above, their crowns reach to rejoice again and, while still bereft of their leafy dress, numberless limbs entwine twistingly as if to warm each other. It stands alone, as if left behind by its comrades.

So they are hurrying towards it with quick steps, their rebounding feet falling lightly on the springy gras spraying larksome drops of rain every which way.

Between the three bough-branched, moss-matted trunks Hawke and Fenris shed their cloaks to put them up. If not drying they would at least provide a woolen canopy fending off most of the hoydenish rain. The wetness is not fancying itself a storm, yet prevents the toilsome start of a fire.

Under this they settle, Hawke leaning against the inner side of one of the three tilted trunks, and soon he reaches for Fenris who is still busy with the arrangements of their makeshift roof, dauntless rain drops tugging at the white strands of his hair, afly now and then in the welling wind. In one well-practiced, fluid motion Fenris sinks down on Hawke’s lap, his arms around his waist.

Thus huddled midst the three-faced tree they listen to the quiet weeping of the skies.

After a while, Hawke reclines his head and smiles, eyes aglitter. “You wish to continue our fight from earlier on?”

“I did not fight with you,” Fenris answers, “You did not yet know you were wrong.”

Roaring, Hawke throws back his head, his throat resonate with laughter. “They do not know where to go. They are refugees now.” he says after a moment, smiling appreciatively up at the man sitting in his lap, anticipating the game.

“Which did not prevent the man from attacking me with blood magic when we drew closer.” Fenris counters with arid readiness.

“I was assailed by the Templar first.” Hawke retorts slyly.

Fenris’ response is instantaneous and fast: “Whereas the blood mage attacked me behind my back.”

“Of course he did, you cannot expect the poor lad to attack you to your face.” Hawke replies, candid.

“I was bending down for some badges to help him.” Fenris indignantly snorts.

“Well,” Hawke continues with relishing insolence, “you forgot to shed your murder-face first.”

Slightly Fenris’ eyes narrow, pondering this for a time while leaning back. “He was trying, if only amateurishly, to use my blood, Hawke.”

“Yes, and that is very outrageous,” Hawke concedes in serious graveness, “but the boy was only sixteen and, I think, he was far too afraid to cut his own little finger.”

Fenris grimaces and therefore Hawke, sensing advantage, is quick to plunge on: “Whereas the Templar I was to try and talk out of threatening the poor boy – “

“You mocked her.” Fenris interjects dryly.

“ – whereas the Templar I was trying to jolly along”, Hawke insists, “with her sword nearly hew off my arm.” he ends with a gleeful triumph.

Head slanted, Fenris raises a dark, versatile eyebrow. “The Templar who was about eighty years? At least?”

“She was a very agile eighty-year-old.”

“She,” Fenris dissents with blithe stubbornness, “did not use blood magic.”

“Because she did not know how to. Neither did the boy.” Hawke explains mock-gravely.

“He meant to. Although I even smiled at him.” invokes Fenris displeased, his eyes an emerald conflagration.

“Baring your teeth at a mage is not smiling, Fenris. It is murder-face.” Then, as though adding an afterthought, Hawke impishly grins. “I, of all people, should know.”

At this the tension shatters and this time it is Fenris’ turn to give a low laugh, Hawke can feel it spiraling in his chest, a plumbless, youthful sound, his chesty voice vibrantly flying up to bead between hundreds of lucent drops of rain.

Gently, Hawke bows his head. Thus, Fenris forehead comes to rest upon his, their breaths mingling.

They listen again for the soft thuds and whispers of the rain.

After a while they kiss. Both hungry and savoring, a tender, silent game of questions and answers of lips. They graze each other’s skin, seek softly for familiar spots, a patch of rough skin, an unfamiliar and late bite, slightly swollen.

A little later Fenris and Hawke talk, dripping clouds lazily passing by, their voices quiet and clear to each other.

Hawke tells Fenris of his mother, the feel of her hard, rounded belly which he touched with young hands as a small boy, of his brother and sister, how they were born in the midnight blue middle of a storm-wrapped night, how he used to play hide-and-seek with tiny Carver and climbed ancient trees with little Bethany, and the fire the two of them once started, unwittingly, in his mother’s prized flower bed.

Hawke tells him stories of his childhood, stories of white-capped mountains which send their frigid howls down into snow-swirling dells in a Ferelden white, of forests so dark and mystical, moss-green and bark-brown, brimming with tales of walking trees and talking wolves hidden between shades of innumerable greens in short summer, every conceivable shade of white in winter. Lands, fields and streams still ruled by chilling winters and long-dead kings.

How did you survive, Fenris asks as the pads of his fingertips trace along the arcs of Hawke’s cheekbones and scrub against the defying black of his beard, in this threatening cold? What does a frozen sea look like, Hawke?

Hot meals, Fenris, long-burning, flame-red fires from crepitant logs and twigs during long nights, and warm, heavy furs like the wild men wear in the south.

Fenris, in turn, talks then of dense jungles and tangled vegetation, the unmatched feeling of overwhelmingness in opaque, dark, colossal jungles of towering trees, giant green leaves, spear-like sunrays that pierce the otherwise impenetrable green, smoothing darkness. Of tall stone pagodas overrun with twining vines. Of roaring cataract waterfalls amidst lushes of leafy, muggy forest pervading the sight, the sun a remote memory under the eclipsing canopy of virescent leaves, a luminous baldachin shrilly alive with all manner of cries, chatters, chirrups and sundry shrieks. Of a turquoise blue ocean which sheds its color to a cryptic midnight blue after sunset, leaving a taste of salt on skins. Of a stupefying onslaught of water, dripping, drenching, dousing during incessant rains permeating for weeks on end. Inbetween these onrushs the continual dripping of beads on ferns and creepers like a sheet of crystals, mixing up with the pervasive thin layer of sweat on the skin, adding to the moisture in the air. Of the everlasting, impermeable, out-reaching fog veiling warriors of egregious stealth and skill, who harbor but secrets of the origin of the legendary Griffons from the vast mountains tangy with cinnamon and nutmeg, a fragrance that weaves in and out of the luscious greenery of ferns. Here, Fenris pauses. Somewhat lost in reflection, contemplation. As always.

At first, this was difficult for Fenris.

Speaking. Talking. About good things, too. Things worth to remember.

Testing the power of your tongue. Letting your voice fly out of your chest and settle somewhere within another heart.

Letting lose things, of birds and beasts, flowers and thorns, things you are not sure you dare to examine yourself, things that bear both blossoms and poison. Power indwelling and evoked in both. And by letting them lose, that power transfers into the listener.

So Hawke started it. By letting fly small stories. Kirkwall, the first year he lived there, Ferelden, his hometown Lothering. Short tales that grew larger eventually, as Fenris tried, hesitantly, warily, distrustfully the power of his own voice. Hitherto he had spoken, oh yes, words burst forth from within by runaway emotions, unbridled, only to be shackled again and frowned upon afterwards. So, with incredible difficulty, tentatively, cautiously, with a lot of faltering and long considering pauses between words while Hawke listened to him in silence, Fenris tried.

What does a white beach look like, asks Hawke, rubbing Fenris’ arm lightly as his quiet stretches on, how does a warm sea leaping at your naked toes feel like? How does it taste, the moist sky and jungle air?

And Fenris tells Hawke, under the shelter of softly padding rain drops, of ensanguined beaches and mossy ground trembling under the everlasting combat of Tevinter soldiers and Qunari warriors. Fenris tells, his voice clear and quiet, after great consideration, also of Minrathous, a city of marvels and terrors alike. Of how he endured nights of stomach-punching, mind-dulling hunger in a palatial, marble-pillared place brimming with food, of nights filled with the heart-pounding, ceaseless listening for hunting pursuers, of the guilt and pleasure of stolen crumbs of bread over a dead body.

There are stories, yes, stories Fenris does not talk about which Hawke hears in the mute, overpowering echo of his silence. Stories Hawke both fears and yearns for.

Therefore, Hawke talks of his father.

The tickle and scratchiness of his father’s ebony beard under his boyish fingers The way his mouth curved, sagged and arched into infectious grins. The reverberation of his resonating laughter when no one else would laugh but anyone be provoked into it by his quiet smile in a fuliginous hut. . The smell of tender arms. Of his father taking him for walks by hours on end into the winding forests, teaching him magic, pure simple magic, and considerably more. His father whom Hawke invariably, ineradicably venerated and revered, a man of such kindness and protectiveness that he would help anyone who stumbled across his path. A man of unparalleled strength of will who wielded his magic before Hawke’s admiring boyish eyes with skill unrivaled, a man who seemed not to draw magic from the elements but rather be flooded by it from nature itself, while Fenris’ gaze lingers upon Hawke’s features with a softening, gentle expression whereas Hawke’s voice deliquesces to a throaty hoarseness.

Thus, a forest of stories arises, familiar ones they have shared many times before to one another so that they sound like lullabies from forgotten childhood days to either Fenris or Hawke. A forest grows of stories which they find new aspects to each time they tell the other again, a fresh point of view to ponder, a new silver light in the snow of a cold morning to behold, an almost forgotten, dusty taste to palpate in their mouths. And new stories as well. Stories which they are strangers to themselves until they have finished telling, somewhat scared, their gaze intend and steady upon the other’s face.

Inbetween stories they kiss again, patient and slow and between hushed words, indignant laughter and childlike giggles to find them.

The rain obscuring their sight, they have not seen the sun riding low in the sky and being pulled below the earth, illumined with streaks of light threading their way through the clouds. On the opposite side the moon rises behind the horizon as a vast, unbelievably sublime coin. It is aglow in ember-colored tones.

Meanwhile the rain has stopped, the clouds somehow, somewhen drifted along, revealing a welkin unsullied. Along the branches of the three-fingered tree buds glister lightly with the occasional drop, each heavy with the power of a rainforest’s monsoon, falling with a dead Ferelden king’s immortal might. A pale pink brushes the skies in the early evening, enchanting the horizon into a silky teal flowing into dainty rosy hues, dissolving to mysterious lilacs and, ultimately, velvety cobalt blue, their pastel shades disintegrating into one another.

The rain over, they rise from the embrace of the tree. Hawke tastes the squishy ground first with his boot, the grass springy and spongy underneath him. They bring down the almost soaking cloak which sustained shelter for them all the same.

Albeit smudged with winter dirt, the rain has bestrewn the wet ground with a scatter of shyly budding blossoms. But lying on a green bed of silk, violet crocus flowers wreathe among snowdrops of impeccable ivory and valorous-greened, saffron-yellow daffodils. Once night descends and soars again, hidden birds will begin their songs of time-old tales in every direction despite the cold dawn.

As of yet, Hawke and Fenris listen into the evening air, indicative of battle and fear, fading at last. The barely interrupted fighting has stopped to an exhausted stupor.

The lake from which they ran around midday lies shimmering and serene, struck by spring twilight, its depth wrought in the remembrance of a waning winter, not yet radiant with the lapis blue it will don to bedazzle its entranced surroundings.

With the cease of daylight, the war cries gradually cease too with tired people soon returning to their makeshift camps and jealously guarded camp fires, holding their enemies at bay by the threat of a night ambush, and a sort of weary silence returns to this once tranquil land.

Hawke’s boots squelch and Fenris’ incorrigibly bare feet slap onto the wet grass. Both of them look up to glance not at the spectacular fulgent full moon but westwards.

Behind them, under an unblemished plum-purple firmament, the low horizon would emanate a peach-colored, splendid glow, were it not for the bilious green exuded in the sky above. As both Fenris and Hawke look in its direction, upon their faces is cast a haunting light which throws their features into unfamiliar shapes, rifts and cracks, defacing, distorting them almost into unrecognizability.

Tentatively, Fenris hand touches Hawke’s chest.

“No news from Varric yet.”

Almost absent-mindedly, Hawke’s hand comes to rest on the pocket underneath his armor, too, where a carefully folded, thin package of swiftly-written and often-read letters rests, not speaking at once.

“I would never have believed to say this: No.”

Thoughtful, Fenris looks back at eerie sky. They both appraise it for a while.

This night, although they do not yet know of it, they will spend with rare company, sharing their food and secureness despite Hawke’s being careful of unearthing his name and self. Young and unkempt, a girl of maybe ten years will observe Fenris with curious child’s eyes, after setting fire to a winter-brown scrub, whom he calls witch. She, consequently, proudly informs him when I grow up I will become a witch of the wilds. They thereupon continue staring at each other, she peering, he glaring, till the girl lifts her dirty hands to snatch the apple in mid-air, revealing a gap between her teeth with her grinning at his gift.

For now, however Fenris’ hand easily slides into Hawke’s with well-practiced ease, a modest squeeze tiding through Hawke’s fingers, filling the chill which has descended upon them with warmth, a breathlessness and contentment flaring up inside him, as they set off for the winter-worn, mage-marked, templar-torn, spring-awaiting lake.

Behind them the solitary, three-stemmed tree slowly becomes one with the sinking crocus-purple night, a forest of trees fading with it.

______________________________________________________

😄 Okay, normally I don’t show drafts and I really don’t feel comfortable sharing things I feel are not only unrevised but still rough, blurred and incomplete BUT I really, really, REALLY wanted to contribute something to this last day of February and @14daysdalovers so I’ve worked through this for the last three days on end and I'm deciding now to simply bury my face in my hands and be done with it! 😆😅🙈

💗 Thank you so much @scharoux for your invariable efforts and considerate kindness! With your help what would have been a disheartening, quarantine-ridden February was transformed into weeks of pleasure, creativity and love! 💗

🌹 THANK YOU!!! 🌹

PS. A million thanks, too, to all those incredible, invisible people who actually bother to read my stuff!!!

#fenhawke #m!fenhawke #hawris #fenris #hawke #garrett hawke #14daysdalovers #another part of that still incomplete fanfiction of mine #please ignore me #my writing #Dragon Age II #dragon age 2 #dragon age #Dragon Age: Inquisition #fenris x hawke #hawke x fenris

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ THE FIRST DINNER ❜

Third chapter of ‘Buena suerte’ with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 900.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

You are nervous, you can't avoid it. Since your first date some months ago, Creeper started to be close to Rosa. And she looked pretty excited about her new friendship, because he was funny and always wanted to play with her. So, when you told her that he was coming for dinner, she was pretty excited waiting at the door to open it and to not make him wait. As soon as the bell rings, she jumps from the stairs to receive him.

“Hi, Creep!”

You can hear her high-pitched tone of voice from your position, imagining your daughter hugging him with all her strength as she always does.

“What's up, lil' mama?”

In less than five seconds, they're already in the kitchen. Actually, Rosa is pulling her friend's hand to the room, with a huge smile on her tiny lips.

“Mama! Creep came!”

“Yeah, I heard it, baby”. You can't help but laugh.

It's an awkward moment, not knowing if it's allowed for you two to kiss in front of her, so you just simply hug each other for a moment. When he pulls himself away, the half mexican takes a look at what you are cooking.

“Macaroni!” He says, squatting to lift up Rosa between his arms.

“It's my favorite dish. I told mama that you would like it”. She replies, making you purse your lips on a funny smile.

“It's mine too”. He nods then, pinching the tip of her nose.

You can't help but feel somewhat relaxed watching them being this close, enjoying each other's company. You were scared of bringing home a man, even if you weren't looking for a father to your daughter. But she's the most important person in your life, and if she tells you that she doesn't like your boyfriend, you would choose her over whoever. But she's really delighted, talking about her day at school and all the things she has done today.

“Mama, can I show him my room?”

“Yeah, sure. I will finish dinner, in the meantime”.

“Don' you need help?”

“No, it's okay”.

Moving the spoon inside the tomato sauce with the meet already added, you're thinking about how it would be to live together. Rosa would really love it, and you too. But for some reason, that beautiful moment is overshadowed by the fear of Neron disappearing too. Your eyes get fixed over the red color, bubbling and smoking, until the heat warms your hand enough to push you out of your thoughts. Barely gulping, you turn off the fire to proceed to serve the dishes and finish setting the table. And looks like they have followed the delicious smell, going downstairs to meet you in the living room. Your gaze full of tenderness goes straight at them, biting your bottom lip for a second, feeling the pressure on your chest suddenly leaving. And your heart ends up melting when she asks you if Neron can sit by her side.

You have never seen Rosa smiling this much like tonight, telling Neron about one time you brought her to Disney in Los Angeles. It was almost two years ago, for her birthday. You spent the best four days of your life, just worrying about which attraction choose to ride. He's also making her question, about which one was her favorite, or if she wore one of those Mickey's ears, while you're only listening in silence enjoying their friendship.

When the dinner is over and you have cleared the table, your daughter disappears for some seconds from your field view. Placing a tattooed arm over your shoulders, Creeper makes sure of not hearing her steps coming closer to press his lips on yours. A kiss you were desiring since he came some hours ago. Turning under his grip and placing your hands on his chest, as his stroking both sides of your neck, you deeper it a little looking for his tongue with yours. It's barely a soft caress, ending it with your noses almost touching.

“Thank you… You know, for having patience and being so kind with her”. You whisper, as if it was a secret.

“I'm not faking it, mama. I really have fun with her and I think that tonight was a big step. A good one”.

“Yes, I know it”.

“You happy, ah?”

“Pretty much”. You nod, smirking like an idiot.

“So am I”.

Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, he pulls himself away as soon as Rosa is running to the kitchen.

“What are you hiding there, hm…?” Raising an eyebrow with a funny gesture on your face, you cross both arms resting your waist against the counter.

Rosa looks ashamed, with her head almost bowed, walking slowly towards you until she makes you squat.

“Do you think he would like to read me a story?” She mumbles these words onto your ear, covering it with her small hand, so Creeper can't read her lips.

“Dunno, baby. Ask him”.

The man already knows what it's happening. He's tall enough to see the book behind her back. Your daughter turns at him, curling a leg over her tiptoes and moving it somewhat nervously.

“Are you tired?” She asks then. Creeper bends down, shaking his head slightly. “Can you… read me a story, before sleeping?”

“I thought you would never ask, lil' mama”.

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #neron creeper vargas #neron creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas

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redorich · 3 years

Note

May I request the aftermath of Cleo learning about the magic restrictions please and thank you.

The unfortunate thing about the Dream SMP is that there is no such thing as neutral ground. Everyone's in a faction, and everyone's got beef with everyone else. The only "neutral ground" is the unsettled wilds. When Philza reports this back to Cleo, who reports it back to Xisuma, Cleo wears a put-upon look and says that her and Joe's castle will do just fine, thank you, so stop worrying about it.

The day of the meeting comes, and though Philza is hesitant to return to the castle that scared Techno half to death and activated Ranboo's main character energy, he didn't spend all that time with Cleo handing out the invitations for nothing. Cleo herself won't be present, but her partner in crime Joe will be.

Inside the castle, past the courtyard teeming with armor stand faux-life, there is a meeting room with a table. There are exits on each of the four walls, so no one feels trapped, and the table is circular so that no one feels less important than anyone else. It's all a very Socratic setup.

At the far end of the room, where the head of the table would be were it rectangular, Xisuma sits calm as can be despite the powder keg of important people with grudges he's invited into his presence. On his right is Joe, whose eyes are lit up bright white, though he's still wearing his glasses. To Xisuma's left is Grian, and to Grian's left is Doc. Continuing around the table, next sits Eret representing the Pride Palace and, to a lesser extent, the Dream SMP as a whole. After them, the next person is Philza representing the Syndicate, then Bad representing the Eggpire.

Given the antagonistic nature of the Eggpire, Bad's neighbors have been chosen very carefully; on his other side sits Ghostbur representing L'Manberg. (Philza had awkwardly told Cleo that inviting a L'Manberg representative wasn't necessary, since the place was gone, but she insisted that it was "the principle of the matter". Ghostbur seems happy enough to be invited, anyway.)

On Ghostbur's left, Sam attends on Dream's behalf. Obviously, no one is going to invite Dream, and as Dream's would-be warden, Sam was nominated to attend in his stead. Next to Sam there's an empty chair for George; Philza and Puffy both warned the Hermits that George was allergic to "lore", whatever that meant, but his place at the table was set nevertheless.

The last person to fill in the table is Tubbo, representing Snowchester. He quietly expresses to Sam that he's wary about how few Hermits there are in proportion to the number of Dream SMP citizens. Sam shrugs, and murmurs back to Tubbo that there's probably more Hermits hiding somewhere nearby. After all, isn't that what the Hermits do?

Xisuma claps his hands together once in a polite bid for everyone's attention. They settle down slowly, and once they do, he stands.

"Right, everyone-- thank you all for coming. Let's get right into it, shall we?" He smiles, though it's hard to see beneath the helmet. "With some help from Puffy and Philza, my friends and I were able to figure out why we were trapped in your server."

Sam crosses his arms. He doesn't give much of a shit about the Hermits, he tells himself, unless they have something to do with Dream-- Sam's greatest failure. (It's a lie. He looks at Doc, the only other creeper-person he's ever met-- the first creeper-person, who fought a god and won the right to live for all mob hybrids who came after him. Doc, whose eyes are fixed solely on Xisuma.)

Clearing his throat to cover up the moment of weakness, Sam speaks up. "That's great and all, but why do we care? No one was living in L'Manberg anyway; it was practically free real estate."

The callous words net Sam a glare from Tubbo and a hurt look from Ghostbur. Before either can protest, Xisuma cuts in smoothly.

"It's an issue with your server," he says, "one that Dream should have fixed. It's the reason for this meeting, actually; if there was a responsible admin in the server, I would have just told them. First, a history lesson-- Doc, if you please?"

Doc nods somberly, savoring the opportunity to ham it up a bit. "For those of you who don't know, there are three Eras. The first is the beginning of time, when Mojang created the world as we know it. Players had infinite respawns, the world was less advanced, and redstone had just been created."

"Don't you think you're going a little too far back in history?" Bad asks skeptically.

"He's getting there," Eret defends.

Doc picks up where he left off. "In the Mojang pantheon, there was a god named Notch who wanted to expand the world's horizons, to give them new biomes and mechanics and blocks they'd never seen before... but you can't make something out of nothing. He needed magic to make his big updates a reality, and he stole it from the players behind the other gods' backs."

Ghostbur gasps, horrified. "He stole magic?"

"And so the gods killed him and gave the magic back, end of story," Sam snaps, then instantly regrets it. He's too on edge.

Thankfully, Doc either doesn't mind it or doesn't notice. "Not quite," he says. "When Notch took the magic from players, they lost the ability to respawn at all, marking the beginning of Era Two-- the Hardcore Era. When the gods found out, they were angry at Notch, so they exiled him to the Void. They tried to give players back their magic, but Notch had already taken too much, and servers and updates kept needing more and more... That's how Era Three started. It's the one you live in now, with the three life system."

"So... why does this matter?" Tubbo asks. "I mean, what does this have to do with why you're stuck in our server?"

"There's a parasite on your server, eating up all the magic," Xisuma says carefully. "Your server needed extra magic to keep up, so when we went through the infinity portal it grabbed us. As a group comprised mostly of Era One players, we have the magic that the server needs to compensate for the parasite."

Most of the Dream SMP citizens look either nauseous or extremely worried at the thought of a parasite. With a furrowed brow and a chewed lip, Eret breaks the silence.

"Do you know who it is?"

They all look around the table with wary gimlet eyes, attempting to suss out the imposter among them.

"A parasite..." Sam snorts derisively. "Sounds like that damn egg."

"Language," Bad snaps, but doesn't resort to violence.

"No no, he's got a point," Grian speaks for the first time. He'd been told to stay silent, but he's not a man who will ever pass up an opportunity to meme.

Bad's face falls, and he takes on a placating tone in an attempt to persuade the Hermits to his side. "Hey, don't be like that, the Egg's never done anything wrong!"

Sam's eyebrows raise practically to the ceiling. He looks at Bad in disbelief. "Never done anything wrong?" he says. "Remember when you--"

"That was me, not the Egg," Bad cuts in with a nervous laugh.

"You tried to kill Puffy over it, then killed Foolish instead," Philza says solely because he wants the Hermits to be mad about the Egg.

"Hm," Joe hums to himself. Up until this point the man everyone knows as Herobrine has been quiet, fading into the background, but now that he's made his presence known they can't help but be wary.

He drums his fingers on the table. "Yeah, I think we need some backup. False, Iskall?"

"On it," Doc grumbles, and reaches under the table to flip a couple trapdoors.

Out of nowhere, as though they'd ender pearled in, a blonde woman and a cyborg man appear behind the Hermits' end of the table. Bad stands up suddenly, knocking his chair backward, but Doc presses another button and all four entrances to the room are shut by pistons.

The woman, False, vaults herself over the table with nothing but upper body strength and tackles Bad to the floor. While the demon is still stunned, Iskall dashes around the circumference of the table to flank him. Doc once again presses a button and the floor opens up to reveal a secret staircase, which False and Iskall drag Bad down kicking and screaming. Once they disappear into the depths of the basement, the floor closes back up and the doors reopen like nothing ever happened.

"Well," Xisuma says with a small smile, lacing his fingers together as he addresses the group.

They stare back at him in horror.

He clears his throat awkwardly. "So, with the removal of the Egg, your server will stabilize and we Hermits will be able to leave you in peace..."

"I'm sensing a but," Eret says tentatively. They take off their sunglasses with a minute sigh, reminding themself that it's because of these Hermits that their curse was removed, that they can take off their sunglasses and have gray eyes again.

Taking a deep breath, Xisuma speaks. "We think we have a way to fix the three-life system."

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #zombiecleo #philza #xisuma #joe hills #grian #docm77 #eret #badboyhalo #ghostbur #awesamdude #tubbo #falsesymmetry #iskall85 #me.cpp #me.txt

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