#dream smp writing

[polinamory]

Just a piece of my daydreaming

tw blood torture and mention of death

At some point, Dream began to pray. There was simply nothing else to do. God's alms are his last hope. He did not even ask for release or an end to the torture. He didn't ask for food or sunlight. Dream didn't need it anymore.

He asked for death.

Any. Dream himself believed that he did not deserve a painless death. Sometimes in his prayers he wished for a knife or a sword. At least one piece of glass. Not that Dream thought he would be able to kill himself, but he wouldn't give up the right to try.

More often than not, he whispered prayers at the end of Quackity's visits.

"I wish I could bleed to death."

Then Dream tried to look as non-painful as possible, so that Quackity would think that he could stand it more. To deliver a blow that he couldn't survive. So that he doesn't have time to run to the bars for regeneration potions and a bucket of cold water.

Coming back from the dead is the worst feeling of all. When Dream was already mentally saying goodbye to everyone and allowed himself a slight smile, thinking that it was over, but then he woke up screaming on the floor again, in a puddle of water, blood and potions. And then Quackity punished him for it. Quackity did not give permission to die.

Another unpleasant experience is getting lost in days. When he lost consciousness in the process of another torture, and woke up when the bars were lowered again and Quackity started a new one.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Omg for the Whumper dialogue 11 + c!primeboys

had to do a finale horror thing again.

TW: Suicidal thoughts, memory loss, memory wiping, abuse, manipulation, self harm

——

It felt like floating.

Tommy expected something violent, something cruel out of this limbo, but he felt more at peace here than any others. It was like he was floating in an ocean of stars, and when he closed his eyes he could hear the gentle roar of the ocean.

Was this what death was meant to be like? Fuck, if that was the case, Tommy would have offed himself long ago. It was… peaceful.

He missed peace. That’s all he ever really wanted.

Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Tommy thought about nothing. He had no thoughts for untold eons, and thought of everything every second. His mind was racing fast yet staying utterly still, and it felt like he was asleep and awake for an eternity and a minute. He could hear the salty ocean breeze and taste the sounds of waves as trillions of star systems were born and died around him.

And the universe loved him, for he was love.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” someone said, and Tommy groaned because fuck, he knew that voice all too well.

“Fuck off, Dream,” he mumbled, not bothering to even open his eyes. “If you wouldn’t let me rest in life, let me rest in death, you prick.”

“Well, I just don’t want you to miss the show, y’know. It’s not every day you watch the universe be reformed before your eyes.”

“The fuck are you on about?”

“C’mon, did you really think I'd give up that easily? Your little plan was adorable, honestly, so I couldn’t help but let you have it, but this… this is what I wanted all along.”

“To play God?”

“A fresh start.” Dream laughed, and it was almost disturbing how little malice was in it. “One where I'll finally be able to help, and all of you won’t just keep resisting me. I could have reset you back to how you all were at the start of the server… but it’s so much easier to wipe the slate clean completely. None of you will remember a thing once this is done. Maybe you'll know your names, if you're lucky. And I'll be able to hold onto all of that for everyone! I’ll be the only one who remembers, the only one who can help… it'll be wonderful, won’t it Tommy?”

“No! No, no, fuck no.” Tommy jolted up suddenly, glaring at Dream. “That sounds like Hell. Fuck, man, that sounds like Exile.”

“I know. Isn’t it perfect?”

“No no no no no no no!” Tommy grabbed his ears, pushing his nails into his head violently. “No, I’m not doing that again! I’m not! I’m not I’m not I’m not. You’re not- I'm not going to just forget everything. I refuse. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do that again!”

A gentle hand wiped tears off his face he didn’t even know were there. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll help you forget. Then we can start over again. Except this time, it'll never have to end like this! It'll be just like Exile, forever, with everyone! Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

The last thing Tommy said before he was swallowed whole by the universe and forgot was a quiet, broken “No.”

[tubborucho]

WAIT WHAT

i mean, i am mot surprised that it was RIGGED, i am just surprised to hear about it

[gooptroupe]

As long as I need.

a continuation of this sketch

[fjdraws]

top 10 exile moments watchmojo compilation

[niabiabloop]

Amazing 👏🏻

Hey it's the Anon that requested the Eret, Foolish and Immortal!reader ask, I was wondering if you could do a fluff verson of it? Also can I be 🌌 Anon?

"surprise" ➷ Eret & Foolish

or: the god, the king and their immortal lover

➛ pairing: c!Eret x c!Foolish x gn!immortal!reader

➛ idea: Eret, Foolish and Immortal!reader that got engaged hundreds of years ago

↳ first request (angst)

➛ tags/warnings: fluff

➛ an: of course! Welcome 🌌- anon! Hope you enjoyed both versions.

"What do you think she would want?"

You looked from the large selection of necklaces to the small table in front of which Foolish stood. Small wooden boxes filled with different kinds of rings stood on the red tablecloth, narrower ones with fine stones, thicker ones with bigger ones, diamonds, emeralds, gold or some even with netherite, some with engraving, classic rings, extravagant ones. They all looked beautiful, you could see with what care the little old lady with the crooked back behind the table had worked on them but none of the rings really matched Eret.

"I don't know" You stepped closer to Foolish, who was bent over the boxes, pointing to a plain silver ring. "Nah, she needs something special." you murmured thoughtfully, thinking of the fine dresses and suits that were in Eret's wardrobe. Even if Foolish probably cared most about your appearances, Eret was still careful to always appear well-dressed, and you could never give her a plain ring because of that.

At your words, the older lady had lifted her head. It startled you slightly, the way she had been sitting in her chair before, you had thought she was asleep and now you felt a little ashamed for having called the rings nothing "special" in front of her.

Her wrinkled face contorted into a surprised expression as she seemingly recognized Foolish and you, the old blue eyes widening. Foolish didn't get any of this, he was busy looking at the rings further ahead, the ones with the emeralds had naturally caught his attention, but a light kick to his feet made him look up.

"Oh, hello!" he greeted the lady in a friendly manner, pointing to the rings. "Do you by any chance have the possibility to have a ring specially made? I'm afraid we can't find one to match our partner."

His ability to talk freely with strangers was one thing you admired about Foolish, not only because it was the reason you were together today in the first place, but he never had trouble starting conversations and charmed everyone with his dazzling smile. He had a talent for wrapping people around his fingers, his beauty and divine charisma being a decisive factor.

The woman seemed to fall for this charm immediately, pointing up the street with a slightly shaky hand. "Go four houses down to my grandson's house, there where the blacksmith's shop is. Is there anything I can do to help you before then?"

Your eyes fell again on the necklace you had examined earlier, golden with a small sword pendant, in whose hilt an emerald was set. Carefully you lifted it up and handed it to the lady. Foolish picked up a wide upper bracelet adorned with emeralds as well, giving you a gentle smile as your purchases were packed into two dark wooden boxes.

"That will be one hundred gold pieces"

Without batting an eye, Foolish took out more gold pieces than requested from his wallet and exchanged them for the bag of your newly acquired jewelry.

"Thank you very much," the lady bowed as best she could with her back. "May the sun always shine on your way my highnesses".

Gratefully nodding to her, you reached for Foolish's hand as you turned and followed her advice.

It was a sunny day, the narrow village street was filled with people looking at the small stalls and stores or just walking over the cobblestones. You could understand, the village was one of your favorite places in Eret's kingdom, with its winding houses and their dark crossbeams and colorful inviting shop windows. There were garlands strung from house wall to house wall, potted plants on the windowsills, or cats lolling in the midday sun.

Foolish and you had left Eret to her work after your breakfast together and had ridden to the village for an trip, but it had not been planned that the visit to the village would end with the idea of buying engagement rings.

"I'm sure Eret will be very pleased" Foolish squeezed your hand tighter, as if he had heard your thoughts.

Smiling, you nodded, leaning closer to him so you could walk past a family who immediately waved at you. With your free hands, you waved back. It was still foreign to you to be treated differently, but since you had entered Foolish and Eret's relationship, your life had changed, and somehow you liked that people smiled at you or wanted to talk to you when you walked in the village.

If it hadn't been for Foolish's pulling, you would have missed the forge, distracted by the people looking at you.

The blacksmith store was different from the other stores, instead of a front wall of the house, it was open, giving a view of the stone interior. In the center of the room stood an anvil on a tree stump, around it barrels upon barrels of axes and pickaxes, and to your right was a stone trough in which lava bubbled menacingly, the source of the glowing heat that flowed toward you as you entered.

Bending over the anvil stood a man, perhaps a few years older than you, dressed in a black apron that protected him from the spraying sparks of the axe he was beating into shape. His brown hair stuck to his sweaty forehead and he looked at you through one of the strands, indicating you to wait with a nod of his head while he dipped the axe into a barrel filled with water, whereupon a huge cloud of steam rose, it hissed for a few seconds before he pulled out the now dark and finished axe and put it away.

"How can I help you, your highnesses? Do you desire something special?" The blacksmith removed his gloves, smiling a welcoming smile at both of you.

Foolish put an arm around your shoulders, visibly showing the man that you were taken, which made you roll your eyes internally. "Your grandmother told us you could make us a ring for our partner, do you have time for that or should we come back another time?"

He didn't even have to ask that last part, almost anyone would kick any customer out of the store for the king's partners and yet you appreciated Foolish for asking.

"Of course, what is your wish?"

A few hours later, you jumped off your horse from behind Foolish, the bag with the precious wooden boxes pressed tightly to your chest. Foolish followed you just as hurriedly, almost tripping over his long legs with excitement as you ran across the castle courtyard. You ran up the quartz steps at the entrance, through the empty entrance hall with its many paintings, down the corridors shining through the glittering colored window panes, until you arrived at the tall, closed black oak door, before which two guards in netherite armor stood.

Without having to voice your request, they stepped aside, opening the double doors so that you could enter your partner's study.

Behind the doors lay a large, -for Eret- barely furnished room with high windows, framed by long white curtains, in front of which stood a wide wooden bench with many small plants and a discarded crown on it. There were two tall bookshelves on the sides of the door, filled with books about wars, economics, and stories about countries you'd never heard of.

The walls were mostly blank, with only a few paintings of Foolish, Eret, and you hanging, and even those hung behind the large desk. A desk at which Eret sat bent over a book.

At your entrance, she lifted her head, slid a red bookmark into the book and set it down beside her steaming teacup, scooting back with her chair. Giggling, you ran to her, threw yourself on her lap and wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her into a deep kiss.

Eret laughed out, putting her arms around you to keep you from falling " Easy there, my love. Was your day that exciting?" She welcomed Foolish, who had sat down on the desk in front of you, with a kiss as well, lovingly nudging the tip of her nose against his, while at the same time stroking your back in circles, her fingernails gently pressing against your shirt.

"They've set up a little fairground in the marketplace for the beginning of summer, with a band and games for the kids," you told her, leaning on Eret's shoulder. "Can we go there again tonight? They plan to have handmade lanterns in the colors of the kingdom rise into the air once the sun has set. Can we please? I really want to see that."

After Eret's nod, you kissed her again, full of anticipation for an evening in the village with your lovers by your side, that you almost forgot why you had come home early.

It was only with the uncomfortable feeling of a wooden box pressing into your stomach between you and Eret that you remembered and your eyes began to sparkle. "Oh, and we bought engagement rings!" you exclaimed joyfully. Foolish nodded eagerly, helping you pull the bag over your head.

At first Eret didn't quite seem to believe you, as she watched you in confusion as Foolish pulled out the wooden boxes and placed them on the desk beside him. When he opened the first one and revealed his band, she gasped loudly, gripping you tighter in her lap.

Eret's white eyes widened in shock. "Oh heavens- you two are alone for a few hours, come back and want to get married? Sometimes I really wonder what goes on in your heads."

You could feel her breathing quicken and reassuringly you breathed a kiss on her cheek, which she leaned into. Her hand on your hip loosened a little, but she still looked uncertainly back and forth between you and Foolish.

Foolish, who had been happily dangling his legs until now, sternly placed a hand on her other cheek, clasping the porcelain skin in his large palm. "Think of it as a token of our love, not something that is official. We wanted to show you how important you are to us."

"Exactly," you agreed with him, smiling lovingly at Eret. "No one will know what they stand for, they look too different for anyone but us to understand that they belong together. Do you like to see them?"

Somewhat reluctantly, Eret nodded, but seemed to be slowly warming to the idea, for the corners of her mouth pulled up slightly at the sight of Foolish brushing the golden band up to his upper arm, where it fit like a glove.

He opened the next wooden box, the one with your necklace, which he immediately helped you put on. Like his band, the necklace suited you, the sword pendant lay directly in your décolleté, over which Eret stroked mesmerized.

You trembled under her touch, lost in the feel of fingernails on your skin, until Foolish opened the last box and Eret slapped her hands to her mouth.

"Surprise!"

"No, you didn't- How?", Eret stammered to herself, not quite managing to formulate clear sentences. Almost comically, her mouth fell open and you had to chuckle.

Your first reaction to the ring had been similar, speechless and unbelievable, you had stared at the golden ring with the emerald cut into a heart, already imagining how beautiful the delicate ring would look on Eret's elegant hands.

However, nothing could compare to reality. The ring sat perfectly on Eret's finger, gold on milky pure skin, expensive and noble, just like Eret herself.

Foolish leaned further forward, his muscles flexing under the band, and you felt heat rising in your cheeks. He caught your gaze, winking cheekily at you before turning his attention back to Eret. "Do you accept the gift? Say yes to our engagement?" he asked, playing with one of Eret's strands of hair that had fallen out of her braid.

"How could I say no to that?" Eret laughed softly, her gaze still on her new ring. "You guys are unbelievable. What happens if you're out on your own again? Can you even top this?"

"I wouldn't take that chance."

[goosewizard]

do you ever think tommy lashed out after exile in the hopes that he would get hurt again? that he bit the hand that fed him and kept fucking biting just so he’d get hit? that the quiet and the gentleness and being treated like a baby bird with a broken wing was the worse option? at least when he got hit it was over fast. at least the pain was quick and sharp and couldn’t stay forever. gentleness only brings sharper, crueler things down the line, so tommy would prefer the bloody nose or black eye or broken arm thank you very much. so he bites and bites and gnaws and chews up his relationships and waits for the pain that won’t come. because at least this meant it was his choice to be alone. no one could take away what he had willingly given up.

[spoopdeedoop]

wrote a teensy ctommy fic lol

[breadly-art]

Save a horse ride a cowboy

I've finally finished checking my translation, so I can post this!

This is my fanfiction in my own English translation ^^ Cowboy!AU, PWP, Dirty talk and some other tags....so yeah, this is NOT FOR KIDS.

Enjoy~

[bigtstreaming]

guys why'd i kind of eat this like...

How to Build an Empire

ello loves, here is the writing i’ve been teasing. it’s not very plot oriented (more of like a summary of certain events if that makes sense. idk just… read it and you’ll see what i mean). it’s just loosely edited because if i stare at something i do too much i will scream <3 also it’s quite long. enjoy:3

Six months and twenty-two days they have been underground or at least that’s what the tallies carved into the wall read. Six months and twenty-two days since they lost everything; everything they built from the ground up. Wilbur could still remember how the cotton of his shirt stuck to him (before he had to cut it up for bandages), as the sun poured down on him while he watched his son tear down everything he created. A few iron picks and a few hours was all it took to destroy everything they had worked for. The fear in Tubbo’s eyes as he received a heavy pat on the back, his new rank already weighing heavy on his shoulders, haunted all of their dreams. Months later, and the ghost of that hand would still be with him. 

Six months and twenty-two days since his feet bled and cried out in pain, running for miles and miles as they were chased with crossbows and swords, their heads wanted on a silver platter just in time for dinner. If he had gotten everything he wanted, he would’ve personally made sure both of their heads were stuck to each end of his horns, displaying his trophies.

Keep reading

[polinamory]

translated one of my recent works. tbh worried that I've made a lot of mistakes but anyway

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55184077

“I was just walking around the neighborhood and noticed that your light was on. I come in, and you're lying here half-dead.”

“And how long has the light been an invitation to enter?”

///

Tommy got sick on MCC's day, and Dream was there. The actins take place during the early L'manberg period.

[appleflavoredkitkats]

sometimes i think about l'manberg as meaning-makers.

they are what made the dsmp transcend minecraft as a statistical, skill-centric game into something where meaning is arbitrary. this works in both an in-narrative and meta angle. on one hand, power in the dsmp before l'manberg was centered on pvp and resources (and ultimately, that also dictated how power is gained and lost for the rest of the dsmp's lifetime). that's the main thing they were fighting against, yeah? that people in l'manberg were not as physically skilled in a more strategic, game-like minecraft sense compared to the dteam and their allies.

l'manberg is literally the introduction of power derived from personal meaning and interests, something more supposedly "arbitrary" than, let's say, being able to pvp like techno or dream. it's the one thing you cannot measure compared to physical power (like dream's insane pvp skills) or resources (dream's ability to build the prison with sam, or dream and the emerald duo being able to blow up nlm). l'manberg literally sets the precedent of the dsmp being controlled by! arbitrary means!

it works in good and bad ways, because i mean like. defying the status quo of power is one thing, but how is a completely other thing. how every l'manbergian viewed l'manberg isn't the same with each other, especially wilbur. besides all the principles he designates to the idea of l'manberg, we can't ignore that he literally brings up geopolitical constructs into the dsmp like discussions of economy (salmon being their main produce) or police (his answer of what they'll do abt pet deaths). but of course meaning-making isn't bad, because, i mean, look at the discs! at the pets everyone owns!

i joke about everyone needing to apologize to the dsmp after the minecraft movie trailer dropped because. the dsmp will forever encapsulate the meaning of minecraft better than that movie ever will. there is always a constant discussion of power - entertaining that this game, this server is winnable. the closemindedness people can have when dictating how minecraft should be played (ie. dream on the pvp side, wilbur on the narrative side) versus minecraft being something entirely up to your decision, something that is a shared space of people with varying opinions and thought processes.

yeah i'm crazy about l'manberg actually, and the precedent it set in the dsmp. what it challenges and what it's caused. what it challenged and reinforced. what a crazy nation

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

77?

full on mad scientist c!dream bc why not.

TW: Kidnapping, human experimentation, abuse, torture, implied suicide attempts, possessive behaviour, body horror, sleep deprivation, electrocution, drugging, and an incredibly unreliable narrator.

——

Day three of testing.

This subject seems more resilient than the others, and hasn’t broken under Dream's pulling and prodding yet. He thinks he might keep this one.

Caucasian male, roughly between fourteen and sixteen, blond hair, blue eyes. Six foot three and weighing far less than he should. Scars across his wrists, sleeping rough on the street, no missing person report. Either no one misses him or they think he's done the inevitable. Mouthy and loud, with a strange style of speaking that at first Dream categorised as obnoxious but has since found an odd charm in. Incredibly resilient, physically and mentally. Responds to positive reinforcement and praise far better than negative reinforcement and punishment, though both elicit amusing reactions.

What? Dream may be a scientist, but that doesn’t mean he can't have some fun every now and again. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

He doesn’t need a name- Subject 9 fits perfectly fine- but he loudly insists on being called Tommy with such a ferocity it is how Dream has started to mentally catalogue him as such. Never out loud- never show weakness, that gets you killed. Maybe one day, if Tommy earns it. If Tommy survives.

The idea of him dying seems wrong, somehow. He’s lasted longer than the others. Maybe Dream will take a new subject, for the riskier experiments, and keep Tommy to the relatively safer ones. Oh, he'll make him perfect someday, but he'll perfect that on others first, have them die on the operating table for him.

Somehow, Dream gets the feeling that Tommy wouldn’t appreciate that, and it only amuses him further.

There is a grace in his improvements most would not grasp. Patchwork grafts of skin, hiding the thin but durable layer of armour underneath. A hairless, prehensile tail, like a rats but rather more uneven. Mis-matched, oddly coloured eyes enabling perfect night vision. A mouth full of perfectly sharp, iron teeth, to fit his new dietary need for raw flesh. Horns jutting out of bloodied and raw flesh, irregular in shape, sharp enough to gore any man to death.

Most, Dream knew, would find the result horrifying. For Dream, it elicited the same sort of response as a particularly small kitten.

Of course, this was only a tiny fraction of the amount of changes needed to truly make the perfect being. He needed to be taller, stronger. Claws, hooves, stingers, spikes. A million lethal poisons at his disposal. Wings, large enough to allow his form to take into the air. Enhancements to the brain, cybernetics to allow him to think as fast and as logically as any supercomputer. Induced obedience- preferably, that of a sort that wouldn’t interfere with his hilarious shows of defiance that much.

Really, Tommy should be thanking him. Instead, he was being an ungrateful little wretch.

Sighing, Dream administers another shock to the half-conscious subject, forcing him to open his eyes yet again. “You’re not done.”

“I- I can’t do anymore, man.” Lazily, the ungrateful brat gestured at the course Dream had so generously built to test his abilities. “I haven’t slept in days. I can’t move.”

Fine. Dream's soft heart will be the death of him, he knows, because he can’t resist those puppy dog eyes. He'd let the kid have a few hours. But first…

“You want to sleep?” Dream grinned. “Beg for it, then.”

“Wha- why?” Tommy glared up at him, trying very hard to look intimidating and failing.

“If you’re not going to be doing our tests, for the greater good of all humanity, at the very least you can be of some entertainment, surely.”

The defeated look on Tommy's face was priceless. “I- I- please let me sleep, I promise I’ll do all the tests later, please, I’ll be good, I will, promise, sir-“

“Doctor.” Dream insisted.

“Yeah, yeah. Doctor. Just- I’m so fuckin' tired, man. Please.”

And how could Dream resist such a polite request?

Only the most minute of shock was visible on the subjects face as the needle pierced his flesh, before the medicine quickly glazed over, leaving him dazed in a second and asleep in two. Like an animal, in hibernation. How fascinating.

Draping the least bloody sheet he could find over his prone form like a blanket, Dream paused a second before leaving the cell, smiling. “Sweet dreams, my Tommy.”

[tubborucho]

Tommy, Tubbo and Jack – There are fresh flowers in the middle of my table and I sigh, content, for the first time since I was born: I can be healed one day

taglist: @smallz-o @salineroses-two-point-oh @animator-vs-animation @deadfishisyeq @snyland @missstrawberry @frubbotoxicyuri @haloberry @thecardboardbutterfly @avianchorus @qtubbo @an-egghead @codaattheend @mikaikaika @radio-zephyr @routeriver @luminouslotuses @lionheartedmusings

dm me if you want in or out of taglist

credits:

1. October, 1997

2. https://pin.it/2nmqDPTAc

3. "The October Morning Ends" Tasia M. Hane

4. https://pin.it/375jeIFF9

5. tiktok: ashmanathletics

6. Quote by Paolo Coelho

7. Quote by Kait Rokowski

8. Game: What Remains Of Edith Finch?

9. @.throathole

10. twitch.tv/JackManifoldTV

[bizlybebo]

it’ll be 2030 and i’ll still be opening ao3 posting dsmp fic btw. the world may forget but i won’t let it. i’ve silenced my fears of this fandom dying by simply deciding to Become the fandom if it ever gets too small. i will be dragged out of this shitty minecraft role play kicking and screaming because you Cannot stop me.

[not-an-ai]

We know that Dream was fed raw potatoes in the prison, and nothing else. And in many fanfics, Dream doesn't eat them and they rot, I feel what most people are forgetting is that potatoes are the best vegetable possible. And what do potatoes also do? Grow in weird conditions, like sprouting in your kitchen when you haven't used them in awhile. They grow anywhere. I.e; this meme, thus, I think it is very important to talk about the cell Dream is covered and quite possibly taken over by potatoes. Because eventually the chest and the book thingy would decompress as they are made of wood, and potatoes could grow in/on them, and if you are doing an au where Dream dies in the prison and no one removes his body for whatever reason. When someone finally finds it, potatoes are growing out of it. Or if it is an immortal Dream au, there are potatoes growing in/out of Dream.