#not in any way that tommy could manipulate him into dropping anyway

[alchemistc]

There's been something about the woobification of Buck that's been sitting on the tip of my tongue for weeks now, and I think I've finally figured it out.

This is, of course, mostly in reference to the moral outrage about a decade-ish (give or take) age gap between two adult men and the infantalization of one said grown man, so all the puritanism isn't really coming from a place of good faith anyway, but here's the thing that's been bugging me that I couldn't quite put a finger on until now.

Buck has people he goes to for certain things. He has, what are in his mind, experts in the field for most of the things he can't think through on his own, that he goes to for a sounding board.

He went to Hen to talk through the sperm donor dilemma for a few reasons that made sense to him. 1) She's a mom. She has very much had to deal with the reality of 'giving up' children she considered her own. Buck is aware that he would be giving up something that could mean something to him, and he wants to talk to someone who has some insight into that. 2) She's dealt with IVF. She knows the risks, she knows the trials and tribulations, she knows about this thing that he is thinking about agreeing to be a part of so she's going to have a fuller grasp on the enormity of everything this process entails.

And they drink about it. Hen gives him what she can and cautions him where she thinks she should and they continue to talk about it and regardless of what SHE thinks, he makes his mind up in part because he got to talk to his Expert.

Bobby is often his go to when he feels like he's losing his grip on things. He's seen Bobby staring down the bottom of the bottle. He's seen the work he's done to pull himself back into the world, and he's seen the way he fights for his family, his people. Buck leans on him in times of questioning himself because he knows Bobby has pulled himself off the ledge with bleeding hands and a bleeding heart.

He reaches out to Maddie about interpersonal shit constantly. We see it all the way back in S2 when he's starting to question what the hell he's still doing in Abby's apartment, and that never really changes. She's the one with advice for him when he's angry with his parents, upset with the firefam, worried about his friends, or just generally concerned with the way he's perceived by people or how he perceives the world. He goes to her when he's embarrassed, ashamed, because he knows she won't judge him for it. She'll call him out, for sure, but she's not going to look at him differently when she knows he's done something he considers bad behavior.

When he goes to her during the Tommy arc, he's there for one reason he'll admit, and another she has to ferret out. 1) He lied to his best friend and he doesn't know why. 2) Oh yeah he went on a date with a dude that's not strange WHY IS THAT STRANGE I'VE ALWAYS BEEN AN ALLY PLEASE DON'T PULL BACK THE CURTAIN - and Maddie is there with two things: 1) It's not weird but it IS new and something you clearly haven't worked through all the way which is why 2) you'll tell Eddie when you're ready

And Eddie is sort of his go-to to bounce ideas off of. Eddie is his Buck expert. Eddie is the guy who can sort through all the bullshit and who sees Buck for exactly who he is, every time, regardless of what Buck himself is thinking. Eddie is his best friend, and he knows the good the bad and the ugly better than anyone else. He is also, quite frankly, the one Buck seeks out to help him contextualize all of his romantic feelings for people. Eddie's the guy he talks to when he's interested in someone, when he's falling for someone, he's the guy through which Buck filters his love interests into the firefam. I do the same shit with my best friend. It's instinct to want the person you consider the expert on you to meet the person you are interested in, it's instinct to want them to like each other, to get along. Buck knows Eddie loves him (in whatever way you see that love, Buck knows Eddie loves him) and he wants this person who loves him to be at least an active listener as he talks himself through the minefield of relationships. I do also think that up until the events of season seven, Buck considers Eddie sort of an expert on that traditional love-marriage-kids-white-picket-fence relationship Buck thinks he's striving for - in a very naive way, because obviously the wasn't what Eddie and Shannon had and Buck knows that, but he's probably fed some of Eddie's rose colored reminiscences back into that notion.

When he comes out to Eddie he's got two worries. 1) I lied to you and I figured out why but I'm still a little worried you think it's weird and 2) I screwed it up with someone I really like and I don't know where to go from here.

And Eddie (Buck expert) reassures him that just because it's new and unexpected doesn't make it strange, that it doesn't change anything in their friendship. And then he gets right to the heart of it - if you like him you should reach out and tell him that. He doesn't know you like we do but if you give him the chance to, he'll love you as much as we do. If he doesn't give it the same shot you want to he's the idiot.

With all that context in mind, Buck isn't seeking out Tommy's attention because he wants an authority figure, or someone to take care of him, someone to guide him through sex or love or relationship dynamics or any of the other random shit I've seen ppl infantalizing Buck about.

What he's looking for, and what he ultimately tells Tommy he'd like to pursue, is a partnership. Someone to walk (or more likely for Buck, speedrun) through experiences together. The Athena to his Bobby, the Chim to his Maddie, the Karen to his Hen.

So every time I see someone infantalizing Buck for seeking out a relationship with an older man for X or Y reason, I'm just like - no. He has Bobby, Hen, Maddie, Eddie, Chim etc for that. He doesn't want or need Tommy for that. He is a grown ass man who has built these strong relationships with his peers and his mentors and he is so fucking aware of that because he reaches for their help any time he feels the urge for a helping hand.

So yeah, Tommy's older. Yes, Tommy has more experience with his sexuality than Buck. And that - that's really it. Buck's been in the same career for more than half a decade. He's lived on his own since he was no older than 19/20. He's had serious relationships, he has a rich and fulfilling life. There is no power imbalance in the relationship between Buck and Tommy.

And while the age gap may be a bit of a draw for Buck, it's not WHY he's attracted to Tommy. We know because he's told Maddie. He's cool. He's interesting. He's confident. He has a cleft.

Buck isn't going into this waiting for someone older and more experienced to take the fucking reins. He felt like he clicked with Tommy, like there was an immediate connection, and yes, Tommy had to kiss him about it for Buck to actually figure out what it was he was experiencing, but from that point on it was all on Buck (and the people he leans on for advice) to help him sort through.

Tommy didn't do shit other than pump the brakes and try to give Buck the space he thought he needed to decide what he was ready for. Buck (again, with the help of his experts - Maddie for the emotional piece of it, Eddie for the Buck of it all) did the work on his own. Tommy didn't swoop in and overbearingly hold his hand through a sexual awakening. He kissed him, asked him out, realized he wasn't ready, stepped back and then checked in multiple times when Buck came back at it going 120 miles an hour.

And then he did everything he could to prove to Buck he wanted the same thing - a partner, someone to talk to, and lean on, and flirt with and rely on to show up whenever they could feasibly manage it (and sometimes when it's a little unfeasible too).

The narrative even acknowledges that Buck had no reason to go to Bobby in this scenario, when he often would, and lays out exactly why.

Within the canon of this particular arc, we're meant to see this as Buck realizing he has the experience necessary to think these things through on his own. This is Buck finally taking control of something that's always felt like it fell into his lap a bit. This is Buck doing more than treading water until his legs give out.

And minimizing that growth bc you personally don't like the LI he's pursuing is gross at best. At worst it's something much more insidious.

[dearramiel]

billy desperately trying to babytrap his girl after she tries to break up w him🤭

This is so good.

✧ - baby trapping, subconscious manipulation, verbal abuse, violent!billy, billy is overprotective, obsessive, and possessive, implied stalker! billy, mentions of billy beating up jason tommy h & some other guy, controlling behavior, toxic relationship, gaslighting, guiltriping, unprotected sex( piv), breeding, cockwarming, mentions of tampering with birth control but it doesn't actually happen, hint of fluff at the end,

Billy's infatuation with you starts the very first day he looks at you, a beautiful, shy, charismatic girl who he could bend at will. He knew he would have you, it wasn't even a matter of how but when.

He was good at orchestrating everything, from the very first time you talk, the heated kisses, and first time hooking up. Billy wasn't your first, but you sure as hell felt like a virgin the first time you took him. He made you feel good, loved, he was sweet, caring, and charming. Just two months in, everything had changed. From the very beginning he knew you were different than other girls he had been with, he never had a girlfriend, and it hit him like a shock. He started acknowledging how much depth his love went, at first it was just him messing around with another girl, but he had gone way off track.

It was hard not to, you had been the only girl to care for him, rather than his dick. You were different. You treated him different than any other person.

It wasn't all on him anyway, you weren't stupid, you knew what Billy's intentions were from the beginning, he'd never once talked to you, but it began to get hard to let go when he kept you around, not shoving you through his window after hooking up, not pretending like you didn't exist when he walked by you at school, offering rides after he proposed in exchange for him to be lenient on Max being late, or even how he had stopped going after other girls.

Everything was so sweet, until he let the intrusive thoughts in.

He started asking who the people you talked to were, walking you to classes you didn't have together during passing period, insisted on driving you to work after school, picking you up and dropping you off home.

Eventually his obsession turned violent, going after Jason Carver after finding you two together during a pep rally, a big misunderstanding that could have been avoided had he just asked what you were bringing to him.

Billy had become somewhat self aware of what he was doing, quickly becoming insecure, and hateful. But he couldn't help it, because he genuinely loved and cared for you, he wanted you all to himself, this sweet girl who let him in. He was good at guilt guiltriping you with that, telling you how much he loved you.

It made you feel restless, having to make sure you weren't talking to specific people he didn't like, making sure not to stare too long at some other guy, spending all your free time with him, letting him know that there was a test you had to make up before going to work. You felt like your life was being controlled, and inviting him over while no one was home was your biggest mistake.

Spring break had just started, it was a Saturday evening when Billy had received the call. Of course he'd pull up to his girlfriends house in under 10 minutes, especially when she gave the "It's important and serious.".

Billy was rapidly knocking on the door, yelling your name, and when you open to let him in, he can tell that something really is wrong.

You're spouting nonsense to him, being so annoying, talking about how he doesn't love you, and that he's obsessed with you. Part of which was really wrong, because Billy did love you. He just had this horrible way of showing it.

It doesn't take long for you to get him angry, he begins yelling back. Saying that Carver, Tommy H, and Smith deserved getting their asses flipped. To which you yell that he shouldn't go about fixing things with violence.

"I just can't do this."

And he snaps, eyes blurring, warm droplets falling to his neck, when he blinks he realizes that he's crying. And it has you shocked.

"What?" His voice is small and broken, it almost has you wanting to take back what you've said. But it's hard to do so, because he's scared you already.

"No, please no." He cries as he reached out to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body, another act that shocks you, he's never been one to initiate affection. He's almost cradling you, "Can't lose you, please don't."

You're not sure if it's an act, one to lure you in, but you take the bait anyway. Because while the ideas of what he's capable of to the extent of his love terrify you, you also remember that you do love him too. That he's never once laid a hand, or ever been physically abusive to you.

"I'm sorry Billy, I didn't mean it. It's just, you scare me sometimes!"

Anguish breaks into his body, when the realizations kick in. It's a thought that's etched into his mind, the fact that you've thought about leaving him. The fact that you even said it.

"I'm sorry baby, let me make it up to you please.. I promise I'll take care of you." His tone sends shivers down your spine, it's the one he always uses, it messes with you subconsciously and you never picked up on it.

You nod your head rapidly, breathing in deeply when Billy's teeth gently sink into the flesh on the side of your neck. Your panting reels him in further, letting him take full control of your body.

You don't even know how you ended up on your back, in your room, and on your bed, both you and Billy fully nude. Both your bodies decorated with bites and love marks. You're crying into the air as Billy's cock is shoved into your aching tight hole. You can feel every inch of him, to the point where you swear you feel his tip hit up snuggly against your cervix, and Billy swears he feels it too, because he begins a brutal pace. Mouth stealing a heated kiss from you. Between the messy kiss, your stuttering moan fills his ears.

"Fuuuuckkk, Billyyy! M'gonna cum!" You whimper, arms and legs wrapping around his body, pulling him to you, almost inviting him further inside you. He's reaching the deepest he can, he's never been or even felt so feral during sex. Both his hands were clenching harshly onto the pillow your head was rested on, he's using it as stability to continue thrusting so hard and fast, he feels like he's also about to cum.

"Yeah? Then cum, need to feel you all over me." The thought alone is enough to send you spiraling, a gush of liquid seeps out, drenching and covering his abdomen and cock in your cum. A long moan rips through you, your walls clamp so tightly around Billy that it only takes a couple more thrusts before his cock plunges into the deepest part of you.

"Fuuck! Babe'm gonna cum, cunt is all mine, gonna breed you so they know you're mine. You want that, don't you?" He groans into your ear, burying his face into your neck, your response is nonverbal, it's just you frantically nodding your head up and down before you decide to speak up.

"Yes! Please, Billy, want you to make me yours!" You babble, then it happens cum begins filling up your insides until you feel full. Billy's weight drops on you then, cum still spurting a few more times before he is absolutely spent.

You can feel him soften inside you, little bits of cum threatening to spill out. The feeling has you whimpering, it's then that Billy remembers he's still inside you. When he goes to lift himself up, a whine is heard from you.

"Billy.. no, don't go.. please. Wanna stay with you like this." You beg, your tired eyes droopy, your arms still holding him tightly.

"Not going anywhere baby. Love you so much." He slurs, high of sex, leaving kisses all over your face.

"I love you too, Billy.. so much.."

He had you right where he wanted you.

Those condoms he planned to poke holes into weren't really necessary after all.

[bonesandthebees]

hi hello wow it’s been nearly 2 weeks since ch 20 of stars dropped and I am still brainrotting about it on the daily. IN PARTICULAR the bit I can’t let go of is where Wilbur thinks that his being moved to to the personal wing has got to be either a power play to intimidate him, or a sign of fatherly [static noises as his brain shorts out].

(1) Wilbur is still clinging to the idea that if Phil has any political agenda whatsoever, then all of his kindness is entirely fake and manipulative. Which tbh is pretty understandable, like if Philza grabbed MY face and said “I always get what I want,” I would not trust him for another 500 years either. But also I’m increasingly convinced that Phil is somebody with inherently mixed motives, and the answer to “is this a power play or an honest attempt at emotional connection” is always gonna be “yes.” Idk, we’ll see.

(2) Wilbur, buddy,,,, this is definitely a power play but I do not think it’s aimed at you. I’m both cackling and crying at once, because of course Wilbur “I am worthless and also it’s all about me” Sóti would not consider that it could be remotely intimidating for Tommy to see Emperor Philza going “mine now” all over his only brother/advisor/ally. Again, I don’t think that’s the only thing Phil is doing, but it’s gotta be part of his political/interpersonal calculus, and ohhhhh I just yearn to know what’s going through Tommy’s head right now. He’s finally in charge of the negotiating, but at what cost??

Back to the topic of Phil’s motives (again)….tbh I spent a lot of this fic actively hoping that Phil would turn out to have an evil plot just so that Wilbur could get the sweet sweet validation of being correct. However, at this point I think my boy needs a hug more than he needs to be right, so I guess I’m once again hoping for Dadza? Insofar as this Phil is capable of being fatherly, which, I’m not at all sure about. I remain convinced that those early interactions really were cold blooded mind games, and I do think he has genuinely caught feelings by this point, but when did he start being genuine? How much of his interactions with Wilbur are *still* political maneuvering? At this point I’m no longer worried that Phil doesn’t care about Wilbur, but I’m terrified that he doesn’t care *enough* and that it’s all gonna fall apart under the stress of whatever disasters happen in act 4.

"sign of fatherly [static noises]" is literally the best way to describe wilbur's aversion to thinking too hard about phil's behavior towards him. he literally just shuts off that train of thought it's so funny

yeah wilbur does have pretty valid reason to still distrust phil given how, ahem, intense he was earlier in the story. but while I won't confirm or deny anything, I do think you'll want to pay attention to the chapter coming out tomorrow. it's definitely relevant to your theory :)

2. GOD LITERALLY he's so stupid and self-centered he does not even consider how all this shit has to come across to tommy. it's very sad almost, but just goes to show how damaging a mindset like wilbur's can be. also, uh, tommy's not having a fun time. that'll all you'll know for now.

again I can't confirm or deny anything, but I will reiterate my prior point for 1. pay attention to next chapter. there's a bit with wilbur and phil that I think will definitely help flesh out your theory a bit more. also, yeah, wilbur really does not need to be right at this point. tbh if he's proven right that might just break him more. he needs therapy more than anything jesus christ

anyway tysm for this ask it's a really good analysis and it made me very excited to read :D

[wrenqueenisboss]

DSMP Angsty Imagines - React to Your Death pt. 2 --- Bench Trio

Part 2 to my series of “dsmp boys react to your death”: Pronouns used: they/them (if mentioned) Warnings: cursing, fight scene (implied), description of wounds, death, grief, threatening, weapons  Note: this is strictly platonic as the bench trio members are all minors Words: 1.1+

The list: c!George c!Bench Trio - (you are currently on this post) c!Wilbur c!Dream c!Technoblade - (coming soon!)

Y/n, Tommy, Ranboo, and Tubbo had always been inseparable. Never was there a moment when any of the four weren’t together. Just a chill day around the server? You bet they were walking around and causing chaos, mischievous smiles upon their faces. One of them had some mental shit to deal with? You’d bet the other three were right there, soothing and distracting. There was a war? Hell yes. The four would be fighting side by side, back to back. If one member of their team stumbled, the others would pick up the slack. That’s just how they were. Until they couldn’t be.

You see, the world doesn’t wait. It doesn’t pause the chaos and cruelty and destruction just so four teenagers can grow up with a proper childhood. No one puts away their swords, lowers their fists, or settles arguments. That just isn’t how life works. Yeah, it’s fucking unfair. 

It’s unfair that Tubbo became president at such a young age, that Tommy had been manipulated and exiled, that Ranboo’s own mind had been taken over, that Y/n had been put through so much over the course of their life. It’s unfair that the best friends were forced to fight in a war. A war that shouldn’t have been going on in the first place.

They gathered their gear together, helped one another don their enchanted armor, polished their weapons as a team, flashed fake smiles in an effort to lighten the god-awful situation.

“Ya know,” Y/n said as they ran the whittling stone across the blade of their diamond sword. “I’m pretty sure we’ve been through worse.”

Ranboo barked a laugh, his smile brightening both his green and red eyes. “Nah, I’m pretty sure this is the worst.”

Tubbo gave Y/n a sympathetic smile as he placed his hand on Ranboo’s shoulder. The enderman hybrid paused for a moment. “Give Y/n a break. They’re trying to lighten the mood.”

“Thanks, Tub.”

Tommy looked up from his own sword with a frown. “There isn’t any fucking point in lightening the point. We’re in a really shitty situation and that’s that.”

It was true. None of them had any real experience with combat. Well- that isn’t exactly true. All four of them had lost at least one life to violence. They’d all tried to fight back, but they were too weak for it to have any effect. They still were. Against people like Dream and Technoblade - anybody,  really - they were at a huge disadvantage.

Tubbo did what he could to break the grim atmosphere. “The only way we can have any hope of making it out of this alive is if we stick together. We fight side by side and no one gets left behind.”

Y/n scoffed, even as their heart dropped to the pit of their stomach. “You all have a much greater chance of surviving. Remember, I'm on my last life.”

Everyone went silent. It wasn’t as if that was a surprise. They were all there when their friend had been pushed into the lava, when they’d lost their second life to blood loss a few years later. Everyone knew that Y/n was on their last life, but it was still scary to be reminded.

“We're not going to let you die, Y/n. And I’ll be damned if you give up and let yourself die,” Tommy’s words were forceful. Yes, they held a kind sentiment, but his tone was all business. That’s what happens when you’re forced into war way before you should.

Ranboo nodded. “We live together. We fight together. And if we have to, we’ll die together.”

Tubbo threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Goddammit! No one is dying!”

Oh, how wrong he would soon be.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Tommy, Ranboo, and Tubbo were right there when Y/n was struck down. Right there as the arrow pierced their chest, the tip sparkling red with their blood.

Tubbo let out a shrill scream of anguish, Ranboo froze and then dove to catch their body, Tommy’s gaze darkened to murderous malice as he let a whispered swear fall from his lips.

Y/n’s body was carried to a cave a few blocks away from the fighting. The three boys sitting around their still form, assessing the wound. Honestly, what was there to assess? Y/n had taken an arrow to the chest and died. That was it. It was cruel how simple their death was.

Ranboo squeezed their hand, heart breaking as he realized their warmth was steadily fading. “I can’t believe they’re actually dead,” he whispered hoarsely, voice cracking with emotion. He couldn’t cry though. Another one of the universe’s cruel curses.

Tubbo was already crying. His shoulders already shaking. “We were supposed to live together. We still had so much time. They still had so much time. And now... I guess they don’t.”

Tommy was pacing the cave anxiously. His blond hair, already messed up from the fighting, had been even more wrecked by him fervently running his fingers through it. 

Everyone looked like a mess. Clothes and uniforms were ripped and dirty. There were more than a few bloodstains. Skin was bruised (badly, in some places) and   sported a tapestry of cuts and scrapes that would later heal into thin scars. Not that anyone was new to scars.

The speed of Tommy’s pacing increased before he froze completely, only looking his friends in the eye for a fleeting heartbeat. His gaze returned to Y/n’s still body before flitting about again. “They’re not dead,” he muttered.

“What?” Tubbo’s voice shook as his tears fell.

“Y/n isn’t dead. They can’t be.”

Ranboo rose from his spot at the body’s side to comfort his distraught friend. “Tommy, you’re in denial. Y/n’s dead. They were killed-”

Tommy swatted away Ranboo’s hand before it could even connect with his shoulder. “They aren’t fucking dead!” he shouted. His head dropped forward as he stared at the ground. “Y/n promised. They wouldn’t break a promise like that.”

“Y/n didn’t have a choice.” 

Tommy was too busy forming some stupidly reckless plan in his head to actually hear what one of his friends had said. But Tubbo and Ranboo recognized that look in Tommy’s eyes. Recognized the gleam of mischief, the flash of lividity, the sparkle of determination.

And deep down they knew it would be useless to try and stop him, but they tried anyway.

“Tommy,” Tubbo began. “What you’re feeling is perfectly normal, Big man. It’s, like, the five stages of grief.”

“I don’t want to hear that therapy bullshit.” 

Ranboo tagged on, not letting Tommy protest more. “You’re already going through some of them right now. Denial and anger. Now you just-”

Tommy silenced them with a hand. “Fine. I’ve passed denial, I sure as hell am still angry, but they really should add another stage to that list.” He began walking towards the entrance of the cave, back to the fighting.

“Revenge.”

[thenotsohottopic]

Hello! If you‘re up to it, I was wondering if you could do a c!Tommy + younger sibling!Reader. Maybe they’re inseparable because they only have each other? Mostly fluff but angst works as well, and it can be headcanons or anything you want really. Thank you! Love your work :) -🌺 anon

No Longer A Burden

character(s): c!Tommy & sibling!reader

warning(s): swearing, gore

This took so long to write and I'm so sorry, but I hope you enjoy. TYSM for @dumbt0by for reading over this for me <3

Most people would say that hate was a strong word. That it should never be used and one could never truly hate another. That very statement though was total bullshit.

Well, that's what Tommy thought anyway. To him, hate wasn't a strong enough word to express his distaste for the green teletubby that "ran" the server.

I mean, how couldn't he hate Dream? He was a manipulative and toxic person and how dare, how dare, Dream even attempt to manipulate the one person he had left. No, he hadn't attempted to manipulate Y/n to the point where they couldn't tell the difference between whether they were in the wrong or if Dream was, he succeeded at making his other half feel that way.

Tommy may only be a few years older than Y/n, but the day they were born he made a promise to himself. A promise that he as an older brother is ashamed he couldn't keep. 

However, what pissed him off the most was the fact that that Wilbur, the man he used to look up to, worships Dream. The god damn audacity Wilbur had.

The blonde slammed his fist in the tree, his body violently shaking. He had to bite down on his lip to keep himself from yelling, the sun was still rising and he didn't want to wake someone up this early. Though, it was a tad late for that.

"Tommy?" A timid voice spoke from a few feet in front of him. "Tommy, what's wrong?"

The crunch of frosty morning grass got closer before he felt a cold hand touch the side of his face. "Talk to me."

Tommy's eyes rose to meet Y/n's, the second they even noticed he was looking at them he gave him a reassuring smile. That smile was enough to calm him just the slightest bit, but there was still a fire biting at his insides.

"It's-" The blonde started before his voice stopped. He remembered the last time he had lied to them, the memory almost making him flinch.

***

There was so much blood. It was splattered on the ground, on his hands and his clothes, the smell feeling almost toxic. The only reason his body was covered in the warm, disgusting red liquid, was because of the open wound he was trying to cover. It wasn't his but he wished it was. He really wished it was.

“Y/n?” Tommy asked, attempting to get their attention. “Y/n?” He spoke louder this time getting the younger teen that lay in his lap to look at him. Their e/c eyes were dropey but they were alive. Perhaps he can keep them alive. “Hey, can- can you talk to me?" 

Y/n blinked before attempting to say something, but no noises came out. Fear had laced its way into their face. "Y/n/nz you're gonna be fine. You'll be ok, I promise." He could feel their body relaxing, thinking that maybe he had calmed them. That was until he felt the hand they had on top on his had relaxed, it's grip weak. No their body wasn't relaxing- it was giving up. 

"No, hey stay awake," Tommy said, panic rising. Somehow they gave him a smile, it was faint, but it was there. That was their way of saying goodbye. "Don't you fucking dare! You're not allowed to die on me, you can do this. Cmon stay alive! Please!" 

It was too late. He saw his Y/n's eyes dull over, what used to be the slow up and down of their just had stopped. At first he was silent, his eyes trained on their now dead figure. He could still feel the warmth of it despite how he knew they weren't. His ha ds had tightened onto their clothes befor ehe dropped his head down onto their chest.

Then he screamed. It was loud and mournful, full of pain. He didn't even pay any mind to the small gathering of people. Tommy didn't feel the arms that wrapped around him, the tears he felt on his own body that weren't his. He couldn't feel anything but sorrow.

Tommy wasn't sure how long they had sat there crying, but he suddenly felt the tug on his torso. The blonde was suddenly being pulled away from their corpse, him now screaming and thrashing around. Trying his best to get out of the tight hold on his body.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" 

"Tommy!" A voice suddenly yelled in his ear. "Tommy, they're dead. There's nothing you can do." 

***

He winced. Guilt now eating at him instead of the anger. That anger was still there, Tommy was still angry that he made Y/n feel liek their death was entirely their own fault, but it was duller. It had been replaced with guilt. It was his fault they died that day, his younger sibling losing their first two lives because he ended up bringing them into his messes. Tommy couldn't help but think that he could've prevented both their deaths.

His mind was now racing, thinking of all the things he'd done wrong and could've done better. Should've done better.

Y/n had easily noted their brother's current state before grabbing Tommy's shaking hands, causing the boy to look at them. Y/n spoke louder this time, making sure that their voice was still gentle but it was heard. "Talk to me."

Tommy listened. He cried to them, finally letting the weight of his guilt lift the slightest bit. Explaining how he wss sorry, sorry for everything he'd done and the pain he caused them. Y/n listened, taking I'm every word and accumulating a proper response when he had stopped talking. Y/n could practically feel the guilt he had themselves, wishing they had asked him what was wrong earlier.

They've easily noticed how off he was sometimes but too afraid to ask him, the fear of bothering him causing them to stop. He barely ever told them anything, which despite how much Y/n wished they had found out earlier, they were happy he was talking to them now.

"Tommy, none of that was your fault." Y/n made sure to hold eye contact with him, their grip on his hands firm but comforting. "I chose to go with you all those times, remember? We both know no matter how hard you tried to stop me it wouldn't have worked. I'm stubborn like that, everyone knows this. Where you go I go, I'll always be by your side. Plus, you wouldn't have been able to prevent the loss of my second life, even if it went differently. Nothing was your fault, no matter how many people say it is, it wasn't."

Tommy sat silently, taking in their statement. Then,  the two embraced one another in a hug. Tommy crying into Y/n's shoulder. They didn't even notice the three figures who had seen the whole thing unfold from a distance.

"Should we check them?" Ranboo had asked Tubbo, the enderman hybrid concerned for his two friends.

Tubbo was about to reply no, saying that they should have their distance, for now, was quickly put down by the small pink blur that had run past them. Both of their eyes widened in panic as they saw that their son was inching closer and closer towards Y/n and Tommy.

Perhaps they should be more careful, Tubbo had thought as he too began to run.

The loud clomping of hooves had caught both Tommy's and Y/n's attention, the second the two had pulled away they felt small arms attempting to hug them followed by a small snort.

Micheal had brought a smile on Y/n's face, causing them to pick up the small piglin and sit him in their lap.

"Did you sense Tommy's sadness? Are you here to cheer uncle Tommy up?" Y/n cooed at the small being, Tommy soon giving a small smile as well.

"Tommyinnit doesn't get sad!" He declared in a joking manner, "Real men don't cry."

"Ya, whatever you say, Tommy," Y/n playfully rolled their eyes. 

The teen boy was happy, angry with some people, yes, but for the most part happy. He had Y/n here now, they weren't dead any.kre and they had responded. They're alive and he feels better having talked to them. He doesn't feel like a burden anymore, and he was happy.

I'm sorry for not posting for so long :,) hope all have been well :)

[helliontherapscallion]

Why Couldn’t it Have Been Me?

Part 2

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

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

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

Word count: 6,737

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, do enlighten us."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He narrowed his eyes, "make me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think he’s dead… He’s dead!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[fandomlit]

neutral, chap. 2 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary tommy learns a little bit more about your relationship with dream before spending his day with ghostbur, exploring neutral territory and learning of the war that sparked its creation.

warning mentions of war, violence, and injuries

previous | series masterlist | next

gif cred belongs to @chillcrafting

“you have a package, y/n!” ghostbur called out just as you placed tommy’s breakfast in front of him. the ghoul’s words went completely ignored by tommy, whose gaze was solely focused on the beautiful stack of pancakes placed in front of him.

y/n smiled to herself. “you can bring it in, bur. i know who it’s from.” she shuffled syrup and butter over to tommy just as ghostbur came in with the fateful package.

tommy was already half way through scarfing down the stack of pancakes when y/n managed to open the package, ghostbur gazing over her shoulder. she took out a note set atop of the contents.

she read aloud, “y/n, i’m sorry i haven’t properly stopped by in a while. my work requires much of my undivided attention right now, which i’m sure you understand. please work your magic for me with the clothes included, and i will be sure to drop by for them and a meal soon. there are a few extra gifts included for you. i hope tommy isn’t burdening you. signed dream.”

“i’m not a burden!” tommy spoke offendedly through a mouthful of pancakes.

“you’re right, tommy,” y/n hummed, handing him a napkin to wipe some syrup off of his chin. “you’re perfect company.” tommy smiled to himself as he finished off his stack of pancakes. y/n sighed to herself, “clay really knows how to ruin a good piece of clothing..”

“so you and dream are close, y/n?” tommy grumbled, picking up his glass of milk.

she shrugged. “as close as you can be with someone you barely see.” she placed his battered clothes to the side, sighing again when she saw the rest of the contents of the box. tommy didn’t realize this, continuing with his questions.

“i remember that he respected your territory when he stepped into it,” he recalled. “he was going to kill me, but then he realized he was in neutral.”

y/n nodded. “when i made claimed this territory as neutral, i made a deal with everyone: i would mend and tailor anything you needed as long as you respected my territory as neutral.” she held up a box of diamonds and a smaller box of netherite to tommy’s view, making his mouth drop open with surprise. y/n held out another napkin to him for the milk that had sputtered out of his open mouth while ghostbur laughed into his hand. “clay is the only one who still tries to pay me.”

“with netherite?!” tommy exclaimed, letting out a surprised laugh.

y/n shrugged, seemingly not phased by the generous gift. “the nether..” she shook her head, placing the valuable materials onto the table, “is not a place i like to go. and most of this will probably be going toward dream’s armor, anyway.” she sighed, placing the gifts back into the box and laying the tattered shirts on top of them. “trust me, he’s still too kind for his own good with these sorts of materials.”

“how much netherite does that man have?” ghostbur scoffed, looking at how much was contained in the box.

“probably quadruple that amount,” y/n chuckled. “he has far too much free time.”

“and he doesn’t even spend it with you,” ghostbur sighed, shaking his head with a goofy smile.

“i know!” y/n spoke sarcastically before laughing out. she closed the box and set it under the table. “i’ll deal with that later. do you want any more pancakes, tommy?”

“no, i’m stuffed,” the teen yawned. “but thank you.”

she nodded. “well, then how about ghostbur shows you around the territory today?”

the boys perked up immediately. “really?”

“yeah,” she laughed, taking tommy’s empty plate. “you two can take the day to explore and have fun. go be a kid, kid.”

tommy excitedly looked up to his ghost friend. “fancy a game of ultimate tag?”

“you’re gonna get crushed,” ghostbur laughed before they both ran out of the house, laughing. y/n smiled.

“oh! i should make them lunch..”

...

“how big is this place?” tommy laughed after a few rounds of tag. they had found their way to a pond in a forested area, tommy deciding his knee needed a break after all of their running. 

“it’s bigger than you think,” ghostbur assured, making sure to keep an appropriate distance from the water as they sat along the small shore. “y/n claimed the territory before l’manberg, so there really wasn’t any need for a turf war of any sorts for what she settled.”

“how long has she lived here?” tommy questioned.

ghostbur shrugged. “almost two years, i think. she’s made quite the life for herself since.” more to himself, he muttered, “god, has it really been that long since it happened?”

“since what happened?” tommy asked, leaning closer to his friend with sparkling, curious eyes.

ghostbur sighed, “i’ll admit, i don’t remember too much.. but i know there was a fight. one of the first wars of our time, and it was all over y/n.”

“they were fighting for her?” tommy spoke with confusion. “she’s not an object.”

“very good, tommy,” ghostbur prided, patting his friend on the shoulder. “you’re right, she’s not. that’s why y/n left her original home and sought to create neutral territory; to end the fighting and create a place where peace could reign. in exchange, she’d offer her goods and services.”

“so they were fighting over her for her skills,” tommy understood. ghostbur made a face. “..or not?”

“both sides obviously wanted her skills, but i think y/n tends to neglect the fact that they were all madly in love with her,” ghostbur sighed, shaking his head.

tommy raised his eyebrows. “a crime of passion, eh?” he joked, making them both laugh out before he asked, “who was it?”

“let me think,” ghostbur sighed, tapping his chin. “i know one was dream, but the other.. i think it was-”

“boys! lunch is ready when you are!”

tommy turned back to ghostbur. “well? who?”

ghostbur shook his head. “sorry, tommy, i don’t remember that far. that’s as much as i can tell you.”

tommy couldn’t help but fel disappointed, but he knew he couldn’t blame his friend. “that’s alright, ghostbur. let’s go get lunch before y/n comes looking for us.”

...

after lunch and an insistent rematch of tag, ghostbur and tommy made their way to the organized garden area.

“y/n grows anything you can imagine,” ghostbur bragged as tommy marveled as the fluorescent, beautifully natural area. “she’s been to nearly every biome to complete her garden.”

“you can grow cocoa?!” tommy exclaimed when he finally spotted y/n, who was swinging an axe at a low jungle tree.

“y/n found a way,” ghostbur shrugged, guiding tommy over to her. “hey, y/n!”

“hi, boys,” she smiled, plucking off the plant she had loosened from the tree. “was lunch good? im sorry i didn’t stay and chat.”

“it was delicious,” ghostbur complimented, tommy nodding in agreement as his mind drifted back to the mouth watering coleslaw and toasted sandwiches she had prepared.

“that’s good!” she smiled, placing the cocoa plant on the ground. “you boys may want to step back.” they did as told as y/n swung her axe over her head, splitting the cocoa clean in half and revealing the delicious beans inside of it. “voila!”

ghostbur clapped politely. “thank you,” y/n laughed, dropping her axe and picking up the split plant. “would you boys like a sample?”

“sure,” tommy shrugged, stepping forward with ghostbur. he picked out a few beans before popping them into his mouth. breaking through the semi-tough shell, the delicious, dark taste flooded his taste buds and made him nearly moan, as y/n’s food often did. he and ghostbur shared a look of satisfaction before he voiced, “oh, y/n.. they’re perfect.”

“that’s good,” she laughed before nudging her bucket closer to her and scooping the seeds out into it. “how has your day around the territory been?”

“entertaining,” tommy spoke before asking, “how did you get into gardening, y/n?”

y/n gave ghostbur a knowing smile before she answered the younger boy’s question, “i was tired of eating only meat and bread. gardening was a way to expand my diet to more than just carbs and proteins. also, it’s very calming.” they followed when she hiked up her bucket and moved to the next jungle tree.

“is it?” tommy questioned.

she affirmed with a nod. “it’s nice to be able to spend a day tending to things you made. the fruits of your own harvest are the sweetest, they say.” they watched as she knocked down another cocoa plant.

“they are,” tommy nodded solemnly, his mind drifting to a sadder, more familiar place. “that’s why i miss l’manberg.”

y/n was barely surprised by the boy’s open confession. she tossed her axe down again, going to place a hand on tommy’s shoulder. “i know you do, tommy, and i know it’s rough right now. but what we’re playing here is a waiting game; we’re waiting for a safe opportunity to get you home, and in the meantime, i’ll take care of you, kid.”

tommy offered you another nod and a smile. “we?”

y/n gave him a kind grin. “im going to help you as best as i can from where i am. and i know that’s not much from me, but i know that everyone deserves a home that they love. and you can’t get there alone, kid.”

“you’re right about that,” tommy sighed before looking into her kind eyes. “thank you, y/n. your help means a lot.”

she squeezed his shoulder. “of course, tommy. you and ghostbur go explore some more; try to keep your mind on the things you can control.” she picked her axe back up.

tommy looked to the pitying ghoul beside him before looking back to y/n, a new thought fresh in his mind. “can you teach me how to cook?”

y/n grinned as she lifted her axe over her head again. “of course i can, tommy.”

tommy smiled as she cracked open the plant. he looked back to ghostbur. “wanna go for a swim?” the ghost shot him a fearful look. “im kidding! im kidding, let’s go use some pigs for target practice.” they both began to walk off, chatting and giggling before tommy turned and called, “y/n!” she looked up attentively. “what’s for dinner?”

she smiled. “i was thinking ribs!”

tommy’s mouth watered at the thought. “oh my god, i can’t wait to learn how to cook..”

tag list!! @vanhakirja @victory-is-here @inkyynki @airiour @sylum @kiritokunuwu @221bee-slytherin @bllatrixcarpnter @soullesstaco @stxrryb1tch​ comment below or message me if you would like to be added <3

[griffintail]

I love all the parental stuff you write, it’s all so amazing!! And I may have been thinkin about it a lot while at work, and I originally wrote this idea/prompt thing down on some receipt paper, but anyway!!

Y’know how Dream manipulated Tommy during Exile? Well, how would Dream react if a similar thing happened to his own child? If his child had been taken from him somehow, and is made to believe that no one loved or cared about them, that they had to behave a certain way if they wanted any smidge of affection, etc.? Like the kid, when Dream’s gotten them back that is, is obviously touch starved and sleep deprived and so many other things, but they don’t mention any of it because they’d been explicitly told doing so wasn’t allowed?

About how many pieces would Dream’s heart shatter into? I must know.

-Signed Angsty Anon from a Fast Food Joint🍔🍟

That’s a mood, I have an actual notebook I have at work to write work stuff...I write more in it about my prompts than my work stuff. I hope it’s to your satisfaction!

Little Terror

Pairings: Parental Dream x F! Reader

Part 2

WARNINGS! : TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, IMPLIED ABUSED, MANIPULATION, BLOOD, IMPLIED VIOLENCE

DO NOT READ IF THESE MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE AND/OR CAUSE A TRIGGER!

       (Y/N) was Dream’s kid. Dream didn’t have to worry, that’s what he told himself.

        When she wanted to go with that…boy…he knew she’d beat the shit out of him if he got out of line. He taught her how to do that. She assured him though, there would be no need for that. They were in love and they’d be ok.

        He should have listened to his fucking instincts. He knew he should have.

        He found out by accident what was going on.

        Dream trusted his little girl, she’d be ok, she was strong…but she was still his little girl and George and Sapnap were about to break Dream’s neck if they heard one more time how Dream was worried.

        So.

        The three of them went to where the pair had moved out. Dream remembered letting his little princess move away.

        “I’ll be fine daddy.” She gave her sweet laugh as she slung her inventory bag on her shoulder. “Trent’s a good guy.”

        “I just wish you’d let me meet the boy.” Dream huffed, his mask on top of his head.

        “He lives so far away; I don’t want to force him to come all the way here and you need to keep everyone in check.” She grinned, a sparkle in her eye. “I’ll write, I promise. I know if I don’t Uncle George will cry.”

        Dream laughed quietly as he nodded. “Yeah, he would. Just, be careful out there, alright sweetheart?”

        (Y/N) put a hand on her sword. “I’m not the little terror for nothing.”

        It had been so sudden but she wanted to be close to this boy she had started dating. She hadn’t written though as of late and he had begun to worry when for a few months, it just didn’t come. That’s what sent them out with Eret in charge.

        “Come on, she’ll be fine.” Sapnap nudged him, hands in his pockets. “She’s your little terror.”

        Dream smiled lightly behind his mask. “Yeah. We’ll see there’s nothing…I just worry and I have been missing her.”

        Three-day travel on foot, they made it to the village where (Y/N) said this guy lived on the outskirts of. It wasn’t hard to find the larger house outside the village and they came up, Dream knocking on the door. It took a moment but the door opened, (Y/N) looking at him, but…it didn’t look like his little girl. Her eyes were dull, with no spark to them as bags were collected under them. She had no smile on her face either but everything looked perfect and trim about her.

        Her eyes went wide seeing Dream’s eyes as his mask was on the side of his face, sputtering.

        “You…I—You don’t trust me?” She questioned.

        Thousands of alarm bells were going off in his head and a thousand more went off after her words.

        “What? Of course, I do (Y/N).” He gave her a light smile. “I just missed my princess, so did Sapnap and George.” He motioned to the men behind him. “So, we came to surprise you, surprise.”

        She didn’t hold any sort of excitement in her eyes. Trent’s words echoed in her head as she watched the man in front of her.

        If he really loved you, he’d trust you to be ok with me. Right? Because I love you and I trust you.

        “I…I think it’s best if you guys leave.” She muttered.

        Dream stood there as Sapnap and George were looking at each other in shock.

        “Why? We came out here to see—” As he spoke Dream reach a hand over to put it on her shoulder but she flinched back from him and all movement and thought stopped.

        She flinched from him. Why would she flinch from him?

        Dream had seen men flinch from him before; Tommy, Wilbur, most of the L’Manberg people did after the war. But that was because he hurt them…

        “What happened?” Dream asked carefully.

        “I-I-I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She sputtered, her mind running rapidly.

        She couldn’t tell him, that was the number one rule!

        “(Y/N), it’s me. Dream, dad. I’m here.” He spoke carefully. “What, happened?”

        “What’s going on here?” Dream heard from behind him and (Y/N) shrank back behind the door slightly.

        Dream didn’t not like the picture he was making and the tall, lanky man appearing did not help matters. The man was slightly taller than Dream but Dream slipped on his mask as he was anything but intimidated.

        “You Trent?” Dreamed asked, stepping forward.

        Trent looked to (Y/N) and then back to the man coming towards him.

        “Yeah, what’s it to you?”

        “I’m her father and I want to know what the hell you’ve been doing with her?”

        Sapnap stood a few steps behind Dream as George stood by the door.

        “I have no idea what you’re talking—”

        Dream simply shoved the man and he fell over. The masked man stood over him, his hands on his hips.

        “What, did you do, to my little girl?”

        Trent tried to kick Dream’s leg but Dream was quick to react, sidestepping his foot and instead stepping on the other man’s chest and putting his sword point to his throat.

        “(Y/N).” Dream looked over at her, lifting his mask up enough to smile at her. “Go get your stuff, George will help you.”

        She hesitated by the door as George stepped towards her carefully.

        “Come on kid,” George said quietly to her and she nodded slowly.

        She walked inside, Dream sliding his mask on as he grinned sinisterly behind it as he tilted his head as he looked at the man under his foot.

        “Now, why don’t we have a little chat?” Dream laughed.

        George was very careful not to make too fast of movements after seeing her flinch at Dream. He helped her pack the few things she had; George was concerned as he felt like she had less than what she actually left with. As he gathered everything up, he also saw how little she had in the way of personal belonging, such as pictures. The most significate thing he didn’t see was her old mask and that concerned him greatly. The color-blind man was worried about what Dream would do.

        The pair came out, George carrying her bags to see Dream without his mask on, his hands in his hoodie pockets as Sapnap smirked next to him with no Trent in sight. George could spot the small bit of blood under the cuff of Dream’s sleeve. There was no blood on his weapons, so it was safe to assume he had used his actual hands and the other man was probably alive but he was never going to be the same.

        “Hey sweetheart, let’s go home.” Dream smiled gently as he nodded his head.

        Her hands twitched but she walked beside the three of her family members. Dream was on her right as George was on her left and Sapnap behind the group. The group of them walked in silence towards the Dream SMP land. As night started to drop, Sapnap and George made camp, and Dream and (Y/N) sat by the campfire.

        When the two other men were going for firewood, Dream looked as (Y/N), who was playing with the end of her shirt.

        “I don’t know what he did.” Dream said and she jumped slightly, making him frown deeply. “And you don’t have to tell me right away, but I’m here sweetheart. I’m never going to leave you alone again.”

        She hugged herself as she looked around at their surroundings, expecting Trent to come out of anywhere.

        “I’m not supposed to talk about it.” She whispered. “But did you come because you loved me?”

        “Of course, I did.” He assured her and she hugged herself tighter. “Can I hug you, kiddo?”

        “I-I-I-” She stuttered.

        He carefully scooted over and first put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened and Dream waited before he pulled her into a hug. With the hug, her entire body relaxed, having missed such a loving feeling. She started to sob and he pulled her into his lap and hugged her as tight as he could.

        His little girl, she was so broken. He didn’t know how that lanky, bitch boy managed to break her but he did. Dream ran a hand through her hair as he rocked the both of them as his heart was broken seeing his little girl like this.

        “It’s ok princess, I’ll make all this right.” He muttered. “I’m so sorry this happened, I’ll make it right.”

        He hated himself. He should have gone with her the first day she left. He should have done anything! He had to make this right now and he’d do everything in his power to bring her back. To make everything right.

 ....

        George and Sapnap came back seeing Dream holding a now sleeping (Y/N) as close as he could. Their friend looked so heartbroken as he held her.

        “I should have killed him.” Dream said. “No one else will ever get away with doing this to her. Are we clear?”

        The two other men shared a look before nodding to Dream.

        “Crystal.”

        Dream wouldn’t let this happen again and it was going to be a long time till he managed to fix his mistake.

[stellocchia]

So, I once made a post about c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship throughout season 1 (which you can find here), but today I was thinking, why not do the same for the Exile Arc?

There are some people that still don’t seem to have a comprehensive idea of what actually went down during that time (either because they joined the fandom afterwards or haven’t watched it at the time) so I’ll try to do that here. I’ll cover the first 2 streams here, and then continue in the next part because this is gonna be way too damn long otherwise...

As always I’ll be talking only about the characters and the roleplay from here on out and also I’ll be touching on some very heavy topics under the cut (such as gaslighting and abuse). Also this is gonna be another one of my Overly Long Analysis, so... you know... be warned of that.

I’ll be going through this vod by vod, so It will be so long... God why do I always do this to myself?

Let’s start with TommyInnit Is Exiled From The Dream SMP... which is the vod when Tommy actually get’s exiled.

So, the exile scene per se has been covered a 100 times over, but, right after Tubbo asking Dream to “please detain and excort Tommy out of my country” Dream yeets Tommy off the walls and then he immediately establishes the general idea of how it’ll be in exile: “I don’t think you wanna die Tommy. You need to- to listen to me”.

Also it is to be noted that in this “exile” time and time again Dream establishes arbitrary rules that were most certanly not meant in the initial sentence (which is why it’s much more of a kidnapping then an actual exile). Starting from before they even leave L’Manburg completely. In fact when they are still in the vc with the others and still just down from the obsidian walls, Tommy and Dream have this exchange:

“Do I have any time to speak words? What can...” “NO. NO. NO. NO!” “what the...” 

And then right after (just after leaving the vc):

“Do you have food?” “Yeah...” “Good, we’ll be going a long while still” “Am I not allowed- well surely- surely I’m only exiled from L’Manburg-” “Oh, no no no. You’re exiled from everywhere that’s been touched”

The sentence was only for him to be exiled from L’Manburg. Dream theoretically only had authority over the Greater Dream smp in any case, so how come immediately Tommy’s “sentence” becomes being exiled from “everywhere that has been touched”? What authority did Dream have to exile him from the Badlands? Or the Holy Grounds (considering those are widely considered neutral)?

This is from right after Ghostbur joins them:

“Well, I don’t- I don’t have to come with you” “Well, I mean, I’ll kill you” (...) "I don’t have to follow you! I don’t-” “Tommy! Then I’ll just kill you. What happens if I kill you?” “I die...”

Again, technically Tubbo only asked Dream to escort Tommy out of his country, not all the way to his place of exile. Tommy here is right, he is exiled, he is not supposed to have a jailor going with him, he is not supposed to be imprisoned. All he supposedly had to do was get off the lands he wasn’t allowed into and then he’d be good. Of course Dream’s plans were different there.

Also the trend of constantly undermining anything Tommy is feeling at any given moment sure doesn’t stop with the Exile Arc! 

“No, no! I don’t want to head anywhere! I wanna to go back! I wanna go back!” “Fine fine, we’ll head this way then. It’s fine, this is fine” “I don’t wanna go!” “Tommy come on...”

Honorable mention to Dream talking about the first time he exiled Tommy:

“Do you remember- this is actually funny! Do you remember the first time you ever joined the server? And uhm... you got exiled? By me?” “Yeah?” “It’s kinda like that, except now if you don’t listen you die”

And the conditioning begins all the way here, with Dream trying to decide Tommy’s emotions for him:

“Oh... I hate you” “*laughs* Okay Tommy, you don’t hate me” “No, no I definitely do” “Noooo, you don’t hate me”

Cue Dream just blowing up Tommy’s second Summer Home after he explained that it was supposed to be a safe haven for him and Tubbo. Also note that Dream is already getting rid of any mob attacking Tommy even if at this point he still had armour and weapons to defend himself. I talked about this before, but Dream does seem to want Tommy to be as dependent on him as he is on Tommy, which is why during exile he made him dependent on him for protection/safety and company and in prison for food. Also Ghostbur going: “I don’t think this man is very nice...”, thank you Ghostbur, I wish you could remember that, but you’re trying your best and I appreciate it...

“How long is- how long am I exiled for? When can I just go back?” “You can’t (...) if you go back you die”

Again, not Dream’s decision to make. Tubbo was the one exiling Tommy meaning that, if Tubbo actually had the decision power in that istance, Tubbo was the one who should have decided when he could come back. Also, again reiterating the point from before:

“I thought I was only banished from L’Manburg, that was the deal, not the entirety of the smp-” “Oh no. No you’re banished far enough where they don’t see you”

Also, a little look into Tommy’s mentality here:

“Tubbo said he wasn’t thinking with emotion, but with reason, but: what the fuck is the point if there isn’t any- any emotion?!”

This is honestly why he is Dream’s exact opposite and probably why he finds him fun, while Tubbo is irrelevant to him. Tommy thinks emotions should always be taken into account when making decisions and he values sentimentality over everything. Dream is the opposite, to him emotions are irrelevant and sentimentality is a weakness. Tubbo is a bit of both, which makes his clash of ideologies with Dream a lot less evident. 

Anyway, they get to the island and Dream builds Tommy a dirt shack for him to set his spawn into. And then there is the first istance of Dream taking all of Tommy’s stuff (building blocks and food included) and blowing it up. Which, again, is in no way an actual exile condition. Tommy is in jail basically. He got kidnapped and now he is in jail. Also right after that Dream gives them food and obsidian (of course acting like he is doing them a big favour, when he actually just created that need), which Tommy bromptly refuses, later burning the obsidian.

Also Dream’s parting words here are: “I’ll see you never”. Which couldn’t be less true! There is quite a bit more after that, of Tommy and Ghostbur settling in, finding a ruined portal with some armour and the village nearby and Techno visiting, but this is about c!Dream and c!Tommy and it’s already incredibly long as is, so maybe I’ll talk about everything else another time...

Onto the next one: Tommy Is Alone in Exile with Dream...

This stream starts off with Bad visiting Tommy to give him a few presents (which consist of Chirp, 2 diamonds, an enderchest, and almost dead diamond pick with silk touch, some coocked chicken some bones and a few stacks of oak wood logs). Also Tommy sees Logsteshire for the first time. Then Dream arrives and he is not happy about the present (something something, having other people giving Tommy useful stuff would make him less reliant on Dream). Also Bad seems to be slightly scared of Dream since he immediately tells Tommy that he should not say that any of the stuff he gave him was from him. Anyway, Dream destroys everything, but Tommy, with Bad’s help, manages to save Chirp. Here’s their exchange in this scene of course:

“Tommy?” “Yes! Yes?!” “Do you have uh... something you wanna put on the floor here?” “Yes *throws in 3 red concrete blocks*” “Anything else Tommy?” “No! You’re evil by the way, you’re an evil man-” “Come on... I know there is something else you wanna drop down here...” “No there-... *gives disk to Bad* I don’t reckon there is!” “Okay are you sure...?” “Yes!” “Alright... how about uh- how about your armour Tommy?” “No this is- I actually earned this myself” “I know you did! Just drop it in the hole Tommy” “No, no! You can’t just come and demand things from me! I’ve been exiled, I’ve done your shit! What- what do you mean-” “Tommy~” “What?” *Dream hits Tommy with an enchanted netherite axe* “Drop them down~” “Hooooo okay okay okay!”

So, in case anyone was wondering, physical abuse is there as well. And this is fully depicted as physical abuse. Like, normally, with this being Minecraft, it is implied that violence is generally inconsequential, here though c!Tommy reacts to it clearly in pain and shock. There is no doubt there. 

Sapnap arrives at this point as well. After that Dream makes it a point that Tommy cannot have the enderchast that Bad gave him because you can never have enough random arbitrary rules when kidnapping someone apparently! 

“Why are you here? Why are you here? What- what could you- what could you possibly want more from me? You’ve tortured me-” “I’m just! I’m just... keeping an eye on you Tommy” 

I’ve highlighted this because, considering the last time Dream was there he said he would never see Tommy again, Tommy’s confusion here is more then understandable. But of course Dream acts like it’s obvious that he would be there and that it’s necessary to make sure that Tommy is not “up to no good”. Also, another extremely important exchange: 

“You’ve exiled me you stupid manipulative green bastard!” “Yeah I know! I know! And you know why I did that” “Yes? Yes?” “No, you know why” “Why?” “Because you don’t listen to me ever. You’re the only person who doesn’t ever listen to me (...) listen, you are like a little annoying bug in my room and it pisses me off so I take you and I put you outside and that’s what I did. And now I’m just making sure that you stay outside”

So... the bullshit about this being about George’s house is out of the window by the first proper exile stream. Also Dream goes in the ever increasing list of villains who, if annoyed enough, will reveal all their evil plans to the protagonist. Like Tommy screaches enough and Dream will immediately go in evil monologuing mode...

“So what do you actually want from me then?” “Well nothing, I’m just here to talk to you. Tommy, we’re still friends ok? Just because I exiled you doesn’t mean we’re not friends-” “Just because I killed your friends and family doesn’t mean we can’t be bros...” “Well, it’s true!”

Ok so, it’s confirmed that Dream would still go on with this “friendship” facade even if he killed Tubbo or Wilbur then. Also:

*Tommy sees a creeper* then in the most monotone tone ever: “Help me” Dream sprinting from the other side of the cave: “TOMMY!”. I love this scene and I love this two dumbasses (and I mean the cc’s here). Also, to go back to the serious stuff: once again Dream is the one killing every single mob around Tommy because he blew up all his means for defence. Also Bad and Sapnap are still there as well, but Dream is always the on interveening (mostly because he is the one following Tommy around more closely). I’ll have a few of the more interesting quotes here afterwards until the next interesting scene:

“If I had 8 legs I would fuck you all up” “Oooh, no you wouldn’t” (Dream de-valuing Tommy’s anger once again)

“Stop following me” “NO” “Well okay then...” (honestly this was just funny...)

“Can I call you Wilbur? Or is it Ghostbur...?” “You can call me whatever you like” (for those saying that Ghostbur not correcting Tommy was weird)

“Alright Wilbur, what do you need an enderchest for? I might make an exception but-” “We- we need it so that we can access our stuff from the old world, the old world” “But not to go back” “How would we be able to go back with an enderchest?” “Well I don’t know maybe there is stuff in there that’s... better” “Tommy do you have anything that could get you to go back? In the enderchest?” “A boat? What’d you mean?” “Yeah to be honest we just need wood to get back, it’s not really-” 

Here we have Ghostbur poking holes in one of the new rules that Dream added that day. As a matter of fact, why would an enderchest be dangerous? Tommy mostly keeps sentimental stuff in there and a bit of iron. Still that’s the whole point: Dream is trying to get Tommy under his control so he needs to bring him to a point where he’ll listen to his orders even when they don’t make any actual sense. Also, btw, Dream doesn’t actually give them an enderchest after this exchange.

“Do you want to come with me Tommy? Do you want to come with me and visit the old library?” “No no no” “Yes! Yes please!” “No he wants to stay here with me” “I don’t. I definitely don’t” “He does! He’s just trying to be nice to you Wilbur. He’s trying to be nice to you” “I’m not Wilbur, I want to come with you” (way to gaslight an amnesiac ghost...)

“So how long is Tommy supposed to be here?” “Like a week?” “Oh, a week is not bad!” “*laughing* No he’s here forever” (Like goddamn, imagine if every minor griefing was punished with permanent exile!)

“M-maybe like- does Tommy gets like visitations? Like once every month he get’s to go to L’Manburg-” “No! No no no” “No visitation, huh?” “No visitation” (well, let’s thank Sapnap for trying...)

So, after this Tommy gets his plan to go through the Nether and find a quick way to and from L’Manburg to, perhaps, sneak in unnoticed at some points. Dream “allows” him here to go to the Nether (even though technically there is no reason why the exile would extend to there as well), so they get to work on fixing a ruined portal. “Did you know, I apparently blew up a nation and killed everyone” (thank God we have Ghostbur, he makes everything better). One thing I want to note though: at this point Tommy still kills the mobs attacking him when Dream is not stalking him and doing it for him, which is kind of nice. We are still at the first exile stream though...

“Can I go back for like an hour and see all my friends?” “No, they can come here though. I-I mean Tommy, I think- I think that someone could come here and visit you, but you can’t ever go back. Like I-I don’t have anything against people coming here and visiting you if they want to. They don’t HAVE to, but they can if they really want to” “Tommy think of it this way: whenever you’re in prison you can’t just go and visit your friends, but they can come and visit you” “They can come and visit you, yeah, that’s actually a very- that’s a perfect analogy”

I wonder why the best analogy for Tommy’s situation is not a f*cking exile analogy, but actual prison. Maybe because he is confined to one place, not allowed to keep any personal items and never allowed to go back? Also they actually get to Nether hub at this point and there is the famous scene with Tommy looking at the lava: 

A curious thing about this scene (aside from being a clear indication of the beginning of Tommy’s depressive spiral) is both that Dream didn’t seem to particularly care about Tommy dying up until now (and in the future as well) as long as he is the one to kill him. Meaning that he seemed fine with it as long as he had control over it. And yet at the end there he agrees with Tommy’s statement of “it’s never my time to die” which kinda makes me think that Dream by this point was already entirely set on his idea of Tommy needing to be alive for Dream to control the whole server. Tommy and Dream head back to Logstedshire after this scene.

*Tommy looks at the lava while standing very close to the edge* “I’ll go back through just to... check and see” *Dream hits Tommy away from the edge* “Come on” *Tommy goes back to the edge and Dream pushes him away again, this time covering the hole* “It’s not your time to die yet Tommy” “It’s never my time to die” “That’s true” 

“Home sweet home...” “Home sweet home. I think it’ll be good! People might visit you all the time, I mean, I can visit you! It’s- it’s actually fun to come here! It’s a little bit- it’s a change of scenery, you know?” “It’s not fun to be stuck here” “Well... you’re not ’stuck’ it’s your vacation home!” “Can I go back? I’m ready...” “No but you can leave this area, you can go somewhere else. This is just- like, I took you far away, you can go further if you want”

So, if anyone is wondering, this is not, in fact, Dream giving Tommy more freedom. Especially considering that when Tommy does leave Logstedshire later on Dream literally hunts him down, so no, that was never an option. What Dream is doing here is make himself sound benevolent by comparison by telling Tommy that the only other options he has are worse since they are even further away.

“I’m here for a good time, not for a long time” (more hints towards Tommy’s depressive spiral)

“Guys how do you know when it’s too much?” (and again)

“Can I go and see the tree?” “Tommy, you can’t go and see the tree” “Dream why don’t you let him just- it’s not in L’Manburg! Why don’t you let him just see the tree and then escort him back?” 

Ghostbur my beloved, pointing out holes in Dream’s rules all the time. Something tells me that’s the reason why Dream tried to kill him later on...

Anyway! This concludes this first post because it’s... Oh fuck this is REALLY long.... welp! I’ll make the others in the next few days! 

[earthfire-75]

You Send Me Flying

(Author’s notes: written with @nature-and-music, beta’ed by @lady-jane-revisited. Warnings: language, smut will come later)

I don't want to make a habit of this

But seeing you is like getting a fix

Every time I kid myself; I'll never do it again

Definition of love on a cliff

A lemming has no alternative

I want to die in your arms

That's my suicide wish

Chapter One:

I’m at a party with Vince where he’s playing with his band, Rock Candy. We had gone to school together, along with Tommy, who we hadn’t seen or heard from since graduation. That’s about to change.

I’m talking with some of the guests around me when the singer’s set is over and start to excuse myself so I can join him at the bar. I’m getting better about being more social, but sometimes it’s still a little overwhelming. The next thing I hear is a familiar voice greeting Vince. I turn around just in time to see him hugging Tommy. When they pull away, I jump up to hug the other man in a bear hug.

“Tommy! I’ve missed you!” then I smack his shoulder, hard. “Where the hell have you been?!”

“Ow,” Tommy whined, rubbing his shoulder. “Trying to start a band, man! Damn, you hit hard!” His eyes light up and he pulls a tape out of his jacket pocket. “That reminds me! Vince, we still need a singer,” Tommy says, handing the tape over. “Give it a listen, will ya?”

Vince hesitantly takes the tape, asking who else is in the band. Tommy happily points out the other two who came with him. I lean toward Tommy, getting a better look. Both men are cute, but I have a weak spot for blue eyes.

“Who’s the short one?” I ask.

“Dude, no way!” Tommy laughs. “He’s like… old!”

“He doesn’t look that old! Plus, you know I have a thing for blue eyes.” I whispered that last part so only Tommy and Vince could hear. I look over at them again and I see him looking at me with a raised eyebrow. Had he heard us anyway?

“Gross,” Tommy mutters before turning his attention back to Vince. “Just give the tape a listen, man. There’s a number on it where you can reach us.”

“Yeah, alright, I’ll listen to it tonight.”

After a quick goodbye, I couldn’t help myself, watching the “old man” walk away. Vince laughs beside me. “You finally found someone you’re willing to give it up for?”

“Shut up, Blondie!”

About a week later, after convincing Vince to actually listen to the tape, we went to audition. Well, he did, I went for moral support. His girlfriend came too, who acted like a bitch from the moment we got there. She completely ignores Nikki’s greeting and then just stands there looking at them, half in disgust. I shake the bassist's hand in formal greeting, as does Vince.

“Nikki Sixx,” he addresses with a wide smile, then pointing to the “old man” as he plugged in his guitar. “That’s Mick Mars right there.”

He nodded his head as he adjusted his guitar strap comfortably upon his shoulder. I gave him a little smile, but his focus was on his instrument, something that I could understand.

Nikki tapped on my shoulder, “There’s some beer in the fridge if you want some.”

I thanked him and as I headed towards the kitchen, I couldn’t help but overhear Vince asking what was the matter to his girlfriend. Her response was something along the lines of making sure that the rest of the guys were good enough to play with him. The silence in the apartment was so prevalent that one could hear a pin drop after such a remark. I rolled my eyes as I cracked open the bottle cap, making my way back to the living room. The first strum of Mick’s guitar made my heart stop for a split second, the same feeling intensified when Tommy and Nikki played along as well. The vocals from Vince that came in seconds later really boosted their sound. I rested my back against the wall as I heard them play. However things came to halt when Vince’s girl told them to stop, commenting that their music was “too heavy.”

“Hey, how about giving him an actual chance?!” I asked a little more angrily than I intended. Then I turned to Vince. “You got this.”

The boys talked amongst themselves about changing up the tuning and tempo, Nikki recommending to Vince about where he could really push it vocally. Next thing we knew, the four of them practically created an earthquake, their little session could have brought the roof down! We were shocked and amazed at how incredible they sounded. It was heavy and just the right amount of aggressive. I clapped after they completed their song and exclaimed that they sounded amazing!

Tommy was ecstatic as he stood up and gave Vince a high five, “Fuck yeah dude! You sound amazing!”

Nikki appeared as if the wheels in his head were turning, reflecting on what just occurred in the last few minutes, meanwhile Mick simply stood there as if nothing happened. Tommy ran to the fridge to grab everyone a celebratory drink.

Nikki groaned, “Dude, come on, we need to save those for later-”

Tommy ignored his unfinished remark as he passed the bottles around, “That was crazy, Vince you sounded awesome! And Mick, holy shit, I’ve never heard guitar playing like that before!”

Mick shrugged as he took a gulp of his drink, “Whatever, come on we have more to work on.” He kept his head down and strummed the strings, although I could see a little smile pulling at his lips. “Alright, what’s next Nikki?”

The bassist turned to the band and so they played another tune, this time even louder and heavier than the previous one. The banging from the annoyed neighbors downstairs could barely be heard, although I could definitely feel the pounding from below my feet. I couldn’t help but get lost in their sound as I watched them, especially the way Mick’s fingers would manipulate and pull at the strings. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn that he looked at me for a brief second. Regardless of what I thought I saw, the musicians played one more song, one that was a little slower, yet still could pack a punch musically and lyrically. Tommy would perform a little trick where he would twirl his drum sticks when the timing seemed right, Nikki would put his best foot forward as he plucked the strings of his bass, Vince would proceed to move his body the way a snake slithers across the grass, and Mick had loosened up a bit himself. The guitarist would lean forward, pointing the neck of his instrument away from him and mimicking a shooting- like motion.

Now it was time for a break, they all congregated in the kitchen and helped themselves to another round of drinks. Even Vince’s girlfriend was more or less slowly warming up to the rest of the band. Although I could see from the looks on Nikki’s and Mick’s faces that they weren’t the least bit interested in her being around them with the attitude she gave them earlier. Mick looked over to me and I could see that little smirk again, but he actually kept it this time.

“So what do you think? About the music?” he asked.

I smiled, “You guys sounded amazing. I’ve never heard anything like it before. I don’t even think the punk music scene sounds this hard.”

Nikki interjected, “Yeah, well that’s them, not us.”

“Is that your best attempt at a ‘thank you’ Nikki?” I pondered with a chuckle.

“Shut up,” he responded with a chortle.

Vince’s girlfriend took her man by the arm, “Vince, can you step outside for a second? I want to talk to you.”

The poor man had no choice but to follow, giving us a nod and to let us know that he’d be back shortly. Once she was out of sight, everyone let out a sigh of relief.

“Hate to be him,” Nikki mentioned, causing Tommy to snicker. He turned to me, “Listen, we got to practice a bit more, but you're welcome to stay if you want to.”

I smiled and nodded, “Cool man, yeah I’d like that.”

Tommy sat up on the countertop, dangling his long legs as he took another swig, “Cool! So where are we gonna play first? I hope it’s not gonna be a bunch of pool parties or gyms.”

I rested against the fridge, “I think you guys need a name first, Tommy.”

“We’re gonna work on that tonight, as soon as Vince gets his ass back here,” Nikki noted. “And hey, when we get our first gig, you can come too. But the bitch ain’t coming.”

We could all wholeheartedly agree on that matter.

@nature-and-music @lady-jane-revisited @mickmarstookmyheart @sophiazeppelinchick @gothicfuneralsblog @thesmokingguns

[dreamerstreamer]

Woke Up

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] After all this time, you’re not quite sure you know who Dream is, anymore.

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: inspired by the many confusing events that have recently occurred within the smp, most notably those surrounding dream’s true goals. title inspired by the song ‘woke up’ from adventure time :) this was written in an hour past midnight, but i hope it’s still enjoyable to you all!

Dream strode into his office with a groan, tearing his mask off his face as a particular tiredness seeped into his bones.

Escorting Tommy for his exile was a more arduous journey than he had originally thought. Having to row the both of them and row himself back across the ocean wasn’t exactly an easy task, but he wanted to make sure that he saw Tommy off himself—that he was certain he wasn’t going to get back that easily.

With a sigh, he strode over to his desk, setting his mask down on the familiar spruce wood. So far, so good. Everything was going according to plan. Next, all he had to do wa—

“Dream.”

He blinked, turning on his heel to see you standing in the open doorway. He sent you a soft smile, gesturing for you to come over. “[Y/N],” he said, leaning back against his desk, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

You took a single step inside, your lips pressed into a thin line. He raised a brow at you, intrigued by your expression. “[Y/N]?” he promoted once again. “What’s up?” 

Your hand curled into a fist by your side. “We need to talk.”

Something that almost felt like fear shot through Dream’s veins. That couldn’t be good.

Taking a second to steady himself, he sent you a crooked grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Ah,” he said with a teasing lilt, “the words every couple hopes they never have to hear.” He pushed a pen away from the edge of his desk, tilting his head at you with a him. “What’s up?”

When your frown only deepened at his lighthearted teasing, Dream knew something was up. “This isn’t exactly a laughing matter, Dream,” you muttered, toeing at the ground, “let alone a smiling one. As a matter of fact, I’d say this is the opposite of that.”

His expression grew serious at your words, and he tightened his jaw. “Well,” he said, his eyes scanning your face for any clues as to what you were about to say, “go for it. No point in holding back.”

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression betraying nothing. Then, you looked away, and something in Dream’s chest began to panic.

“I think we need to take a break.”

His heart came to a screeching halt in his chest.

“What?”

You swallowed, focusing your gaze down at the ground. “I said, I think we need to take a break.”

He shook his head at you, still sputtering. “No, I heard you. It’s just... why?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Did I do something?”

You rolled your eyes at him, deadpanning. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

He nearly gaped at your dismissive demeanour. “Seriously, [Y/N]. I need you to at least tell me why you’re saying all this.”

“Um—“ You gestured vaguely. “—have you been paying any attention to everything that’s been happening lately?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as his patience began trickling out. “You’re gonna need to be a bit more specific than 'everything’, [Y/N].”

Your gaze narrowed at him. “You want specific?” You leaned back against the wall, digging your hand into your pocket. “Then let me just start from the beginning.”

You took in a deep breath, feeling Dream’s eyes take in every movement you made. He never missed a single move you made—he was too smart for his own good—but it was at times like this you wished that wasn’t the case. You felt like a deer caught in headlights under his gaze, and you almost wanted to just shout, “Kidding! It’s just a prank!” just so that you wouldn’t have to keep going, but you knew that you couldn’t do that.

You had to talk about it.

“There’s a lot that you’ve done that I didn’t agree with,” you began, your voice low and quiet. Your mind flashed with images of Manberg’s destruction and Dream’s nearly crazed smile as he watched. 

“Hell,” you muttered, tightening your fist, “I still don’t agree with a lot of it.” You turned to face him, your gaze murky and dark. “But I stayed anyways. Do you know why?”

Dream blinked back at you, something akin to guilt swimming in his eyes. 

“Well?” you said, unrelenting grief digging into your chest. “Do you?”

His voice was meek when he spoke. “I’d like to think I do.”

Your gaze softened ever so slightly. “It’s because I love you, Dream. I really, really do.” You raised your hand, resting it over your heart. “Even now, my heart races when I even look at you. After all this time, you still give me butterflies.” Your fingers crumpled the fabric covering your skin, your nails nearly digging into your skin. “You mean a lot to me, you know that, right? I care about you a lot.”

“I know,” he whispered, clenching his jaw. “I do.”

Your expression was stony as your hand dropped from where it lay. “Then why doesn’t it feel like that?” you snapped.

He froze where he stood, staring at you in stunned silence. He couldn’t remember the last time you had ever spoken to him using that tone. To Sapnap, sure. But to him? It must have been ages.

“I don’t know about you,” you continued before he could even open his mouth, tapping your finger against your arm, “but to me at least, the only times you ever seem to tell me you love me are whenever you need to convince me of something.”

“No, I don’t,” he said abruptly, his eyebrows furrowing together in frustration. “I tell you I love you all the time!”

You stared at him, long and hard. “Oh, do you, now? Tell me, then. When was the last time you told me you loved me?”

Dream opened his mouth, wracking his mind for every instance he confessed how much he cared for you. There was that... No, that doesn’t count. Oh, that one time I... Wait, I never even said it that time. Well...

He felt the shame rise in him before he even thought about it, and he knew you could see it—you always knew how to read him best.

“See?” you murmured, a pained sigh escaping your lips. “You can’t. You just can’t. Because I’m right, aren’t I?”

Dream pursed his lips. “No,” he wanted to say, wanted to scream. “I love you, [Y/N], I really do.”

But he knew, deep down, that his words alone wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you.

When he didn’t say anything, you snapped again. “What?” you said. “Cat got your tongue? Have I hit every nail on the head? Am I really just another piece on your chessboard now? Just another one of your tools to manipulate as you please?”

He shook his head, gaze sincere. “You’re more to me than that, [Y/N]. You mean so much more than just that.”

A pang of hurt shot across your face, but you kept going. “Dream,” you continued, your nails scratching at your arm, “I said that I put up with a lot of the decisions you made, yeah? Because I loved you.”

He nodded, anxiety creeping up his spine. He didn’t like the way you used past tense in that sentence.

“Okay,” you said, nodding back at him. “Well, I think that some of those decisions are really crossing the line, now.”

His jaw dropped open. “What?” he repeated once more, feeling like a broken record player. “What are you saying?”

You sighed, each of your breaths absolutely teeming with exhaustion. “Look, Dream. Your help in the destruction of Manberg already crossed that line,” you said, shivering at the memory of the massive craters littering the once lavish terrain, “but I wanted to believe there was hope.”

Your gaze darkened. “Then you built those walls around L’Manberg, and you also dethroned George after making him king yourself. Now, you’ve even exiled Tommy! And what for?” Your gaze hardened. “For some discs? Some stupid music discs?”

You saw a flash of remorse shoot through his eyes, and you knew you hit the jackpot. “Oh, of course,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Of course it’s for the discs. Because everything’s for the discs, isn’t it? Isn’t that what you said?”

Dream frowned, but you didn’t miss his wince. “Not everything,” he said, his hands squeezing at his sides. “I didn’t dethrone George because of the discs or anything.”

You stared at him, disbelief flitting across your face. “Then why did you, huh?” you said, mockingly. “Why’d you dethrone George? Because he was having some fun?”

He swallowed, mouth dry. “It’s because I wanted to protect him. I wanted to keep him safe.” The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

“I can’t trust that!” you shouted, flinging your arms into the air. “How do I know you’re not just saying that, that you’re not just lying to my face like the dozens of others you’ve lied to?”

You almost couldn’t believe just how much pent up stress and anxiety you had building inside of you, the wave creating higher and higher with each passing second.

Turning on your heel, you stared hard down at the toes of your shoes, your teeth gnawing away at each other. “Maybe a few months ago, I would have believed you. But now?” You whirled, anguish soaking into your every bone. “Now, I’m not sure what to believe! Everything feels like some sick lie that you’ve just made up to trap us all in!” 

You pointed at him, shouting with every fibre of your being.

“I feel like I don’t even know you anymore!”

The silence that followed your words was absolutely deafening, piercing every block around you. It almost felt like it was stabbing into you the longer that you let it sit, so you opened your mouth.

“Clay,” you whispered, your heart squeezing so tightly in your chest you weren’t sure you were even breathing anymore. “Clay, who are you?”

His breath hitched in his throat. His name always sounded so lovely on your lips, even now, with your glassy eyes staring him down. His shoulders sank a fraction of a millimetre, and he took a step toward you. “[Y/N],” he said, his tone as gentle as a lamb prodding at a wolf, “you know me. You know who I am.“

“No,” you said suddenly, your voice deadly quiet. “I—“ You swallowed, tilting your head back to stare at the oak ceiling. “I don’t think I do. Not anymore.”

This wasn’t the man you fell in love with all those ages ago. That mischievous glint in his eyes had been replaced with something far more sinister, more calculating. His touch wasn’t comforting like it used to be—now, it almost stung, sending pinpricks of heat up your skin.

You weren’t in love with this Dream.

He reached a hand out toward you, something in his eyes cracking, “[Y/N], I—“

You held up a hand, and he fell silent. “I don’t want to hear it,” you whispered. “There’s nothing you can say that can change my mind, right now.”

For a few moments, the two of you simply stared at one another. You wondered what you looked to him. Did you seem angry? Sad? Disappointed? You hoped it was some mixture of all of them. His emerald eyes—oh, those stunning emerald eyes of his—swirled with an overwhelming sense of hurt. And yet, at the same time, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel empathy for him.

You wondered when those eyes began to feel so empty.

Turning away from him, you choked back the sob crawling up your throat. “I have to go,” you said so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. 

He didn’t try to stop you as you walked away from him, the clacking of your shoes against the wooden floorboards feeling like arrows in his chest. Slipping out the door, he could only stare in crippling, aching defeat as your figure vanished from view, an aching hole screaming in his chest.

In the distance, you lifted your sleeve to wipe away the tears blurring your vision with clouds of aching green and gold as you walked off.

This wasn’t a dream you were willing to keep coming back to.

It was time you woke up.

[sunlitmcgee]

teaser 2/? for HWHBH chapter 95!

TWS: Physical/mental/emotional abuse, nonconsensual underaged drug use(it’s a potion, so that’s how I’m counting it), threats of abuse/violence, themes of loneliness/fear of abandonment, intrusive thoughts, parental anxiety, vaguely described gore, implied consumption of raw meat. Themes of dissociation plus psychological horror. Manipulation, memory issues. Generally just exile-typical warnings across the whole board. Also descriptions of spider/insectoid traits for Shroud, but not in a horror context, so hopefully that’s okay!

Please let me know if I missed any! @proudfreakmetarusonniku I have you more of your boys. They damage me emotionally but well, that’s how we get catharsis sometimes. Teaser is below the cut!

 “Mah?” Shroud asked, tilting his head curiously.

 “Hi,” Tommy smiled.

 Shroud’s eyes were eight ruby orbs that sparkled like the rippling blue sea.

 “Mah…” He chittered. His mandibles poked out while he blinked but didn’t look away. His face was completely focused.

 You trust me, Tommy thought, horrified by what should’ve been a warm, tender revelation. You trust me. You love me because I’m your father. Because I’m your parent. You come to me for all the things you need and for help whenever you start to struggle. I love you, really, and I know that I would never do anything on purpose that could hurt you in any way…

 …but…

 Tommy swallowed. Shroud continued to stare as the water touched his little foot. He gasped. “Wah?”

 His eyes all turned to look down at the source of the sudden cold sensation. He looked very surprised. His eyes were all big and it was clear he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to think. Tommy imagined that he’d be very afraid to do this with anybody that wasn’t him.

 “Is it nice?” He asked into the ocean’s windy silence. “Does that feel good?”

 Shroud stopped and took a second to decide. “Mmmm….wah!”

 He kicked and sent up a tiny spray. He stopped. He considered. He lifted his foot and looked at it, took it all in, tracing the lines that marked the bits of fur that covered its wrinkled underside as he blinked and squinted into the blinding, bright sun. 

The fur was actually a bunch of tiny, silvery-colored hooks that could be used whenever he wanted to climb around and be a little goofball. His go-to method involved climbing onto the ceiling late at night before he let go and dropped right onto Tommy’s head. Oh, his boy…

 It wasn’t long before Shroud gave another kick. “Wah-ah! Wah-ah!”

 “Water?”

 Shroud nodded and tapped his mandibles with a pointed click. “Wah-er! Wahhhhh….er!”

 The next splash he sent up was a dazzling spray of iridescent silver. It peppered the sea that danced against Tommy’s waist, and he laughed, because really now.

 Why am I still so damn afraid of being anything like him?

 Turns out that the answer came rather easily.

 Because he ruined me.

 The sun was hot. Tommy’s skin started to itch.

~~~~~~

 “Are they really not coming?”

 “No, it doesn't look like it.”

 “Buh…but why? How?”

 “I guess they just decided not to show because they don’t care or whatever. They’d show up if they cared, Tommy. If they were your friends, they’d be here so we could have a bunch of fun. But they aren’t. So…guess that means that you’re stuck with me since I’m your only real friend ‘cause I’m the only one that’s here!”

 Tommy didn’t know what to say.

 Well…actually, he did.

 He wanted to say bitch, cunt, fuck, shut up, be quiet, don’t say that shit, you’re a liar, you’re lying, that’s all you ever do is lie and lie and lie and lie. He knew that all of that was what he wanted to shout out…but was it worth it, anymore?

 Was it ever worth it?

 Was he ever worth it?

 Tommy’s breath shook as he seized and looked towards the nearest patch of forest. “They…they didn’t come…”

 It sounded like a confession. Like surrender. Like finally giving in.

 Dream hummed a low, hollow drone. “Well, it’s not like they care about you anyway, Tommy…”

 That hurt.

 That made him get upset.

 “Sh-” he stopped, eyes already lowered to the sand that surrounded his feet as Dream’s head cocked with a barely interested tilt. “......I’m done….”

 He said it, and then he turned to mark back up towards the small white tent because he was done with today. He stopped when Dream called out.

 “Tommy!”

 He froze midstep.

 “W…what…?” He asked, vision blurring. He turned his head and felt his muscles wind up tightly at the sight of a hulking, deep green blur. 

 “Stay here,” Dream’s voice ordered. It was said like a suggestion, but Tommy knew it was an order. “Don’t get all pouty just ‘cause you didn’t get your way. C’mere.”

 He beckoned.

 Tommy followed like a dog. Head bowed, shoulders hunched, legs weak as his knees began to wobble and limped his way over. He felt like a dog with a limp that had gone all lame. Useless. Better off dead.

 “Dream…” he started in a familiar, high-pitched creak. He whined. He was in the mood to whine, what with it being a proper blood awful day. “Dream, I just wanted them to come…”

 Dream snapped and shut him up with a single pointed glare. “And they didn’t,” he hissed, the words dark and dreadfully sharp. “They didn’t come. They clearly don’t give a shit. If they cared about you at all, Tommy, then I think they’d probably be here everyday instead of coming by one-by-one once a week to give you some junk or some shit. And you know they don’t give it to you because they want you to take it. You’re a trash can for them. You’re the trash can, this is your dump, and they’re a bunch a fucking losers who think they’re too good for you since you’ve gone and gotten yourself all dirty! Ya get all of that? Need me to spell it out, need me to hammer it all in?”

 He reached for his axe as his voice hitched with something horrific. Tommy scrambled to comply by shaking his head so hard he was sure he gave himself a week’s worth of whiplash. He shouted, words thin as he drew away his fully exposed neck. “N-NO!”

 “Then stop….bitching…”

 Dream relaxed and led Tommy away from the shore.

 They headed back towards the beach party set-up and took their respective spots. Tommy at the front as the table’s lead head, and Dream right next to him across the chair that was meant for…for…for whoever.

 He doesn’t care.

 He didn’t come.

 His breath caught when he remembered something from before. “Di…didn’t you…didn’t you say…Dream, didn’t you say, earlier, when I first gave you all the invites. Didn’t you say you didn’t give Tubbo’s to Ghostbur a-and that you gave it to him yourself? Like…like in person…?”

 Dream nodded. He seemed completely unaware of how Tommy’s entire world shattered.

 “Yeah. I gave it to him at the end of my last visit.”

 Tommy’s fingers twitched as his eyes began to glaze. He couldn't see with the world phasing out of focus. It was all just a blur. Just an off-set mix of gray and emerald green. And white…gods. He fucking hated that stupid mask.

 “And…did he……”

 Dream shrugged, already uninterested. “He said that he looked forward to it. But welp. Guess not.”

 Tommy felt sick. He wanted to go back to bed. He didn’t want to eat cake or deal with any stupid balloons. Not anymore.

 But Dream shrugged, unbothered by any of it. He scooted his chair back to get up so he stood at his full height. He looked at Tommy as the boy shrank and doubled in, knees drawn up as his hands drifted to grip at his thin, boney legs. He studied him for what Tommy swore was barely a full minute, but by the time he returned after he left to go back to the ender chest, his body was so cold and his fingers so numb. He couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel any of it.

 It only got worse when Dream handed him an oddly colored potion.

 “Drink this.”

 Tommy blinked.

 “Why?”

 The bottle was rammed into his chest so hard it was a miracle it didn’t break. Something did break, however, inside of Tommy as his hair was once again gripped and harshly yanked by a metal-gloved hand.

 “Drink it,” Dream hissed. “Drink it, and I promise you’ll feel better once it kicks in. If you don’t, you’re not gonna get your cake. Alright? Here.”

 Tommy took it. It tasted weird. Bitter, bad, sour. Like raw medicine, but somehow even worse. He swallowed it down in pained, forced gulps. Once it was finished, his face started to feel weirdly numb. Tingly. Like bugs, crawling all over. And inside.

Dream didn’t comment on the way he began to go limp. He just took the bottle and tossed it lazily over, and when it smashed, Tommy jumped up with a sudden jolt and looked at him with wide, stormy-blue pools.

 “Dream…?”

 “Here!” Dream’s voice was as light as a bright summer’s dawn as he handed him a shiny white plate with a big, chocolate cake slice on top.

 It looked really good!

 Had lots of icing and a shiny red cherry!

 There was…something there? Something reddish and a little bit pink? It was crammed inside the middle of the giant, dark brown cake where it peeked out from among the richly colored crumbs. The cake smelled fresh and like thick milk cream plus rich, dark chocolate. The red thing had a smell, too. It was weird. Kind of meaty.

 But Tommy ignored it.

 He was so hungry.

 The potion still tasted a little bitter. It tasted like swiftness from the faintly sugary aftertaste. There was something else there. Something sour. Maybe a bit of strength that’d been sprinkled in to give it that extra kick. It tasted horrible, but oh, it could’ve been worse.

 Today hadn’t been as good as he’d hoped it would’ve gone. No one came. Nobody but Dream.

 But…that was fine, wasn’t it? Yeah. In hindsight, he should’ve expected to be left alone and out in the rain. His friends back in L’manburg didn’t need him. They didn’t care. He wasn’t wanted. Not by them, assholes and wrongins’. They didn’t want him now that he was all weird and sick. The only one who did was Dream, and Dream was right here!

 He took a plastic fork and felt his numb face spread.

 “Thank you!” His voice was slightly hoarse. But that didn’t matter. Dream didn’t care, and just nodded as Tommy smiled.

 “You’re welcome, birthday boy.”

 Tommy liked that. He liked being the birthday boy.

 He loved to eat his special cake. He loved his party. He loved his best friend.

 He loved Dream.

[peninkwrites]

Wake up. Ch 5 of ?

Wilbur gets rewarded. Tommy gets a fancy rock.

(CW: referenced violence and nongraphic mutilation. And the usual manipulation and horror. y'know. And smoking)

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 4

Ch 6

~

Tommy doesn’t scream; he doesn’t back away or run.  He pulls the book out from its spot tucked underneath the mattress.

He opens to the first page.

“Conscious again, mild pain.  Hard to gauge intensity since he whines so much anyway.

Saw Wilbur.  Said it was ‘familiar’, will investigate further.”

He snaps it shut, breathing shakily.  With desperate, fumbling hands he flips to the most recent page.  Something falls from between the pages, but he’s distracted by the new entry.

“He’s moved now.  He took my advice to heart and moved back to the Mainlands.  In this pathetic attempt at a fortress.  I saw the pawn talking to a bunch of other people.  It’s almost endearing how confident they are.  Like numbers matter in this game.  We know better than that, don’t we, Tommy?”

It’s like the room gets darker, colder, as he stares at his own name.  Tommy can only continue, transfixed by it despite every word being poison.

“It doesn’t matter who you surround yourself with, who you decide to use as a shield, their sacrifices don’t change that I still have Wilbur.

I told you before, Tommy.  It’s rude to go through someone else’s things.  Didn’t we already do this part?  You read my journal, you pay for it.  But I’ll allow it this time.  This is a helpful way for us to communicate, right?  That’s why you’ve been reading it.  You want answers.  Answers only I can give.

The clock is ticking.  But hey.  Now you and your brother match.  I couldn’t give you the whole thing with the journal.  But this gets the message across, I hope.  You know it’s only going to get worse from here.  See you soon.  For Wilbur’s sake, right?”

Tommy stares at the page, fixated, because it’s easier than doing the next logical step.  Something had fallen from the pages.  Tommy caves.  He has to see it.  He has to know.  He has to get on his knees, crouching down to look under the edge of the bed.  No white mask stares back at him, but he sees it.  A tiny, bloody thing.  Tommy hesitates for only a moment, hand trembling, before he grabs it and pulls it back into the light.

“But hey.  Now you and your brother match.”

It’s a fingernail.  Tommy drops it, falling back to the floor, putting as much distance between him and it as possible until he hits the wall, he stares at it on the ground, eyes glassy and hollow, the only indication of any feeling is his chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing.  Dream not giving him the whole thing is a weak mercy.  Tommy looks away only to stare at his left hand.  At the absence.  He balls his hand into a fist and fixates on the wrongness of it.

Wilbur can’t play the guitar anymore.  Maybe that shouldn’t change anything but it does.  For Tommy, it changes everything.

“Tommy, you alright?” Tubbo knows something is wrong the moment he enters.  “Wait… that’s– No, no fucking way that’s not–” Tubbo bottles his emotions, his bafflement, and focuses on the task at hand.  “Tommy, is it?  Just nod for me.”

Tommy nods.

“Okay, okay, fuck– Okay, Tommy, he is trying to psych you out.  He could’ve made a copy.  He could’ve easily made a copy, alright?” Tubbo is typing furiously on his comm.

“Yeah, it’s a copy,” Tommy says dully.  “I know.  Doesn’t got my blood in it.”  A pause.  “Scary as shit either way.”

“I know, Tommy,” Tubbo sighs.  “Fuck– Are you gonna be okay if I leave you here for a minute?”

Tommy nods.  He’s still staring at the floor.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be right back.  I’ll– I’ll leave Punz, he was supposed to take the first shift tonight,” with that, Tubbo flees the room.  That journal had appeared in the room within the last half hour.  Tubbo is sure of it.  That means Dream could still be on the mainlands.

Tommy nods again, even though Tubbo has already left.

How the fuck are you gonna tell him?

You’re not.

Tommy feels like his mind is buzzing, full of empty static.

“Tommy?” Punz quickly enters the room.  “Tubbo said– Well, I don’t really know what’s going on, but I’m supposed to stay with you.”

Tommy glances up at him dully.  “You getting paid for this, are you, Punz?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was altruism?”

“The fuck is that?”

Punz laughs before mulling it over.  “I already got a flat rate from a job that fell through.  I was supposed to follow Dream when they let him out of the prison.  They never came to collect the payment, so.  This is me… earning that, I guess.”

Tommy scoffs.  “Pretty generous of you, aye, Punz?”

“I’m a mercenary, not a thief,” Punz frowns, as if insulted, despite that distinction being a lie.  “I earn my pay.  And that’s what I’m doing here,” he does a sweep of the room, silent except for the bubbling of the stasis chambers against the far wall.

“Must be nice,” Tommy mutters.

“What?”

“To not have people you have to protect without a paycheck,” Tommy doesn’t care if it’s cold.  He’s had a rough fucking night.

Punz doesn’t respond for a moment, the silence stretching and Tommy wondering if he’d pissed off his guard enough that he’d leave him.  “Yeah.  Definitely makes things easier.”  Punz does not sound like he’s being sarcastic.

Tubbo returns within the hour, out of breath and irritated.  Tommy looks at him without much hope.  Tubbo just shakes his head.  “Thanks for staying, Punz, but I doubt we’ll being doing much sleeping for a while.”

“I can stay,” Punz offers.  “I’m supposed to be here until 2.”

“Then Phil takes over, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, but–”

“Trust me, I won’t be sleeping until then.  If I sleep at all.  You should go get some rest, man.  I’m sure Sapnap will want you to help patrol tomorrow.”

Punz still looks reluctant, but eventually he leaves.

“You alright, bossman?” Now Tubbo gives Tommy his full attention, following his gaze to the journal still cast aside on the floor.  “Do you want to burn that one too?”

Tommy shrugs.  He’s been doing a lot of thinking.  Pragmatic things, mostly.  “Tubbo, you know the compasses Ghostbur made us?”

“What?  Yeah?” Tubbo blinks, surprised.

“You lost yours, yeah?”

“What’s this all about, Tommy?” Tubbo looks nervous.  He knows Tommy too well.

“I was just thinking, I think I want one connected to me again.”

“What? Why?” Tubbo is sharp.  “That’s– That’s dangerous, Tommy, you said it yourself, if he got a compass–”

“But he won’t,” Tommy says firmly.  “It’ll stay with you, alright?  You’ll keep it in your enderchest in case of emergencies.  That’s all.  I want to know you can find me, Tubbo.”

Tubbo stares at him, worry softening into understanding.  “Okay, Tommy.  Okay, tomorrow we can… well, I guess we can’t ask Ghostbur but… but what if when Phil comes over later we ask him?  That seems like something he’d know about, right?”

Tommy nods.  “I don’t care what we do with it,” he still stares at the journal.  “I mean, apparently it doesn’t matter if we burn it, right?”

“I am so sorry, Tommy.  I don’t– I don’t know how the fuck he got in,” Tubbo is so tired of this.

“People have been coming and going all day, he could’ve snuck in any time with an invis pot,” Tommy waves him off.

“No, Tommy,” Tubbo says more intently.  “I searched the room not even an hour before you found it.  He was actually here recently.”

“Oh,” Tommy buries a shudder.  He shakes his head.  “Nope, nope I don’t wanna think about that– I can’t keep thinking about that– Fuck–”

“Sorry, Tommy, I– We can talk about something else!” Tubbo says quickly.

“Like what?  The weather?  I know! How about your pet bees?” Tommy says with a sharp, barking laugh.

“Oy!  Uncalled for,” Tubbo says with little malice.  A pause, sobriety returning.  “We’re gonna find him, Tommy.  We’ll figure this out.”

Tommy nods.  “I know you’re trying.”

Neither of them feel reassured.

Phil knows a little about Lodestones.  He exhales air from his cheeks, already daunted by the question.  It is 2 am to be fair.  “Well, normally lodestones are bigger.  The smaller they get, they have to be intricate, so it’s harder to work with.  I know the ones Ghostbur had set up– I dunno how he did it, the runes on the compass found you both, not a lodestone.  He could’ve… used your hair for all I know.  I’ve never seen anything like it, and that’s saying something for me, and… well, we can’t ask him.”

That turns their planning into a more somber dread.

“What’s… What’s all this for, then?” Phil is quick to change the subject.

“I want Tubbo to be able to find me.  In case I… in case I get taken,” Tommy glances to Tubbo.

“Ah.  Right.  Got it,” Phil isn’t sure how to reply to that, however fair a concern it is.  “Well, in that case, your best bet is to make the smallest lodestone you can.  Maybe… fuck, I dunno, maybe Sam would be able to?  He does careful redstone shit.”

“Or maybe Bad,” Tubbo points out.  “He does all sorts of enchanting.”

“If it’s for… if it’s so Tubbo can find you, you’ll need it fuckin’ tiny, alright?  Somewhere you can hide it.  Maybe in your shoe?” Phil offers.

Tommy shakes his head.  “He takes my shoes, remember?  I was thinking… maybe on a necklace.  Or I could find a way to clip it behind my ear, braid it into my hair, maybe put it on one of my teeth?”

“Oh, that would have to be tiny,” Phil says.  “And that would not be comfortable, mate.”

“Well, I was thinking we could treat it like a cyanide pill,” Tommy says irritably.  “I could keep it in my pocket and put it in my mouth at the first fucking sign of trouble.”

“Well, I worry if you keep it in your mouth you’d give yourself away trying to talk,” Phil points out.  “Oh!  What about an earring?  Would he question that?”

Tubbo shifts uneasily.  He doesn’t like that this conversation is sounding less and less hypothetical.

“I don’t know,” Tommy frowns.  “I don’t actually think he’d take it out?  He’d probably find a way to drag me around by my ear,” Tommy says with a bitter laugh.  Phil and Tubbo exchange a look and Tommy is yet again reminded of how his version of normal is an evil thing.

“Okay, and we’d probably have to make it an earring back, because he might recognize something like that,” Tubbo is quick to push on.  He doesn’t like it, but he’ll help if it’ll make Tommy feel better.  “And piercing your ear– You sure you want to commit to something like that?”

“Why not?  It can always heal.”  Tommy turns back to Phil.  “Do you think we could get one that size?  Like… like a marble size or something?” Tommy asks.

“Maybe.  I mean, it would take a really fuckin’ careful hand,” Phil says.  “And it would be heavy.  I dunno, it might weigh too much.”

“I could sew it into a shirt, too.  Dream won’t give a shit if I wear the same bloody clothes.”

“But you’d have to wear the same shirt every day, Tommy.  On the off chance he’ll get you,” Tubbo points out.

“Yeah, right,” Tommy sounds almost dismissive, growing irritated.  “We could always replace a tooth with it.  Have it stuck on like a crown so I’ll be able to talk with it.”

“Tommy!” Tubbo says it like Tommy has just said something awful.

“What?!” Tommy gets defensive immediately, oblivious as ever.

“We’re not ripping out your fucking teeth!” Tubbo snaps.

“Fine– Fine, we won’t, then!” Tommy folds his arms over his chest, pouting.  Tommy stares at Phil.  He hasn’t told him.  He feels like he should.  “Dream wants me back, you know.”

Phil looks unsure.  “Er, yeah.  I know.  That’s why I’m here.”

“And he has Wilbur.”

Phil’s confusion turns to something wearier.  “Yeah.  I know.”

“He’s hurting him.  And he’s gonna keep hurting him until I go back to him,” Tommy says it like a challenge.

“Jesus Christ, Tommy, we’re not serving you up on a platter on the off chance he’ll actually give us Wil back!” Phil looks horrified by the thought.

Tommy is actually disappointed.  He’d been hoping for some backup.

“I think I’m ready to sleep now,” Tommy says.

“I’ll keep watch,” Phil nods.  “You should get some sleep too, Tubbo.  You’ll be no good to us tomorrow if you’re half asleep, alright?”

Tubbo reluctantly agrees.

Tommy curls up in a ball on his bed, staring at the wooden walls.  He’s in a fortress, with a guard watching over him and a way to summon an army, his best friend who would die or kill to protect him, and still Tommy knows he is not safe.  So he doesn’t sleep.  Not for a long time, at least.  Instead he lays awake and plans ahead.  Maybe not all hope is lost, but it’s something close to that.

The next day Tommy has a goal.  It won’t be an easy one to accomplish.  His guard is constant, Tubbo looking like he’s scared if he’ll blink Tommy will disappear.  Tommy needs someone who isn’t protecting him because they care.  Maybe Tommy should feel grateful that that’s hard to come by, but it’s not like their caring changes anything.

“I’ll be fine, Tubbo.  If I stay in the Mainlands for another minute I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” Tommy rolls his eyes, playing up his ease for Tubbo’s benefit, acting like his hands wouldn’t be shaking if it weren’t for them being buried in his pockets.

“You can’t go alone,” Tubbo says firmly.

“I know, I know!  Can you– Can you not take it personally if I say I need a break from you?” Tommy knows he’s being indelicate, but it’s the only way to unglue him.  “And I won’t be alone!  I’m going on patrol, with Punz!”

“Is that really a good idea?” Tubbo continues to fuss.

“Christ– yes, Tubbo.  Me getting some fresh air with a mercenary watching my back is a fine idea,” Tommy sighs dramatically.

“And Punz said okay to this?” Tubbo pushes.

“Yes!  I wouldn’t be going if he didn’t,” Tommy says.  “Oy!  Punz!  You ready to go?”

Punz turns away from Sapnap, looking amused if not weary.  “Yeah.  Don’t worry, Tubbo.  He’ll be safe with me.  Besides, Dream hasn’t been spotted in… forever.  Seems like the guy has taken to only working at night, so.  I think it’ll be a quiet day.”

“Come on, Tubbo.  You can’t stop me from doing what I want.  It’d be unethical,” Tommy enunciates every syllable.

That’s the final straw.  “Right, fine, but– But could please message me every so often?”

“Can do, Big T,” Tommy nods.  “I just… I just gotta get out for a bit, you understand, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do,” Tubbo says reluctantly.  “Sorry, bossman.  I just worry.  I don’t know how you feel comfortable wandering off away from everyone, and I guess I– I wanted you at home because I want to know you’re safe,” Tubbo tries to explain, not to justify his harsh words, but to let Tommy know it wasn’t supposed to be a demand.  He’s just scared.

“We can’t know that, Tubbo.  He could get me anywhere, at least this way I'm somewhere I want to be,” Tommy says.  He sounds too calm.  He’s still not looking Tubbo in the eye.  “I’m tired of waiting around and nothing happening.  I’ve got to do something.”

Tubbo nods.  “Okay.  Okay, Tommy.  I… I’m glad you are.  I dunno how I was such a dick about this, when I should be proud of you– I am proud of you,” he says firmly.  “I want you to be able to do things and to… not be so scared, right?”

Tommy manages a weak smile that neither of them quite believe, but it’s an attempt.  “Right.  I’ll see you later, okay?”  Tommy means it, as he leaves Tubbo’s side.  “It’ll be slow going, Punz.  I’m not as spry as I used to be,” Tommy gestures to his cane.

“Yeah, I know,” Punz says.  “That’s why I asked Sapnap if we could take the Western track.  The prime path just past Eret’s castle.  It’s away from the mainlands, easy to walk, should be good, right?”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” Tommy teases.  Tommy waits until they’re past Eret’s castle to bring it up.  “I got a favor to ask you, Punz.”

“More than me letting you tag along?” Punz gives him a look.

“Well, yeah, but– But I can pay you for it,” Tommy says quickly.  “I’ve got 16 diamonds on me.  And any of my valuables, whatever, I don’t want them.  This is– This is more important.”

Punz stops, watching him with something that, if Tommy didn’t know any better, would mistake for concern.  “What is it, Tommy?”

Tommy hesitates now.  If he says this, there’s no going back.  Worst case scenario, Punz tells Tubbo immediately and he’s never left alone again.  Other worst case scenario, Punz does as he asks.  “I need you to turn away.  For– For a half hour, I am gonna… I’m gonna scamper on off the prime path, and I’ll meet you back here, aye?”

Punz seems to be calculating something.  Which is a shame, as Tommy had been hoping he wouldn’t ask questions.  “Tell me why.”

“To go take a piss– What’s it fuckin’ matter?” Tommy snaps.

“I don’t agree to deals if I don’t know what they are.”

“Fuck,” Tommy mutters.  “Okay, if I tell you, you’ve got to promise me you won’t tell anyone, alright?”

Punz sighs.  “Come on, I can’t promise that if I don’t know what I’m agreeing to.”

“I’ll– I’ll give you half the diamonds up front, and if you agree, you get the rest of them.”

“Sixteen diamonds are worthless to me.  Eight even more so.”

“Fuck you, man–” Tommy huffs.  “Okay, how about this, if I tell you, and you still refuse, you won’t tell Tubbo, but I won’t try to leave.  Is that fair?”

Punz considers him for a moment.  “Okay, keep talking.”

“I’m gonna try and talk with Dream,” Tommy’s shoulders hunch inward, as he waits for the appropriate response.

Punz doesn’t panic or shout at him, he just looks puzzled.  “Why?”

“I need to bargain for Wilbur.  Don’t worry, I’m not gonna just turn myself over to him,” Tommy says quickly.  “But I can’t take much more of this and Wilbur can’t either.”

“...And how do you know he won’t just grab you, then?”

“Because he wants me to go back willingly, and I’m not planning on it,” Tommy says irritably.

Punz is silent for a moment, thinking, reading Tommy’s expression for a lie.  “Okay.”

“What?”  Tommy hadn’t actually expected this.  “Okay?”

“I will continue my patrol, and I’ll make my way back up this path in a half hour.  If you don’t turn up, I say you ran away from me and tell Tubbo.  Got it?”  Punz looks resigned.

“Yes!  Yes, got it– Perfect.  Thank you,” Tommy rummages in his inventory, shoving a handful of diamonds at Punz, before turning around, picking a direction, and walking off into the woods.

Punz watches him go with a sigh, setting aside the diamonds, and checking his comm.  A half hour.

Tommy waits until the prime path is out of sight to start shouting.

“Dream!” Tommy turns around, unsure if he should expect to see a white mask beyond the trees or not.  “DREAM!  I’M FUCKING HERE!” Tommy shouts at the top of his lungs.  “DR–”

“I’m here, I’m here.  Quit shouting,” a voice grumbles behind him.

Tommy screams, stumbling back and almost falling over, catching himself on a tree.  “F-Fuck–”

“What?” Dream says, aloof and amused.  “You called?”

“D-Dream–” Tommy had wanted the man to appear.  Doesn’t make this any easier.  "How the fuck did you get here so fast–?"

Dream saunters forward, Tommy staggers further back, a hand raised to keep him away.  “Did you have an offer to make me?  Or are you just wanting to chat?”  Another step closer, for Tommy another step back.  “Or maybe you’re here to thank me!”

“Thank you?” Tommy is surprised enough to reply.

“Yeah!  I took care of the bees for you,” Dream actually sounds proud.  “They scared you, didn’t they?  So I got rid of them for you!  You know, a gesture of my goodwill.”

“You–” Tommy feels revulsion clawing up his throat.  “For me– What the fuck–” he says hoarsely.

“Aw, you didn’t like it?” Dream feigns a pout.  “What about my other gifts?”

“How the fuck did you get in that house?” Tommy snaps, bravery coming and leaving in a moment.

“I told you, Tommy,” Dream meanders between the trees, circling him slowly, Tommy keeps turning to keep him in sight.  “I work in mysterious ways.”

“Stop moving,” Tommy says, voice high and frantic.

“Oooh, making demands,” Dream sneers.  “Getting bold, aren’t we?”

“P-Please,” Tommy backs up until he hits a tree, Dream always keeping pace.

“Good to know you haven’t forgotten all of your manners,” Dream stops his pursuit, standing a few yards away, hands folded behind his back, bouncing back on his heels like he’s waiting for something.

“I’m here to– to talk business,” Tommy still keeps a hand raised in front of him, even if Dream has stopped coming closer.

“Oh?” Dream sounds so fucking amused.  “Decided to come home, finally?”

“N-No–” Tommy grimaces.  “You– You have Wilbur.”

“Wow, Tommy.  Smart as ever.”

“But I can’t go with you.”

Dream tilts his head, intrigued, not upset.  “Go on.”

“But if you– If you stop, if you leave Wilbur somewhere a-and disappear forever, we won’t follow you.  We won’t try and kill you,” Tommy doesn’t sound like he’s bargaining.  He sounds like he’s begging.

“Huh,” Dream exhales a soft laugh.  “I really thought you were about to break.  I didn’t think you were pathetic enough to half ass it like this.”

“What?” Tommy’s eyebrows furrow together.  Everything about this screams wrong, every fiber of his being is telling him to run, but he doesn’t move.  He just listens.

“Between you and Wilbur, Tommy.  I thought you were going to break first,” Dream cheerfully explains.  “Right now Wilbur is still acting all noble, leave Tommy alone use me instead I’ll do whatever you want! “ Dream laughs. “So, either you break first and you come home, or… you know I don’t have to tear Wilbur apart to hurt him,” Dream says it with something like patronizing pity, scolding Tommy for his pathetic efforts.  “I can do anything I want to him and it’ll be your fault.  You know I’m fair, Tommy.  I don’t hurt people just because I can, I punish you for your actions.  And as long as you keep refusing, I get to hurt Wilbur.  Maybe I was wrong.  Maybe Wilbur breaks first.  He’ll start begging me to hurt you instead, anything to make it stop.”

Tommy stares at him, sputtering wordlessly.  He is going to bury everything Dream had just said.  That hadn’t been a part of the plan.  He refocuses.  “Please, Dream.  Just think about it.  If you let Wilbur go, you could– You could still catch me!  Still drag me off.  And if no one’s looking for you it’ll be easier–”

“Oh my god, just give it a rest,” Dream says exasperatedly, silencing him in an instant.  “Enough playing around.”  Dream swings his axe at his side, not raised, but a threat enough.  “It’s time for you to wake up, Tommy.  Smell the coffee!  Your place isn’t here, it’s with me.  And Wilbur.  So, get over this little fantasy you’ve been living in, and come back to reality.”  He steps closer.

“Dream you said you would wait you said you were gonna wait until I came back with you please don’t do this please–” Tommy doesn’t try to run, he slides to the ground and tucks his knees into his chest, covering his head with his hands and shutting his eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable.

“Tommy.”

Tommy whimpers, flinching before curling even tighter into a ball as Dream’s voice emerges so softly right beside him.

“I’m not going to take you away.  I think we’re… we’re making progress, the two of us, right?” Dream puts a hand on Tommy’s shoulder gently.  “You’ll get your head on straight soon.  And then Wilbur will be better, okay?  Promise.”  His sincerity almost makes it worse.  Tommy believes every word.

Tommy can do this.  He knows how to survive things like this.  Surviving it forever, eh?  No.  No, we have a plan.  We can do this.  He stays curled on the ground, staring at the bed of dry pine needles beneath him, refusing to look over at the man kneeling beside him.  “Okay. Okay fine I go with you and you let Wilbur go right?”

“Let him go?  Let him go?” Dream laughs.  He starts laughing and he doesn’t stop, falling back onto the ground, wheezing.  Tommy wishes he could hate this man enough to kill him.  Finally, Dream settles, still almost giddy.  “I forgot how funny you are sometimes, Tommy.  Is that what you thought was gonna happen?”  Dream sounds fucking delighted, like Tommy just made his day.  “No, no you come with me and he’s not being fucking torn apart.  He’s not being punished on your behalf, that’s the deal.  Let him go,” another chuckle.  “God, Tommy, you’ve been gone for just a few weeks and the power has gone to your head. I’m in control, remember?  Let him go,” Dream shakes his head, getting to his feet.  “That’s brilliant– I can’t wait to tell Wilbur that one.”

“Wait,” Tommy forces himself to speak, fearing that Dream is about to leave.  “Give me a week.  One week to get my shit together, to–” Tommy feels a lump form in his throat.  “To say my goodbyes, and I’ll go with you.  You just gotta promise me you won’t hurt him in that time.  Please.”

“Hm,” Dream considers him for a moment.  “Interesting.  I will… I will give you three days, Tommy.  And after that… well, it’s not like I’m gonna pick you up at a train station and help you carry your suitcase, now is it?  After those three days… let’s just say you’re fair game.”  Tommy can hear Dream’s smirk behind that mask.

“Three days,” Tommy repeats.  He doesn’t want to look at him.

“Yep.  And I promise I won’t hurt him for that time.  I’ll take real good care of him,” Dream still seems so amused by Tommy’s concern, talking about Wilbur like he’s Tommy’s pet guinea pig.

Tommy is not going to cry right now.  He’s not going to break down in front of Dream.  “Okay.  Okay, three days.  You–” Tommy’s voice breaks.  He takes a shaky breath, forcing himself to steady.  “You win.  Three days and I– I go with you.”

“Thank you for this, Tommy.  I mean it.  Truly,” Dream has a hand over his heart, giving Tommy a nod imitating respect.  “You take care of yourself, now.  I’ll… I’ll see you soon.”

Dream turns around and walks off into the woods.  Tommy watches him leave.  For a moment, Dream looks back at him, a second glance, assessing him.  He seems to come to some conclusion, and continues onward.

Tommy stays there on the ground.  When he shows up an hour later, covered in pine needles, eyes red and swollen, Punz doesn’t question it.  He just lets them walk back in silence.  Tommy is grateful.  He doesn’t have much to be grateful for these days.

~

Wilbur is exhausted.  His ear still stings and his hand aches and burns.  It’s hot to the touch where Dream had cut his finger off, scabbed over, but irritated.  Wilbur wonders if it’s gotten infected.  He knows if an infection kills him Dream will just bring him back, but that’s not exactly a pleasant way to go.  Wilbur is almost grateful he got to keep his filthy and bloody clothes, because at least he has a sturdy coat to keep some of the damp away, one with pockets.  He’s kept the unlit cigarette safe.  Yes, there’s a voice in the back of his head telling him he’s an idiot, that he shouldn’t accept anything from the generous hands of a monster, but it’s not like denying himself one potential mercy will save him.  All things considered, he’s been in worse shape, the condition of his hand aside.

Dream had left him alone for a few days until he was half dead from dehydration, he’d returned and promised him water, saying that all he needed to do was hold still.  Wilbur was barely conscious enough to protest, so he did as he was told.  He didn’t move.

He didn’t move until Dream took a pair of shears to his left hand.

Wilbur’s feeble resistance stopped before he even got to the bone, he’d been on the verge of blacking out before Dream started carving into him, it was easy to let go.  When he came to, the wound on his hand was healed over, scabbed by a health potion.  Dream had left him a bottle of water and some bread.

That relief hadn’t lasted long.  Wilbur is thirsty again.  It’s distracting him from his game of solitaire.  He doesn’t have a deck of cards, obviously, but he can at least occupy himself thinking of how a game might go if he did.  Wilbur had been hoping Dream would come, if only so he might get some more water, but he still flinches when the stone wall slides open, Dream entering with too much arrogance in his step.

“Hey, Wilbur,” Dream leans against the wall across from him.  “Done anything exciting since I’ve been gone?”

“Hilarious,” Wilbur says with a dry cough.

A pause, Dream seemingly waiting for something.  “Don’t you want to know?”

Wilbur’s eyes narrow.  “Know what?”

“How Tommy is!  Aren’t you curious?” Dream sounds like a child excited to show a teacher a drawing they made.

Wilbur knows Dream won’t give him an accurate update, but he does want to know.  He wants to know how close Dream has gotten to Tommy, or if Tommy is maybe experiencing some peace.  “How is he?” Wilbur asks carefully.

“Pretty good, I’d say.  Tubbo moved him into a fortress and have set up a guard system because they know I’m closing in,” Dream says cheerfully.  “I bet any day now Tubbo is gonna lock him in.”  Dream stops, like he’s holding something back, hands fidgeting restlessly in front of him.  “Then Tommy will be just begging to come back with me.”

Wilbur fucking hates it.  Dream talks about Tommy– He talks about Tommy and Tubbo, like Tubbo is just looking after Tommy for him.  Like Tubbo is playing pretend at controlling Tommy the way Dream does.  Wilbur can try and glean some sense from it.  Tubbo is helping to keep Tommy safe.  Wilbur remembers Tubbo enough to know he would never lock Tommy away.

You never thought Tubbo would exile him either, did you?

“You sound confident, Dream,” Wilbur bothers with a reply.  Dream will keep talking either way, Wilbur can at least try and get more information on Tommy.

Dream seems to be trying to contain some giddy pride, putting on a weak facade of calm.  “I mean, I always knew it was gonna go this way.  Like, I could’ve taken him whenever I wanted.  All the… theatrics,” Dream gestures to him as he says this.  “You know what this is, right?”

Wilbur stares.  He doesn’t want answers.  He asks anyway.  “...What?”

“This is part of me punishing him, Wilbur,” Dream still sounds almost manic with excitement, a mad scientist explaining the logistics of killing a rat.  “This is me reminding him of his place.  When I hurt you, it’s because of what he did to get away from me, and the only way it’ll be fixed is when he learns his lesson and comes home.  I’d say that’s a much more effective teacher than me just beating the hell out of him or breaking his legs or cutting his eyes out or whatever,” Dream lists the alternatives so casually.

Wilbur feels sick.  Dream thinks that Tommy cares enough for Wilbur that knowing he’s being hurt is some how comparable to being blinded.   Wilbur also knows that functionally, as Dream said, they serve the same purpose.  Both force Tommy to stay with Dream.

Wilbur knows he won’t like the answer, but he can’t stop pushing down a dark path, staring at the sea lanterns reflected in the bloody water on the ground.  “What then?”

“What?”

“If Tommy comes back, what happens then?” Wilbur glances up to that mask, but there is no expression to read nor a soul behind those eyes.

“Hm,” Dream tilts his head, arms folded over his chest as he considers this.  “Two lab rats are better than one, y’know?” He shrugs.  “You’ll like that, won’t you?  It’ll make a beautiful story.  You and your brother, dying together over and over and over again.  Maybe I’ll let you kill yourself sometimes.  Your first run was okay, but you could polish the writing, huh?”  Dream can see Wilbur starting to shut down, to refuse to engage in this fucking horror show, but he pushes on.  “We could make a game out of it!” Dream says excitedly.  “You two could get a say in who dies and how!  And– And if he annoys you, you can just shoot him!  Or, well, I can’t trust you with a crossbow, so not shoot him, but I could give you a knife if you want.  I bet you wish you could’ve done that back in the L’Manberg days.  He won’t shut up and all it takes is a knife in his throat.  You’d be surprised how easy it is!”

“Get the fuck out,” Wilbur snarls.

“No, no, really– Listen, this could be fun,” Dream doesn’t stop.  “I have ideas.  You could see who can hold their breath the longest, or who can run the farthest!  I have an idea, if we set up stasis chambers– You know what, I won’t spoil it, but trust me, it’ll be fun, Wilbur.”

“Just shut up!  Just shut up!” Wilbur struggles to stand.  He knows he won’t actually be able to fight Dream, but he can’t take this anymore.  Wilbur manages to stand, but that’s about it.  He can’t lunge at Dream, he doesn't even know if he can muster the effort to even try.  He’s thirsty and exhausted and he knows Dream will laugh at him when he falls on his face trying to land one good punch on him.

“Okay, okay, fine, you’re right.  I don’t want to spoil it,” Dream settles him amicably.  “I’ll go.  Hold on– you were good today,” Dream searches his pockets.  “You still got that cigarette?”

Wilbur frowns, anger waning into hesitation.  His self righteousness dies too quickly.  Wilbur hasn’t learned how to push through this kind of weakness yet.  “...yeah?”

“There’s like no ventilation in here, but hey, if you suffocate– No harm in that, right?”  Dream waits, Wilbur still hesitates.  “Well, come on then,” Dream nods at him.  He has a lighter.

Wilbur takes the cigarette from his pocket.  Dream had just enthusiastically reminded him of what a monster he is.  He shouldn’t accept this.  Wilbur holds it out to him.  Dream grabs onto his wrist, holding his shaking hand steady as he lights it.  Wilbur knows why Dream didn’t just give him a lighter, but he still hates it.  Wilbur’s cigarettes are useless except when he gets a light from Dream.  He has to get permission for every smoke.  It’s humiliating and Dream knows it from the way he held onto his wrist, keeping a child still to administer a shot.

“You’re welcome.  Keep your head on straight and behave yourself, and you’ll be out of here in no time!”  Dream laughs.  “Well, out of this room at least.”

“Somewhere dryer, perhaps?” Wilbur says irritably.  He feels oddly embarrassed and hates himself for it.

“Maybe,” Dream is evasive.  “There’s a reason for it, you know.”

Wilbur, almost out of habit, takes a smoke, coughing.  It’s been a long time.  He exhales too quickly.  “Yeah, what’s that, then?”  Why are you engaging?  Why is it so fucking easy for you to give up?

“I thought it’d be obvious,” Dream is as patronizing as ever.  “An enderman is not gonna teleport into a flooded room, Wilbur.”

“Oh.  Right,” Wilbur understands now.  It’s eerie how methodical this man is.  The way Tommy described it, sometimes Dream just snapped and resorted to violence on a whim, but now, and from what Wilbur remembers before in the vault, Dream is too calculating, every action has something sinister behind it.

“Well, I’ll see you later.  Again– I’d keep acting like this if I were you.  It’d be nice to have you moved into a better cell before Tommy gets here,” and with that threat hanging in the air, Dream leaves him the dark, save for the orange glow of a lit cigarette.  Wilbur feels guilty.  Not guilty enough to stop smoking it.  He is trying his best not to think about it, but Dream had said before Tommy gets here, not a matter of if, but a matter of when.  He inhales more smoke with something almost frantic.

~

It takes four people to make a lodestone the size of an acorn.  Phil, Bad, Foolish, and Ranboo all fuss together down in the spider farm.  Tommy merely watches on.  It’s a funny sight.  Phil looks tiny next to a seven foot tall half-enderman, a nine foot tall demon, and a 23 foot tall god who has shrunk himself to match Bad’s height.  Tommy had been a bit startled by the demigod Eret had referred him to for a project like this, but the guy is friendly enough.

Ranboo is quite good at writing out the runes, Phil and Foolish knowing what they should actually be, and Bad making sure the lodestone is put together correctly.  In all honesty, Tommy has no fucking clue what they’re doing.  Tubbo watches the proceedings with him, a regular compass shifting restlessly in his hands.  Tommy can tell this whole plan is still making him anxious.

“Hey, after this, how about you help me tear down the stone around my house?  I know I can’t really stay there yet, but I miss when it was dirt, y’know?”

“What?  Oh, oh yeah, sure,” Tubbo remains distracted.  A pause.  “You doing okay?”

“What?”

“With all of this,” Tubbo is still not looking him, watching the sparks and blue shine of lapis as the project continued.

“Generally speaking, uh.  Shit.  But this stuff is… it’s gonna help, okay?” Tommy means it.  “As long as you can find me, Tubbo, I’ll be alright.”  Tommy is holding onto that so tightly.  This reassurance isn’t just for Tubbo.

Tubbo tears his gaze from the group and looks at Tommy, finally worry waning for fondness.  “Alright, bossman.  I believe you.”

Tommy does his best not to feel guilty for that.

The compass doesn’t need an enchantment on it, just to be attuned to the lodestone.  Tommy is guessing the compass Ghostbur made, the enchantment was on it and that’s how it found them.  Tubbo stares at it, at the needle pointing resolutely to Tommy’s hand where he holds it.

“Perfect.  Thank you, guys,” Tommy says.  He actually feels relieved.  “Even you, Badboyhalo.”

“What– What’s that supposed to mean?!” Bad says irritably.  “I do something nice for you and– You know what, fine!  You’re welcome.”

Tommy tucks the lodestone in his pocket for the time being.  It feels warm in the palm of his hand.  He’ll sew it into his shirt when–

When his three days are up.

“You wanna tear apart your house still, bossman?” Tubbo asks.

“Oh yeah!  Definitely,” Tommy forces a grin.  He doesn’t want Tubbo to worry.  Tommy keeps fiddling with the lodestone in his pocket.

Tommy will spend these next days carefully.

[thespoonisvictory]

Please explain why Schlatt is the best character on the SMP.

(Alternatively, I would be really interested in hearing more about your dislike for Quackity's produced lore. Personally, I love it, so I'm really intrigued whenever someone says that they're not fond of it).

as much as I love schlatt, I think I'll answer the quackity question, because I've been meaning to.

first of all, I think I should clarify that I'm definitely biased, because my favorite streamers, outside of the dsmp universe, tend towards semi lore, or, at least, not whatever quackity's doing. I'm used to it, and people tend to not like change lol.

second of all, I really do like quackity's produced lore, but I don't like certain aspects of it, and find myself preferring semi lore in general. I don't think he should stop doing it so much as I think he should use it as an occasional technique rather than conveying near 100% of his story with it. big q is very talented and I commend him for taking such a bold approach, which I think pays off in some ways.

third, to me, semi lore is any lore that breaks the fourth wall in that it isn't trying to be something other than a minecraft stream, it's all in first person, and none of it is prerecorded. for example: most of wilbur's pogtopia streams are semi (or casual) lore to me, because he'll thank subs and joke with schlatt about getting techno a girlfriend, but it's still largely in canon.

anyway, in true jenny nicholson fashion, let's kick off with a numbered list.

1. this post, by patches, explains a bit of why the lore streams can get a bit disconcerting to me. the dsmp have always had a bit of charming awkwardness in their improv, because these are for the most part just Some Guys acting, and under the guise of a stream where it's just a Streamer Playing Minecraft, it fits. but the highly produced nature just- creates such a disparity between the quality of the cinematography and the acting that it's a little weird, y'know?

2. in some cases, semi lore allows for dread to be built in a unique way. during the exile arc, tommy would have lighthearted streamer jokes and bits, shout out subs, pretend like things were normal. he never acknowledges that his situation is messed up, that his condition is getting worse, that things are falling apart. it's a quiet, sinking, horror that creeps along over the course of weeks. it's important to the viewer that we are there every day to see the slow progress, to understand why tommy gets pushed so far down. besides the impracticality of 14 highly produced lore streams, you would lose a lot of the subtlety there.

the smp is such a unique medium in that the stream style itself is so telling. when tommy actively doesn't acknowledge what's happening, it makes the abuse that's occurring seem so much worse. when wilbur drops little hits about his depression or his plans in between lighthearted, ooc jokes, it lulls the audience into a false sense of security.

imagine a version of the 'forming las nevadas' story where quackity does it over the course of four nights. the slow realization of his manipulation tactics disguised by an unassuming stream format, because it's still quackity, joking around and laughing until he approaches the next person and he shifts into his 'persona'. when he finishes the conversation, we watch his face fall, his smile fade, as he walks back to an empty las nevadas. it would build hype, not to mention taking less work, and letting the audience see a bit more of quackity's humanity.

3. I mentioned it before, but it just straight up takes less time. I'm willing to wait, of course, but there's something to be said about the merits of pacing and being able to throw together a lore stream last minute. take, for example, tommy's death. it wouldn't have been nearly as impactful without the rushed, oddly somber flurry of livestreams that came after. jack didn't need a highly produced montage of him standing by tommy's grave as the seasons passed, of his planting flowers everyday. what turned out to be effective was just- him, walking around, coming to terms with his grief, completely silent for periods of time.

it was mourning. plain and simple, with no embellishment or evil villain music, shockingly earnest.

I don't think you could replicate that raw, undone feeling with a prerecorded, pre-produced, semi-movie. it feels like all of a sudden jack's pov was important enough that he had to stream, and there it was.

you could argue that this could be planned beforehand, but I think more often than not, that's a. not really feasible, and b. going to take away from the organic nature.

we all like candid shots, 'authentic' vlogs and influencers. to me, this is just one more extension of that rule.

4. under the same idea, you can make more. we spend more time with the streamers, and therefore the characters, and get to know their more human side. wilbur, for example, is deeply humanized by little things that you just couldn't really fit into a lore stream: his dynamic with niki, all his little moments of hesitation, his banter with tommy and his true love for l'manburg. who c!wilbur is is built up over hours and hours of comments and suggestions and one-off statements, and we just don't have time for that in quackity's lore. the transitions are snappy, filled with beautiful shots, but they don't allow for as much depth of character as that awkward little walk from place to place, that quiet monologue they do to themselves.

it's not impossible for you to do that, as with c!quackity and c!charlie serving as a 'morality pet', but at this risk of repeating myself endlessly, it's more earnest and organic in a sense.

5. last, I just really like multiple povs. one of my favorite bits from s1 is the fundy spy arc, because of how effectively multiple povs are used. streams where wilbur is deeply, deeply distraught over fundy's betrayal but thinks fundy doesn't care, while fundy is deeply, deeply distraught over wilbur's prior treatment of him but thinks he doesn't care. and you could watch both at the same time! quackity's pov isn't as personal when it uses third person, which is a bit sad because I think it's a unique aspect of livestreaming every perspective.

(I'm so sorry if this isn't coherent or makes any sense I'm very brain dead and tired from speedrunning three essays yesterday)

basically, I think quackity's lore style is good for big, grand events, occasionally. it's very cool to watch, definitely builds hype, and can make certain things easier, such as coordinating a bunch of people or doing special effects.

but for building a plot and establishing character dynamics, I really prefer semi/casual lore.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

We’re really getting into our hotel here, aren’t we? And the interesting kind too!

Anyways, I don’t suppose you have any Devil’s Deal headcanons? That au is just wonderfully dark and I love it.

Here we go again.

-Dream does not know anything about Jack's death and his way out of hell. The only way he found out was from Tubbo after asking (a bit sarcastically) if there’s anyone else who managed to live again after dying. Tubbo answered Jack and that immediately made Dream more interested in Jack then he initially was

-Tommy and Jack run cold and now the BigInnit hotel just has a huge blanket fort in the employee room.

-Soon, Tubbo uses it when they figure out everything

-Blanket Fort soon just is used by everybody in the aftermath of the mind control thing and everyone just has one huge cuddle pile in there and comforts each other

-First time Tubbo visited the prison in command walk, he freaked out and had to take a minute to calm down before realizing that Dream is in the cell too

-The Green Teletubbie was absolutely thrilled to find out that it worked. That both the resurrection and the amulet worked. Was practically bouncing off the walls. Creeped Tubbo out a lot

-Dream manipulates Tubbo but like in a way where he goes and tells him that it’s his fault for the things Dream told him to do. He could have went and fought back at the control but he didn’t. Great. Now Tubbo is blaming himself for things he was told to do

-The “servant” clothing thing was something Dream came up with on the fly. Tubbo already acts the part, might as well make him look it as well

-Jack was the one who goes with Tubbo in the cell during the forced prison visit. Mainly because Sam needs to be on the other side to extract them out and everyone refuses to have Tommy and Ranboo go even an inch near Dream

-Forced prison visit was f u n. Everyone was just on edge and Tubbo was just in command walk again. Was basically going to the cell in all green and stuff like before and they really can’t do anything about it. Everyone was just not having a good time

-First thing Jack did was punch Dream when he arrived at the cell with Tubbo

-Dream decides to be sadistic and just shows Jack the extent of how much control he has over Tubbo. Freaked Jack out several times and made him sick

-There was also some prying questions on how Jack manage to get out of hell without any help and it is creepy with the whole atmosphere of everything

-Ten minute visit and Tubbo comes out dazed and was out of it for an hour. Jack came out absolutely shaken

-Ranboo is internally screaming whenever the Antarctic Syndicate starts talking about Snowchester because they already have Tubbo apparently selling his free will away. They do not need another explosion on another town on top of that

-Eret and Foolish are now also researching on how to have the deal broken without reckless endangerment of anybody. They know about magic and they can figure something out

-Tommy does not like talking about his death. He does not like talking about it. He hates it more than anything and closes up instantly when it happens. He does talk about it a little though once some time passes but it’s not a good conversation topic

-Sam angst dropped, now he’s blaming himself for not seeing this as well. He’s blaming himself so much for not stopping Tubbo from making that deal. Sure Tommy’s alive but god, at what cost? And now he’s also blaming himself for not stopping Dream in the first place! Fuck!

-Jack Manifold character development has also dropped, he’s very conflicted about Tommy being alive and is low-key considering on killing him again but at the same time he just saw Tubbo looking so distressed in that whole month Tommy was gone. So he goes and puts it in the maybe pile and does it so that he doesn’t actively try to kill Tommy but he won’t actively try and save him if his life was in danger

-At some point Jack and Tommy are just going to have one massive argument about Tommy’s death and they both have trauma and man

-Ranboo angst has dropped but this time it’s him having a crisis of whether he may or may not have helped in Tommy’s murder indirectly and how after they found out about Tubbo’s deal he may have also helped in that as well

-Captain Puffy is now just stressed out because these kids are traumatized and she couldn’t protect them and man. She has the Eggpire to deal with, three traumatized kids that definitely need therapy, and the suspecting feeling that Jack might still try to kill Tommy. She is not having fun

-No one is having a good time in this au honestly. Like yeah they weren’t already when we made this au but now that I’m posting this after Tommy got out of prison, everyone is really not having a good time

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (January 30/2021) - Bad's Visit, Ranboo’s Confrontation

The day has come. It’s time to visit Pandora’s Vault again.

The first visitor after Tommy is Badboyhalo, whose visit with Dream leaves him a bit uneasy, conflicted about how he feels about the living conditions of Dream’s cell. 

The second was Ranboo, though his visit wasn’t exactly what it seemed at first...

---

Here is the link to Badboyhalo’s VOD

(I’ve been a lot more specific with the details of what happened in this stream since the VOD is unlisted, but I figured I’d also just link the VOD here as well)

This post is pretty long, so I’ve only recapped the two very lore-heavy streams today to keep it from being even longer.

---

Also note (CW/TW):  Today’s streams had some heavy themes, including derealization. 

---

- Badboyhalo goes to visit Dream at the prison.

- Awesam asks him questions. This will be the first time that Bad has visited Dream at all. He resides at the Mansion. He hesitates a little at the question of whether Dream deserves to be locked up, saying an uncertain “yeeeeesss?”

His prior relationship with Dream is that they were friends. Were friends before he chose to destroy L’manburg. Maybe not 100% not friends, but...neutral.

- Sam directs him to the lectern with the waiver. Bad signs it. He places his valuables in the locker room.

- They start heading through the security measures of the prison. They make it to the lava wall and wait for it to drain. Bad is nervous.

- He turns to face Dream. Dream says he hasn’t had a visitor in a while.

- Dream starts spinning the clock.

Dream: “I used to write, but I...burnt a lot of my books.”

Bad checks the chest and sure enough, many of the books are missing.

Dream would try to get out, so Sam disallowed visitors for a few days.

Bad: “I bet you have a lot of time to think about what you did.”

Dream: “Yeah, I do...It’s a...think and think and think.”

- Dream asks Bad about how George and Sapnap are doing. He says they haven’t visited him...

Bad says he’s sure that George and Sapnap miss him.

Bad: “You’re telling me they haven’t come by at all?”

Dream goes over and starts spinning the clock again.

- Dream asks Bad about what’s been happening outside. Bad tells Dream about how Tommy is starting a hotel. 

Bad: “I’m sure a lot of people miss you!”

- There’s still a giant Crater where L’manburg used to be. Nobody’s tried to clean it up. 

- Bad also mentions the Egg. Dream remembers Bad showing him the Egg a while back. Bad says that it’s spreading Vines across the server.

Dream: “That’s interesting...”

- Bad asks if Dream’s named the clock yet. Dream says he has, but he doesn’t want to say what...

- Dream writes up a thank-you book to Bad for visiting him. Bad wouldn’t be able to take it with him on the way out, so he puts it in the chest.

- Bad asks how long his sentence is. Dream says forever. 

- Dream says he likes to watch the clock, and when it hits halfway...he’s happy. They watch the clock hit halfway. That was awesome.

- Dream asks Bad how long he’s been in there. Bad says...a couple weeks, he thinks? A week? Two weeks?

- Bad asks who else has visited. Dream says Tommy. The only one until Bad. Bad is shocked that no one else has visited, but Dream explains that there are limited visiting hours, and people have to schedule. He’s sure they will.

- Dream says he sometimes plays a prank on Sam by burning the clock so that he brings a new one, so that he can see Sam and say hi.

Dream: "He comes over." 

Bad: "I mean, you don’t get in trouble for doing that, do you?" 

Dream: "...Not yet...Sometimes he'll give me less potatoes, but--" 

 Bad: "Oh, so he starves you." 

Dream: "...No, I’m not saying -- I dunno, I wouldn’t say I’m starving."

Bad: “Do you have three square meals a day?”

Dream: “...”

Dream: “I have potatoes!”

Bad: “Yeah, potatoes are good!”

...

Dream: “He’ll do it later.” (chuckling) “Later he’ll come and he’ll say ‘why did you do it again?’ And then he’ll look at me and say ‘don’t be so dumb, Dream!’ And I’ll laugh at him, and I’ll say ‘oooooh, I -- I got you though!’”

- Dream tosses the clock into the lava and laughs. 

- Dream says Sam is making a system soon so that he can just drop the potatoes down so that he doesn’t have to visit Dream to give them. Bad doesn’t like the idea of this and says Dream should encourage Sam to continue visiting Dream in person.

- Dream sniffs a bit, but tells Bad he’s happy there.

- Bad will become a guard soon, and says he might be able to suggest giving Dream new things. He suggests a plant. Dream likes that idea. 

- Bad asks who Dream wants to visit. Dream says he wants George and Sapnap to visit him. Bad says he’ll go and talk to them about it. They probably already want to come and see him! Maybe they just need a little reminder.

Bad: “Yeah, and if you keep up -- I assume you’ve been maintaining good behavior, right?”

Dream: “...”

Dream: “...Yeah.”

Bad: “Okay, ‘cause like you gotta maintain good behavior, ‘cause if you. maintain good behavior --”

- Dream suddenly runs into the lava. Bad is freaked out, but Dream says he swims there sometimes. That’s just how it works. It’s a way to keep entertained.

Sometimes he likes to touch the lava and burn for some time, only extinguishing himself at the last second. He laughs a bit. Bad asks if this is another way to prank Sam? Dream just keeps laughing.

- Dream says Bad’s time is probably up. 

- Dream asks Bad if he knows how long each block would take to break? He says he’s sat for twenty minutes once trying to break the blocks. 

He helped design it, though, and knows that there’s an observer behind the blocks that will teleport the guards. Maybe if he wants to see Bad sometime, he can break it and teleport him over.

- Bad says maybe he’ll visit soon again, but with George and Sapnap. Dream says there’s only one visitor allowed at a time.

- Bad says his goodbye and exits the cell.

- Sam asks how his visit was. Bad says it was good, but Dream needs a new clock. Sam is exasperated -- this was the fourth/fifth (hard to hear) time already -- and says he might not get a new one this time...

He’ll give him a new clock, but Dream’s on thin ice.

- Bad tells Sam he needs a clock! Sam asks why he would need one. 

- Sam asks Bad what Dream said. Bad said they just talked about stuff, and that Dream jumped into the lava. Sam says he does that a lot, that “usually he just wants attention.”

- Bad exits the prison, thanking Sam. Sam says goodbye.

- Bad says he doesn’t know how he feels. It’s a lot to take in. On the one hand, Dream did plenty to land himself in the prison, but on the other hand, the conditions of the prison are horrible. 

- Bad says there’s no way he could ever be broken out, and he doesn’t even deserve to get broken out anyway. He was going to kidnap Skeppy! 

But at the same time, a part of Bad can’t help but feel a bit sorry. 

It’s not too much to feel a bit sympathetic about the conditions, and hope that they can be improved a tiny bit. Maybe giving him a plant! Or a pet!

- Bad plans to become a guard to incentivize better conditions.

- Bad thinks Dream deserves to be in there, and he doesn’t want to free him, just provide better conditions. He was spinning a clock just for entertainment! 

Even prisoners deserve good living conditions. 

(To paraphrase) He totally deserves to be in there! But the conditions are awful. There’s no reason why being there needs to be torture. And having more friends coming to visit him is good, providing a positive influence. 

- Bad was a little horrified. He didn’t know what to say when Dream started spinning the clock. He named the clock! Pretty soon he’ll be counting up the bricks in his cell and naming them, too. 

He thinks a pet, a potted plant, something like that would be a good start. Something for Dream to take care of.

- Bad was a little unnerved about how Sam was acting in the prison, like he didn’t care or was apathetic. 

- Dream belongs in the prison, but there’s a difference between torture and just locking someone up. Dream is in there because he’s a danger to others, but his stay there doesn’t have to be torture. 

What else could they get him?

Maybe...a jukebox and some music discs? Bad has music discs he could gift him. Maybe music can lift his spirits.

Or perhaps some paintings to lift the spirit of the room.

- Bad examines the growth of the Vines. He’s noticed that the Vines aren’t growing past the border of the Holy Land. 

- Bad speaks with Quackity. He asks about Dream being in prison -- question, would it be too much to ask about improving the living conditions in the prison?

Quackity says maybe they could “improve his living conditions” by building another wall or bullying him. 

- Bad says Quackity should go and visit him. Quackity is planning to. Maybe then they can discuss it. 

Quackity says that now he’s thinking about it...they do have quite a bit of leverage. Maybe he could reconsider it...a plan to provide him with more comfortable living, but any comfortable living comes with a price...people would owe him.

Bad doesn’t like that idea. It sounds manipulative. 

Quackity: “At what point has Dream given you anything? At all? Has he ever helped you? Exactly. So listen to me, okay? What we need to do is get something out of comfortable living. I’m sure he’d love comfortable living, Bad. So that is why we need to go to him and strike him a deal...”

Bad: “What can he give us? He’s imprisoned.”

Quackity: “I know exactly what he can give me.”

- Quackity leaves the call. 

- Bad wasn’t sure if he should’ve told Dream about the Eggpire so he didn’t, because he was worried it would make Dream more sad.

--- From here on, all of this takes place on an alternate server ---

- Ranboo starts off in the panic room, looking at his sign. Today’s the day.

“After today? He’s gonna know who I am. He’s gonna know exactly who I am.”

- Ranboo starts heading over. The construction sign at the hotel site is completely blacked out.

“Dream’s not the one in danger here...so I could get rid of him if I wanted to...I could get rid of him if I wanted to. But then other people couldn’t come back...No, I couldn’t do that.”

- Ranboo goes in through the portal. He comes out into the Nether in an area not within the prison’s Nether chamber. Ranboo comes through and gets teleported to Sam for a moment.

- Sam asks him the questions. Ranboo says this is the first time he’s visited and Sam accepts his answer with no hesitation. He’s talking with a very cheerful tone of voice.

- Ranboo tells him he lives near Techno and Phil, and that he thinks Dream definitely deserves to be locked up. With regards to prior relations, he actually hasn’t spoken to Dream before...

- Ranboo needs the Memory Book with him. He gives it to Sam to inspect. Sam says he can allow it in, but Sam will have to transport it for him.

- As they go through, Sam notices that Ranboo is nervous and reassures him that everything’s fine. He is also always holding a clock in his offhand.

- Ranboo signs the waivers, the first as “Ranboo” and the second with “Ranboo2.”

- They make it to the lava wall and Sam gives Ranboo his Memory Book.

- Dream’s surprised Ranboo didn’t come sooner. They’re best friends, right? Ranboo says they’ve barely spoken. Dream says he’s probably talked to Ranboo more than anyone else on the entire server!

- Dream asks why Ranboo’s acting different? He then realizes. But he’s still glad to see Ranboo. He’s been a good helping hand, after all.

“You did do those things. After Dream told you to do them.”

- Ranboo points out the clock. Dream says he doesn’t really like it.

- Dream asks if Ranboo would like to see what he’s been writing, and hands him a book labelled

Do not read.

- Ranboo looks through the chest. Not only is the chest completely filled with books that weren’t there earlier, but every single one of them is labelled “Do not read.” They are all unsigned and unfinished, and there are no anvils in Dream’s cell.

Every single one of them is the same, 17 pages long unlike the 4-page book in Ranboo’s hand. 

“I know what I went through because I’m you!”

“Look, you’ve been helping Dream! The only reason you haven’t been talking to me recently is because you can’t picture what he sounds like...he would tell you thinks to do, you were like his little...servant!”

- Ranboo asks how it’s possible that he could help Dream so much and not remember any of it. 

“You do! You do because I’m you.”

 “I’m...I’m not even real.”

Dream disappears. The screen goes black. The white smile appears without the crown. The crown flashes in code:

“Not free yet.”

---

Upcoming Events:

- The next Tales From the SMP episode

- Tommy’s next visit with Dream

- Bad wants to visit Dream again in the future

- Tubbo’s possible visit with Dream

- Quackity’s possible visit with Dream

- Puffy’s visit with Dream

- Ponk’s visit with Dream

- Punz’s visit with Dream

- Jack Manifold’s visit with Dream

- The Eggpire possibly speaking with Technoblade