#speaking of that fic i hope quackity ended up okay and with a happy ending in the nebulous world of what we don't see on-screen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ramzawrites · 4 years

Note

can i request an angsty sbi fic where sibling reader lost two lives saving others (maybe tubbo at the festival?) and they see everything falling apart (techno and phil destroying everything, wilbur dead and tommy focused on the disks) and they pretend to be ok while their mental health gets worse and worse until they decide to end it, and people only realise they weren't okay after the death message pops up and their reactions to seeing it? if not thats completely fine, ik its pretty heavy

Broken

Pairings: none

Characters included: Wilbur, Tommy, Philza, Tubbo, Technoblade

Warnings: depression, suicide (falling, non descriptive), angst

Series: a request!

Summary: Y/N just wanted their home back. They just wanted to live a peaceful life but instead all their hopes and dreams got ripped apart by the people they loved the most.

Words count: 3647

Authors Note: Honestly I could have shortened it quite a bit but here we are, it’s way longer than I wanted but I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m sorry if this went kind off of rails to what you might have envisioned. Also I hope that you guys know that you are loved and appreciated. I appreciate you for taking the time to read my stuff :] Here is m favorite video to cheer me up some times, hope it can cheer you up as well!

I’m also curious what your guys thoughts and opinion are on this or my writing in general! Can’t get better without feedback :]

Y/N loved their family.

They were all pretty chaotic but so was Y/N, following their siblings into trouble ignoring any possible consequences.

So when Wilbur proclaimed he would create an independent Nation inside the SMP that was owned by Dream himself, you bet that Y/N was standing right beside him.

When Wilbur would struggle with his tasks or was weighed down by doubts they would swoop right in and do their best to support him. Every time Wilbur would say “I don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.” While Y/N didn’t do it for praise but out of love for him it was still nice knowing that he appreciated them and that he took note of their work.

Tommy wasn’t really for heartfelt words but he too expressed in his own way how much he appreciated them being around. Most of his schemes wouldn’t have even happened without Y/N’s help after all. As a way to say thanks he would let them just take stuff fout his chets or when he heard they needed a specific resource he would wander out and get it for them. Of course saying something on the lines of “I was out there anyhow, so I brought some with me. It was on the way.” Y/N could read between the lines though. They grew up with him after all.

Y/N put so much energy into L’Manberg they couldn’t help but be in love with this little nation. They would do everything to protect their home.

When Y/N lost their first life it was together with their siblings protecting their nephew Fundy.

The Dream Team suddenly retreated after another battle against L’Manberg. While the group was celebrating what they thought was their first victory in ages, Eret appeared. She told the group of a small bunker with more resources.

Still celebrating Wilbur, Y/N, Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy made their way towards the bunker. The bunker that would later go down into history as “The Final Control Room.”

Inside they all looked at the labeled chests only to notice that they were empty. Eret then pressed a button which opened up secret walls with the Dream Team standing behind. She herself got into safety as Dream and his friends merciless attacked the L’Manberg faction.

As soon as Y/N understood what was happening they did their best to form a wall between the attackers and Fundy. Slowly pushing him out of the room while they made sure to block the exit, giving the Fox Hybrid enough time to run away.

When they woke up again it was inside their home. In L’Manberg. Sore from the respawning.

Once they did respawn though it didn’t take long for Fundy to barge into their room and throw himself against them, thanking them. Wilbur was close by, looking worse for wear as well but incredible thankful nonetheless.

After that and a few battles more Tommy challenged Dream to a duel in order to secure independence. He lost so instead he bartered his music discs for freedom.

After Tommy respawned a second time Y/N made sure to spent most of their time hovering around him. Making sure he was doing alright.

But with that L’Manberg was independent and it was Y/N’s time to shine. Sure, they worked hard on strengthening the infrastructure of the nation but now, maybe even because of that, they basically coordinated all the new builds.

Shops, homes and other things were being build with them overseeing it. Meanwhile Wilbur and Tommy took care of the political part only to come to the conclusion that they had to have a proper election.

At first it started innocently enough as well. New political parties were made that begun advertising themselves. Funny enough they would always come to Y/N asking them where they could hang up their posters. It was then that Y/N realized that the people saw them as some sort of authority, even asking them if they wanted to start their own campaign. They politely declined, saying they worked best as a support role.

Then Schlatt entered the stage and everything got thrown upside down.

In the end he managed to become the next president via a coalition and his first declaration as the president, or emperor as he called himself, was to exile Tommy and Wilbur.

As they ran for their life Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow. It hurt them so much to leave L’Manberg, their fruit and labor, behind. This only got worse once they realized that Tubbo was basically left alone back at the city under Schlatt’s rule.

Then Pogtopia got established.

Tommy, Wilbur and Y/N did their best to get a proper foothold again. Gathering resources and planning for ways to get their home back. And to accomplish this they soon called in the oldest sibling of the group, Technoblade.

Techno has been away for the longest time now. He moved out early to travel the world and apparently train himself. Somehow Tommy found a way to get a message to him, so he made his way towards Pogtopia.

He wasn’t big on words or emotions but as soon as he arrived he let Y/N hug him.

“This is a onetime deal, Y/N.”

With Techno they finally felt like they had a chance. Y/N could maybe return home someday. Back when they were children Techno always looked out for them so to have him back Y/N felt infinitely safer.

All the while Wilbur showed more and more signs that his mental health was rapidly declining. Y/N did their best trying to cheer him up but there was only so much they could do. Especially since they themself were struggling.

L’Manberg was their everything and now it was under the iron rule of Schlatt. They had to watch as Schlatt walked through the nation, ripping apart builds that they commissioned or even built themself. Every time he did something like that it felt like another stab wound directly into their heart.

Then the festival happened where Y/N lost their second life protecting Tubbo.

Schlatt wanted to apparently celebrate democracy and his amazing rule. Tommy and Wilbur weren’t allowed to join while Techno and Y/N received an invitation.

Y/N was very wary of that. They learned from Tubbo that Schlatt apparently was pretty interested in bringing them over to Manberg since a lot of the residents trusted them and saw them more as an authority than Schlatt himself, so bringing them over would probably also bring a lot of the residents around to his rule.

On the day of the festival Y/N made sure to stay close to Techno. Holding on to his arm and basically hiding behind him, not feeling up to talk with all the people in Manberg.

The people were happy to see them but Y/N was tired. They haven’t slept properly ever since the exile, too many thoughts that kept them awake.

Then the speeches started.

Honestly Y/N wasn’t really listening, their attention purely on a broken old building. It used to be the place where Y/N and the other residents would meet up and map out their plans for new builds. Discussing and even sometimes arguing on what materials should be used and where to get them. Now it was empty.

Their attention got pulled back towards what was actually happening once Tubbo begun speaking. It was a nice little speech Y/N had to admit.

Just as Tubbo was about to leave, Schlatt moved back in. Holding him in place and pushing him in something that Y/N had to describe as a cage with the help of Quackity.

“Techno, buddy. Come up here for a sec.”

Technoblade tensed up but still moved towards the stage. There Schlatt uttered the words that pulled the rug out from beneath Y/N once again.

“Kill him Techno. He is a traitor.”

“Don’t you dare!” Y/N yelled out, making their way towards the stage as well.

Y/N knew Techno couldn’t deal well with social pressure, especially when there were about ten people or more behind him that could attack him at any point.

Tubbo looked so scared as he pressed himself against the wall. There was no escape for him.

When Techno moved his crossbow up, aiming directly at Tubbo, Y/N let out another scream. Urging him to stop.

Explosions. Colorful explosions filled the place.

“Y/N!” it was Tubbo screaming their name out.

Just as Techno pressed the trigger Y/N managed to jump in front, the rockets hitting them instead of Tubbo.

Their older brother looked absolutely mortified “Y/N? Wha- What? Why? How?” staring at Y/N’s lifeless body that slowly dissolved. They were slowly respawning but seeing his siblings body was enough to send him in some sort of frenzy.

Filled with bloodlust he aimed his crossbow towards Schlatt and Quackity. Killing them with one press of the trigger only to turn around and aim his crossbow towards the people.

As this happened Tommy enderpearled over, screaming at Techno.

He helped Tubbo out of the cage who was still in a state of shock. He only saw Y/N for a second and the next they were laying on the ground in their own blood.

Y/N heard the details later after they respawned. Tommy had apparently been incredibly angry at Techno, even attacking him. Wilbur then offered that the two deal with their argument via a fistfight inside a pit.

Normally Y/N would have yelled at Wilbur for that. Would have told him that this was his dumbest idea yet but they were too shook from what had happened to them.

Technoblade always spelled safety to them but he killed them. Sure, he meant to kill Tubbo but that didn’t really make it any better. They gave him an out, they would have helped fighting off all these people so they could flee.

The next time they saw Techno they flinched every time he got too close to them and yet they still put on a smile “Never, do this again.”

Techno only nodded.

After this downward slope the momentum didn’t seem to stop for them. Wilbur dropped even more and more off. Falling victim to his paranoia. Y/N tried their best convincing him to not blow up Manberg, that they will fight to gain it back. At this point trying to gain back their L’Manberg was the only thing they could hold on to.

Though all that work was for nothing.

The war to take back L’Manberg went way differently than they all had imagined. Y/N fought with a viciousness most didn’t think they had it in them. This was the day for them to finally regain what they had wished for, for the longest time now.

Everything came to a halt once Dream surrendered. He showed them Schlatt who was sitting in the Carmavan. Drunk off his mind he yelled and screamed at people only to die of a heart attack which meant that the Pogtopia faction won.

The people begun cheering, they had their home back! They were free! Y/N was probably the loudest by far. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. All this hardship and they could finally return to working with the others and rebuild L’Manberg. Return it to its former glory.

Tubbo got appointed President and Y/N was happy with it. Tubbo had an eye for building and was a good person, with him they were sure they could do some amazing things.

Apparently Techno thought otherwise. Instead he pulled Soulsand out, holding onto the Wither skulls as a visible threat.

Y/N had somewhat forgiven Techno for what had happened. It was a stressful situation and they acknowledged it but seeing him there, threatening to kill all of them? That they knew they couldn’t forgive quite so easy. Especially since he made some sound points but it was their L’Manberg. The people didn’t like living under Schlatt’s rule, this wasn’t something that could be described simply as a coup. Technically he was right but only technically. There were so many things that came into play that could let you argue over that but Techno would have none of it. Yelling something about Tommy only wanting to be a hero.

When the first explosions rang Y/N thought it came from a Wither but Techno was still in the middle of putting the heads onto the structure.

When more explosions rang and the ground beneath their feet broke away, Y/N understood what had happened.

At some point Wilbur ran off and must have pressed the button. The button that set the TNT beneath the city ablaze, effectively destroying everything.

Y/N was too busy with finding hard ground again and then dealing with the Withers and Techno that they only noticed after the fighting ended, how broken the nation was now.

They had won. Why would Wilbur do this? He knew how much the nation meant to them and again, they had won, so there was no reason for blowing the place up!

And if that wasn’t enough to see how both their older brothers destroyed everything Y/N worked for, they also had to see how Philza, their father, stood next to the corpse of Wilbur. It felt like they lost everything.

They lost their trust in Technoblade.

They lost their hopes and dreams via Wilbur blowing up the freshly liberated L’Manberg.

They lost their trust in their own father who had slain his own son.

Y/N felt absolutely crushed. Family was so important to them and it was their own family that destroyed their hopes and dreams. They did everything for them and this is how they repaid them?

Once everything calmed down and Tubbo begun making plans on how to rebuild the nation, he immediately came to Y/N for help but they hesitated which worried him.

“Is everything okay? Usually you would have jumped on that offer, Y/N.”

Y/N put on a smile that didn’t seem to reach their eyes “Don’t worry Tubbo, of course I’ll help you. I’m just tired from what we have been through. I finally have time to take a breather and I think it all just crashed down on me.”

“Well if you ever need help you can talk to me.” It was an earnest offer that Y/N would never take advantage of.

Y/N mostly ignored Philza. He talked with them a few times and even explained what has happened but Y/N still made a wide berth around him. Seeing him just hammered back down the feeling of distrust and hurt. Their familial relationship took a hard hit from that point on.

With Ghostbur it was a weird situation as well. They enjoyed spending time with him but were also always incredibly sad around him. Ghostbur took notice of this and would always offer them to take some of his blue but Y/N declined every time.

“Don’t worry Ghostbur. Everything is still just fresh in my mind. I’ll be back to my old self in no time. You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“Of course Y/N! You have always looked out for me, thank you.”

L’Manberg slowly took on a proper form again but it wasn’t the L’Manberg Y/N knew. It felt to them like they were standing on top of a grave. A grave for their dreams and it was getting hard, real hard, to walk through it every day seeing places where they know specific buildings should be standing. Buildings they build on their own only to be destroyed by their brothers doing.

Then Tubbo exiled Tommy and Y/N felt conflicted. They felt obligated to stay in L’Manberg since they were the main person people came to for builds but that was their brother. Their only brother they still trusted and felt a need to protect.

Instead of following him into exile they stayed in the city. Visiting Tommy whenever they could, noticing pretty fast that he was struggling hard with his situation and for once they didn’t feel strong enough to properly support him. Y/N tried their best but once they noticed they couldn’t reach him completely they gave up a tiny bit.

It reminded them too much of Wilbur.

So while they visited him and helped them where they could, they spent more and more time alone in their home only coming out for work and other necessary things like food. Soon it was normal to see them with ever present dark circles beneath their eyes.

Before Philza disappeared to join Techno, he would stop by Y/N’s home all the time.

“Have you eaten, yet?”

“Yes, dad. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

“I just haven’t seen you much lately and I got worried.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Hey, if you go out, please, can you tell Ghostbur to stop coming around to throw Blue inside my mailbox? He won’t listen to me but perhaps he will to you.” And they would always carry the same big smile on their face accompanied by empty eyes.

The only time their happiness reached their eyes again was when Tommy returned from his exile. They crashed into their younger sibling holding him close to them and muttering apologies. He pried them off, embarrassed by all of this.

This short bout of happiness was destroyed by Doomsday. Dream, Technoblade and Philza once again made sure to set L’Manberg ablaze.

The second time Y/N’s fruits and labor got completely annihilated by their family but still they had some hopes this time. They still had Tommy on their side they could just finally build a home somewhere else and live in peace but Tommy had other ideas. He had it in his mind to get his discs back and he would do anything for it.

So while Y/N tried to ground themself with new hopes and ideas, holding onto the only constant of what was important to them, that being Tommy, Tommy ignored them. He was too busy with his own things and the worst part was that Y/N couldn’t even fault him for it.

They understood how much these discs meant to him and that this was something that had to come to an end but with this they lost another, and possibly their last, anchor point.

Yet you could still see them running around with a smile, tending to every one and trying to help out the best they could.

Then suddenly they were gone. They just disappeared one day. The few people who took note of that took some time to look around but there was no sign as to where they left. Y/N didn’t take their armor with them nor any weapons or food.

< Y/N succumbed to despair and fell of a high place>

When every ones communicators rung out with this message the SMP fell quiet.

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was reading. This didn’t make any sense. Y/N was fine! They would talk with them and everything looked fine! This must have been a cruel joke from Dream somehow, right? This couldn’t be real. Why would Dream do this? This didn’t seem to make sense.

Exactly there was no sense in Dream doing this.

While Tommy was battling with his thoughts Tubbo came running over to him. Tears streamed down his face.

“What happened? Why did this happen? Where are they?”

Tommy was visibly shaking “I- I have no idea. I don’t know. They looked fine. I’m- I’m not sure. Tubbo-“

Tubbo just slammed into him, giving him a proper hug, trying his best to help Tommy through his rising panic. He lost another sibling and by Ender that hurt.

Meanwhile in the snowy Tundra both Philza and Techno were staring at their communicators as well.

Philza was pale. So pale it almost rivaled the snow around him.

Techno had his brows furrowed. For anyone who didn’t know him well enough he looked at best displeased with this situation but Philza could see the small details that told a different story. Him sucking his breath in as he read the message, hiding his quivering lip in his cloak. He was heartbroken.

Sure the two weren’t on good speaking terms but Y/N was still his younger sibling. He still loved them.

Philza felt similar. He acknowledged that he screwed up and honored their wish to be left alone by him but he never imagined this could lead to their death. His knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Two of his children died, one directly by his hand and the other due to his inaction.

His eyes glossed over, the world became a blur and yet he continued rereading this message over and over. Y/N just lost their last life.

Philza could hear Techno walk closer to him and sat down on the ground as well.

“Y/N is-“ Philza begun but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. State the obvious to his eldest son?

“I have more fault in this than you, dad. Don’t feel guilty.” His voice was uncharacteristically weak. Wavering as he spoke. He wanted to cheer Philza up but it was a weak attempt.

“What have we done.”

Ghostbur was at first confused when he read the message. It was like he couldn’t connect the dots but it slowly dawned on him what this meant.

“Oh my.” His usual happy demeanor was suddenly gone.

He touched his face and as he put his hands back down he saw how they were smeared with blue.

“Y/N is dead?”

His usual ghost behavior seemed to break a bit. It was like through the warped version of Wilbur that was called Ghostbur for a moment the true version of him came through again. And he was hurt. Devastated.

“I think I need to find the others.” He mumbled to himself, making his way towards his family. All the while he held onto the blue wool of Friend like a lifeline. Combing through it nervously. Blue continuing to spill from his eyes.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x Y/N #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp reader insert #dsmp x reader #sbi #sleepy bois inc #ramza writes #Anonymous #anon request

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krabmeat · 3 years

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can you do,, a karlnapity x NB reader where,, the reader has tics? it can be HCS or,, a scenario,, whatever you want,, :V (xe/xem pronouns please,,)

a-also I'm kinda anxious to ask,, but can I be always anxious anon?

𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝!

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚕𝙽𝚊𝚙𝙸𝚝𝚢 𝚡 𝚝𝚒𝚌!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌)

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: Karl, Sapnap, Quackity

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: tic repression, mentions of stress

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

AHHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH-- i got caught up in other projects and general personal life, im so sorry always anxious anon :[ but id be absolutely honored to have you be apart of my anons, welcome to the group!!! i should really make a list of my anons, huh? regardless, i hope the fic is up to your standards! anyone with tics feel free to tell me if any of this is inaccurate or give feedback, id be glad to receive feedback!

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

-Each of the boys find out about Y/ns tics individually!

-Karl finds out after the two finish binging a really intense show together! Once the episode was finished, Karl turned to Y/n when he saw Y/n consistently snapping their fingers. He didn’t know what they were doing so he did snappy finger guns at them jokingly, but he soon became concerned when they didn’t stop. Y/n had to explain what was happening while they were ticcing.

“Y/N!! OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO-“

Karl stops in confusion as he stares at his friend. Y/n is watching the credits roll as they snap their fingers together at a rapid yet spirratic pace. Their shoulders seem to be a bit tense, but Karl doesn’t seem to notice this as he chuckles and does snapping finger guns at Y/n in a joking manner. Soon he becomes concerned when they don’t stop which is when he sees their scrunched shoulders.

“Y/n? Y/n are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah! Don’t worry, I’m just ticcing. Please just leave me be for a sec, it’ll pass.”

“What- ticcing?”

Karl then proceeds to take out his phone and googles what ticcing is.

“OHHHH, OKAY GOTCHA!”

Y/n lets out a chuckle at their clumsily curious friend.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

-Quackity found out when he and Y/n finally met up for the first time. When they found each other in the airport, Y/n kept shouting "BAM!" because they were just so excited and happy!

"Y/n? Y/n!! I'm over here!"

Quackity quickly walks over to Y/n until they finally spot him. Y/n is of course, clearly happy! So happy that they’ve started shouting “BAM!” over and over again. Quackity hesitates a bit, confused. He at first thinks that it's a joke or something that they are doing until he realizes that Y/n hasn't stopped. “What's going on, are you okay?” It takes Y/n a second to realize that they’re vocally ticcing- very loudly at that- so they quickly grab Quackity by his black hoodie and the two of them start running to Y/n’s car. Y/n is sitting in the driver's seat while Quackity is in the passenger's. He tries to speak up and question Y/n before they put a finger up, signaling for him to wait. They breathe in through their mouth and out through their nose for a couple of minutes until finally their vocal tics have subsided. “Sorry, I was meaning to tell you sooner since we had planned to meet up weeks before but I didn't want you thinking I was weird or something, I didn't think it would happen when you arrived at the airport-! Do you know what tics are?”

“Ticks? Like the bug?”

Y/n chuckles lightly, shaking their head before continuing to tell their friend what ticcing is.

“Ohhhh, so that's what it is then. Why would you think I'd think you're weird cause of that? Seems fine to me!” Y/n sighs in relief, happy that they have such an understanding friend.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

-Sapnap found out when the two of them were doing a stream irl together!

-The two of them were just out on the town, chilling in a small park

-Y/n was trying really, really hard to repress their tics because they were in front of a couple thousand of people and even more in public

-The chat and Sapnap both noticed how uncomfortable and slightly worn Y/n looked, so they ended the stream a bit early

“Alright chat, were gonna leave this stream at that for today!-”

Chat knew why the stream was ending early, I mean they were all worried for Y/n after all! And so was Sapnap. He could see how tense Y/n looked so he figured that the camera in their face wasn't the best thing to be going on at the moment for them. Y/n said a brief goodbye to the stream before it ended. Once the camera was finally down and away, that's when he asked if there was anything up.

“Hey Y/n, is everything alright? You seem tense dude, I'm worried.”

Right as he said that, they started rapidly blinking and rubbing their palms together uncontrollably.

“Yeah- yeah, search up ticcing for context, I've been meaning to tell you sooner. I'm sorry this happened at such a bad time.”

He searches up ticcing and gets himself into a short rabbit hole of quickly researching what it is and when it happens. Soon Sapnap realized that since he and Y/n decided to stream on the day that they arrived in Texas, they must be extremely fatigued and jet-lagged which is why their tics were acting up so strongly. The two of them just sat there for a minute, waiting patiently for Y/n’s tics to subside. Anyone who walked past and gave them a weird look, Sapnap shot a glare right back at them which was enough for the people to walk quicker. Once Y/n’s tics stopped, they immediately tried to apologize.

“Oh my god I'm so sorry for not saying anything, I didn’t think-”

“Hey, hey! It's really not a problem, I totally get it! Let me know if there's anything I can ever help you with. Wanna go back to my place and watch a movie or something?”

And that they did! The two had a Coraline movie marathon and they both ended up falling asleep on the couch.

-All in all, the karlnapity boys were all super supportive and understanding of Y/n and their tics! It didn't change their opinion on them at all and in fact just made the four closer than before :]

-But the fellas totally ended up getting on a discord call to do a bunch of research together to figure out how to make Y/n feel the most comfortable, as well as more information on tics and how to help with them!

#karl jacobs x reader #quackity x reader #sapnap x reader #tic!reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x platonic reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #karlnapity x reader

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dreamsclock · 3 years

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Ok ok but what about a world where c!Dream is broken out of prison by c!george and they escape, george helps him and supports him but once they're away and somewhere safe and Dream is slightly more lucid, he's more conscious suddenly he can't be touched anymore. Even though George has spent days or weeks practically carrying him, once he's recovered enough, he rejects it.

For months, maybe even years, and George comes to terms with it, because as long as dream is okay then he's happy, and they're living their quiet little life far away from the server, where its peaceful and nobody can hurt Dream anymore, even though his hands still twinge from where c!Quackity ground his heel into them, and he still has a scar in the shape of a 'Q' on his bicep.

Until one quiet evening, sitting in the grass together watching the birds, Dream leans in and rests his head on George's lap. And then all of a sudden, it feels like hes finally healed.

(God i have such brainrot help)

-March

this ask felt like the perfect time to try challenging myself to write no-dialogue (until the end) - it’s so pretty and i can picture it in my head so much :’) this has made me a little insecure because i’m so used to writing dialogue askdsk, so i hope it’s still okay !! i listened to THIS SONG on repeat if you wanna get into the mood of it, and because i love symbolism, HERE is the list i used for birds and their meanings!! :]

EDIT / UPDATE: this has been tagged as tw ableism, just because in the fic i’ve a) implied healing for c!dream comes in the form of returning to physical touch and b) dealt with the “returning to physical touch” part in a way that would potentially overwhelm someone in real life. it’s absolutely untrue that a person needs to ““return”” to physical contact to heal — this wasn’t what i meant to imply at all !! i’m not going to delete the ficlet because i do think it’s important to see how ableism slips into our everyday lives, but i just wanted to be safe and tag it — i’m glad it’s been pointed out to me: there have been some edits in the fic too. :))

warnings: trauma, scars, branding mention, implications of torture

Thing is, George has never been a very touchy-feely person. He has always liked physical affection, sure, but he’s never been as fond of it as Sapnap or Quackity or Bad or Dream, all of whom have always gone out of their ways to shower their friends and loved ones in as much physicality as they possibly could. He knows it’s not Dream’s primary language either - knows Dream gives gifts more than he does physical touch, but also knows that in some cases physical touch is his gift: his hugs, his hair playing, his hand, warm and heavy in George’s.

And maybe it’s because it’s Dream’s language that George misses it so much, maybe it’s because there’s something so intrinsically Dream about physical affection that he wakes up feeling like he’s missing a part of himself. George deals with it, because it’s something he has to, in a very practical sense, but also because he’d never inflict something on Dream he’s not comfortable with, and he hasn’t been comfortable with physical contact in a long, long time. He strains to remember the last time they’d even brushed by each other without Dream stiffening up and tensing and growing pale, and stumbles across the tear-blurred memory of tracing the letter scarred and carved into his bicep, over and over with the tip of his finger, Q, Q, Q, while Dream had slept fitfully beside him. It had been well over two years ago, before Dream had started speaking again, started laughing, started living, and George wouldn’t dream of it now.

Because he may feel like he’s missing a part of himself, but the truth is, Dream is there in other ways he hadn’t been before. George can’t remember the last time Dream had been open with his feelings before this, can’t remember the last time he’d, tentatively, let himself show weakness, and feels like he rediscovers a new piece of himself with every new step in recovery Dream makes. A warmth takes residence in his chest, grows soft and bright when he sees Dream hum along to his old song in the kitchen one morning, lost in his own little world. It gets bigger and warmer as the months pass until sometimes it feels like it’s going to burst out of him, join with Dream’s, who also seems possessed with the light George feels: George clings to the warm bubble in his chest, treasures it, clutches it protectively when he hears Dream’s laugh. He’s lost a part of Dream he doesn’t think he will ever get back, but found new beauty, new parts, that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

Dream’s voice draws him back to the present gently, tethers him to land from his sea of thoughts. George blinks, turns to look where Dream is pointing, spotting the bird he’s talking about: two bluebirds, sitting close on a branch, nestling together and chirping sweetly as the sun begins to set. Dream has gained new interests, too: no longer quite as taken with sparring and duels and fighting (they’ve had more than their share of those), he’s drawn to nature instead, to plants and animals and in particular, birds. George knows the names of more birds than he’d ever thought possible, writes them all down in a little book in order to hold conversation with Dream about them, who can speak for hours and hours about birds while George listens contently. Dream has gone through crows and owls to cranes and hummingbirds and bluebirds, and George remembers it all vividly; remembers every little detail about Dream now, from the freckles on his face to his favourite bird to the exact angle the sun hits him at this position, because finally he has the ability to.

It takes him a minute, gazing at Dream in a peaceful haze of the evening, to actually realise what is happening; takes him a minute to place the heavy weight curling around his hand as Dream’s.

George doesn’t jerk back with surprise, doesn’t squeeze his hand. He lets his hand stay as it is, tangled in the long grass of the tree they sit under, and tilts his head to face Dream, who gazes back, uncertain, hesitant, but not pulling away. And then Dream is twisting, a slow, graceful shift so that by the time George blinks, Dream’s head is in his lap and their hands are intertwined and the sun is shining on both of them as it sets, golden light spilling over them. Dream takes a deep, shuddering breath, free hand fisting in the grass, and it takes him a long couple of minutes to adjust to the feeling of warm hands and a warm lap, but they sit in silence until he’s ready — sit in silence for ten minutes, twenty minutes, until his breathing eases and his expression relaxes and things become easier.

And George smiles, watching it creep over Dream’s own face like they’re sharing the expression.

“Welcome home,” he whispers, and Dream’s eyes slip shut, contented bliss and relief running like gold dust through his smile. His eyes are closed, but George keeps his open, gazing down at Dream with the warm light inside him exploding into a supernova inside him, and is the only one who sees the swan flying into the horizon above them.

#> my asks !!#> my writing !!#> my favourites !!#> dnf :]#tw trauma #tw scars #tw branding #tw torture #tw ableism #tw unintentional ableism

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onecanonlife · 3 years

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In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first part) (previous part) (next part)

(word count: 3,960)

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Part Ten: Wilbur II

Wilbur wakes the morning of the election as President of L’Manberg, and he ends the evening of the election as President of L’Manberg, voted back into office by due democratic process.

There are things in between, of course. He reads out the results for all the SMP members to hear, as well as for those who have been following the event from different servers. He makes a speech, promises protection and safety for his citizens, promises renewed growth and prosperity and above all else, freedom from tyranny. He makes a good case for it all, he’s fairly sure, though he forgets the words that he speaks as soon as he leaves his podium.

There’s a bit of a celebration, after. Impromptu, unplanned, but those are the best kind. They all pitch in, scrounge up food and drink and games to play for when they get a bit tipsy, and it’s good.

He smiles through it.

He smiles when Tubbo claps him on the back, hooting and hollering. He smiles when Niki runs up to him and throws her arms around him in an embrace, even though she was running against him. He smiles when Eret sidles up to him, murmuring congratulations and briefly pressing his hand. He even smiles when a few citizens of the Greater SMP come to join in, Sapnap and Punz and Ponk and Karl. He smiles and smiles and smiles, and why shouldn’t he smile?

This is what he wanted. To know that his people continue to have faith in him, that they still believe him best for the job. To hold on to power, but to do it the right way. To be given full permission to assure the safety and freedom of those he loves, and the land that he has made.

The smile only slips twice.

Once: meeting Fundy’s eyes across the way. Fundy breaks his gaze just as quickly, glancing to the side, and he doesn’t come to speak with him. He’s not sure what to do about that. He’s not so blind as to not notice the tension that’s sprung into place between them lately, though he still can’t ascertain its origin. And it’s only gotten worse now, of course—but what did Fundy expect, that he would just let him commit voter fraud? He’s disappointed in his actions, and he can’t disguise that. Shouldn’t have to disguise that, because Fundy ought to know that wasn’t the right thing to do. But that means that his son steers clear of him. And he’ll admit that it hurts. Both for that, and for the fact that Fundy would do such a thing in the first place.

So the smile slips, when no one is looking.

But that is once, and twice comes now: Tommy bounding up to him, grin bright and wild, eyes shining with a light that he hasn’t seen there in—too long. Far, far too long. That light has been present all day, ever since he stepped up to the podium and announced the results, and Tommy let out a whoop and a holler and pumped his fist into the air like he was trying to punch the daylight from the sky, and it was so very Tommy that in that moment, he could feel nothing but relief. In general, Tommy’s seemed very relaxed. Celebratory, jubilant. As he should be.

And now, here he is, beaming, staring him in the face, gripping his arms. Eyes shining.

“How we feeling, big man?” he asks, loud and carefree, and it’s obvious from the way that he asks that he expects a certain kind of answer. Wilbur is more than happy to give it to him. He reaches out to ruffle his hair, and Tommy ducks away, but even that scowl doesn’t last for long.

“I’m on top of the world,” he says, and feels his own smile widen. For the first time in a while, he can look at Tommy and not feel pressing worry, not feel a tightness in his chest and a certainty in his bones that something is very, very wrong, that something has happened, and that in some way, he has failed. “We fucking did it, man.”

“We sure fucking did!” Tommy crows. “You and me, best fucking—best fucking day ever. We’re gonna make sure that L’Manberg’s the best country in the literal history of everything. And you’ll be the best president.”

“Of course I will,” he says. “That’s why they’ve elected me.”

Tommy nods sagely. Still grinning. Still bright-eyed. “It’s all going to be alright,” he says, voice lowering just a little. He sounds so very sincere. “Everything’s actually gonna be alright. You’re gonna do so great. You’re gonna do great, right?”

Of course he will. He will not settle for anything less. This duty has been entrusted to him once again, and he will not let his city fail, nor his people fall. He is the one they look to. He built this nation, and he must protect it. He will be great. He has more than just his own hopes riding on his back, and anything less than greatness is unacceptable, both for his own sake and for that of everyone else, for his own legacy and for the seeds planted in the present.

“We’re gonna do great,” he says. “You and I, and all of us.”

“Hell yeah,” Tommy says, and glances around him, at the celebration, still under full swing. Quackity has somehow obtained a stripper pole, and both Karl and Sapnap are looking on in great interest as he displays his talents in that area. Wilbur finds himself watching for a moment too long before tearing his gaze away. But Tommy doesn’t pay mind to any of that—which is good, because he is a child, a little baby man, and maybe he should go over to Quackity and talk about him toning it down, actually, while the minors are here—and instead brings his focus back around to him again.

“They all love you man, y’know?” Tommy says, voice going softer still. He finds his own expression gentling to match.

“They love this,” he agrees. “They love L’Manberg.”

“Because what’s not to love?” Tommy says, nodding in satisfaction. “Really, though, man. You’re gonna be alright. You’re gonna do great. No reason to worry about anything, y’know?”

“Okay, that’s a little concerning, coming from you,” he says. “Are there any shenanigans I should know about?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Tommy says, swatting at his arm. “I’m gonna go find where Tubbo got off to. But just, have a good night, yeah, Wil? You’ve really earned it. Future’s looking up.”

“I will,” he says. “And you too, Tommy, you’ve earned this just as much as I have. Maybe even more. Go have fun.” He pauses. “And if there do happen to be any shenanigans, let me know, would you? It’s been a while since I took part in any good old-fashioned shenanigans.”

Tommy casts him one last grin, brilliant as any sunrise he’s seen. And then, he’s off, weaving through everyone else. It’s good, that he’s happy. It’s been so long since he’s seemed truly happy. It gives Wilbur hope. Whatever damage was done to him that night, when he chose to give up his discs, maybe he really will bounce back. And he’s noticed that he and Tubbo have been closer again, so maybe that will help, too. Tommy will be okay.

Then, a wave of exhaustion hits him, apparently out of nowhere, and his smile slips.

He brings it up again in the next moment. But the fatigue remains—and he supposes it makes sense. It’s been a long, rather stressful day. Perhaps it’s time he turned it in.

Niki’s the first one he finds, and she smiles at his approach. There is still an air of tension about her—lingering frustration, he imagines, at the stunt Fundy tried to pull. He believes her when she says she was unaware. But she doesn’t seem to have any qualms about him, thank goodness, because he bears her no ill will for the incident. Or even Fundy—he is disappointed to be sure, but he doesn’t love his son any less. Nothing at all could make that happen. Perhaps he ought to make sure Fundy knows that.

Later, though. When they’ve both cooled down a bit.

“Hey, Wil,” she says. “Good party, huh?”

“It is,” he says. “I’m sort of beat, though, so I think I might go hit the hay, as it were. Just wanted to tell someone before I left, in case anyone wondered.”

“Okay,” she says, and her eyes pinch around the edges a little bit. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

She nods. “It’s been a long day,” she says, echoing his thoughts. “I’ll let everyone know, if they ask.” Her smile returns, full force, and she steps forward and takes his hand in hers. “Really, though, congratulations. I’m really proud of you. Anyone can see how much you care about this place, and that’s why they want you to keep leading it.”

His mouth has, unaccountably, gone slightly dry. “I do care,” he says. “But we all do. I mean, you literally made our flag. I don’t think I’ve told you enough how cool that is.”

“I wanted to,” she says simply, though she’s obviously pleased. “You don’t have to thank me for it. Every country should have a flag.”

“And every country should have someone who cares enough to sew it,” he says. “I’m glad it was you.”

“And I’m glad that this is you,” Niki replies, making a gesture toward the festivities around them, and the empty stage over to the side. Her eyes sharpen. “Even if I kind of wanted to be vice president. But you’re a good leader, Wilbur, and you’re a good man. A good friend. You deserve this. So go get some sleep, alright? Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, saluting, and she rolls her eyes, pushing him away.

“Go on,” she insists, but there is laughter in her voice and a crinkle at the corners of her eyes, and she looks happy, too. Everyone looks very happy. Even Fundy seems to be involved in things by now, and Quackity, his fiercest competition, appears to be enjoying himself.

Everyone is happy. So is he. There’s no reason at all for him not to be.

He tells himself that he’s going to go get some sleep, but his feet take him back to his office, instead. It’s empty, cast in a dim haze until he switches on the light, and just like that, the darkness is gone. His eyes flit across his desk, his chair, his shelves, all the paperwork that he’s definitely going to have to deal with, now that he knows for sure that he will continue to lead. He also has a potted plant, though he can’t quite recall who gave it to him. Might have been Tubbo, but he’s not sure.

He doesn’t sit. He goes to the window, presses himself up against it close enough to see the outside rather than his own reflection in the glass. Torchlight flickers, illuminating the country before him, and the walls are looming giants in the deepening night. He can see the cluster of lights where the others are, too, and he can see their dancing shadows, glimpses of their faces, far away echoes of their laughter.

Maybe he ought to go back. Some part of him wants to. He’s not sure why he’s holding himself away.

It’s probably because he’s tired. Because he is. Tired. Very tired.

It has been a long day.

He watches for a moment longer, and then closes his curtains, shutting out the world beyond this room. He turns to his desk, then, and his paperwork, though he’s loath to actually work on anything tonight, despite the fact that there’s a million things he could be doing. Drafting a formal missive to Dream, for instance, in light of his official election to power. Ensuring continued good standings between their nations—because as little as he likes the man, he’s not going to provoke him again, if it can be helped.

Especially not with Tommy—the way that he is. Not until he’s gotten to the bottom of that, and probably not even after.

So, he should write to Dream. He should also write to Phil. Tell him about what’s been going on. He’s been considering asking for advice on the whole Tommy situation, actually—Phil’s old as balls, so maybe he might know what to do, or even what this could be about. It’s a long shot, of course, but it’s worth a try.

Except he doesn’t particularly want to do either of those things. Not at the moment. But then, that doesn’t leave him with a whole lot of options, so why did he come here in the first place if he didn’t intend to do something? He ought to go to bed, like he said he would.

But then—

“Hey, Wilbur,” Quackity says, and he looks up, blinking. Quackity’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. Somewhere along the line, he’s regained his clothes. “Knock, knock.”

“Quackity,” he says. “Good to see you. Here, come in, pull up a chair.”

Quackity quirks a brow, but that seems to be all the invitation he needs. He all but saunters in, grabbing one of the chairs and tugging it right up against the desk.

“I actually did want to speak with you at some point,” he continues.

“Then this works out, doesn’t it?” Quackity says. “I had the same idea. I figured we should clear the air or something like that. If it even needs clearing, I dunno. What do you think?”

“It certainly can’t hurt to talk,” he agrees.

“Right,” Quackity says. “Well, I guess I should start off by saying good job. Congrats on winning.” He smiles, and there’s something sharp in it, something of a challenge. Wilbur can’t say that he hates it; it’s good to be challenged, every now and then. And now, there’s less danger in it, his position secure. “Though I really gave you a run for your money, didn’t I? And Jack, of course.”

Jack’s name is added as an afterthought. He’s always had the impression that Quackity would rather have picked someone else for his running mate. But he left it fairly late, and by the time he decided that he definitely wanted one, there weren’t many people left to choose from. Tubbo wouldn’t have joined him, and Eret stayed out of the whole affair, and in terms of L’Manberg citizens, that pretty much just left Jack Manifold.

He wonders who Quackity would have chosen, if he’d had free reign of the SMP. Somehow, he’s glad that didn’t happen. Good foresight, on Tommy’s part, to add that restriction. And a good idea in general, too.

“You did,” he says with a nod. “It was a good showing. You were the one I was worried about, to be honest with you. If anyone could have beaten me, it would have been you.”

“You’re damn right,” Quackity answers. “We got close. But no cigar, I guess. There’s always next time.”

Next time. Next time.

Right. Elections are a fairly regular thing. He’ll have to do this again.

Right, no, that’s—fine. It’s fine. And it wouldn’t be for a while yet, so he doesn’t even have to think about it right now.

“But I just wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings between us,” Quackity says. He leans back in his chair, tipping it so that only two legs rest on the floor, and he regards him. “I mean, I meant what I said on the campaign trail, and I still stand by it. I don’t know that you’re taking this country in the best direction, Wilbur. I don’t know that it’s not gonna—stagnate, under you, or that Dream won’t come up and declare war again. I meant all of that. But it’s not like I don’t like you as a person, and you’ve won fair and square, so I was hoping we could put our differences behind us. Let bygones be bygones and all that.”

He’s heard everything that Quackity has to say on the matter of his leadership, and hearing it all again is a bit—irritating. But the honesty is refreshing, was then and still is now, and he’d rather these things be said to his face than whispered behind his back.

And also, there’s the fact that it’s Quackity. It was Tommy who convinced him to let him join in the first place, but the man’s grown on him, he’ll confess.

“I would have trusted you to lead,” he admits, and meets Quackity’s gaze squarely. “I disagree with you on quite a few matters, but I believe that you have L’Manberg’s best interests at heart. So as far as I’m concerned, it’s all water under the bridge.”

He speaks nothing but the truth. Quackity is—not precisely the vision he has in mind for L’Manberg’s future. But he cares about this place, that much is obvious. So if Quackity had won, he would have bowed out gracefully, would have established himself some property and entered a graceful retirement, at—at peace. Surely at peace, all of his questions answered and his guidance unneeded. His person no longer required.

His stomach turns, a gut-churning combination of longing and revulsion flooding him, impacting him so intensely that it’s a half-second scramble to make sure that none of it shows on his face, to lock everything back down again, to be interpreted later or forgotten about, depending on his mood.

“That’s great to hear,” Quackity says. “Friends?”

Quackity sticks out his hand.

“Friends,” he agrees, and takes it.

“Fantastic,” Quackity says. “I guess that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.” He gestures broadly, lips twitching upward. “Niki said you were gonna get some sleep, so I’d do that before she finds out you’re not.”

He can’t help but laugh, and Quackity stands. “I’ll take that under consideration,” he says. “Good night, Quackity.”

“Night, Wilbur,” Quackity says, and turns to go. But then, he stops in the doorway, looking back. “I just gotta ask, though, why all of this? Why have an election at all? Why risk losing? If you wanted to stay in charge, why not just stay in charge? No one would’ve questioned you, but instead, you put on all of this. Just to keep a position you ended up keeping anyway.”

Ah. His mind blanks for a moment, because he doesn’t know how to describe to Quackity the fact that people were already questioning him, if he didn’t pick up on that. But surely, he must have; Quackity himself built his entire campaign around questioning him. His right to lead, his capability, his intentions. And those sentiments could not have come from nowhere.

To be honest, he’s not certain that he has the words to explain it to himself, either.

“I could ask the same of you,” he says, “in regards to your running.”

Quackity stands there for a moment. And then tilts his head.

“I think we both know the answer to that, Wilbur,” he says, and his next smile is a wry thing. “See you tomorrow.”

And then, he’s gone.

And Wilbur does know.

He is not blind to Quackity’s desire for power. His desire to do something good with it, to be sure—he’s never caught any malice in his seeking. But what he seeks is power, and there is no mistaking that. Sometimes, Wilbur looks in his eyes and sees a reflection of himself. Paler, different, slanted, but a reflection nonetheless. He has heard the siren’s call of ambition and heard it well, and he recognizes that in Quackity, and Quackity recognizes it in him.

But it’s not just about power. Not for him, anyway. Or rather, it is power, to be sure, but it’s the power to keep safe. To protect. To be free. And to build something great, something that will outlive him, something that will make him worthy of the looks in people’s eyes when they meet his. That’s what it was about. And that’s why the election mattered.

Though for a moment, he lets himself picture it: retirement. A house, with plenty of room. Time to spare, for everyone and everything. A guitar, finally tuned again. A warm summer’s day, and a crisp autumn’s evening. No pressure, few responsibilities, and an hour or several to sit under his own vine and fig tree.

But he doesn’t think he’s made for things like that, really.

And even besides, these idle speculations don’t matter. Quackity didn’t win, and he remains president of this nation. There will be no quiet retirement, not yet. There is so much work that he has to do, and he can feel all those future tasks piling on his shoulders, weights stacking on his skin, clinging like barnacles on a weathered, abandoned pier.

And it’s all alright, because it’s what he wants.

Without this, where would he stand? With himself, and with the others? They all look to him for a reason, so what would happen if that reason were gone?

No. Best not to let his mind wander down that path.

His ambitions are realized. The elections are over. His people are happy, and they still want him. They still believe he can do right by them. They are celebrating his victory even now. Tommy was smiling, and there was none of that strange, terrifying darkness in his gaze.

He has everything he wants.

He checks his communicator, idly. There’s a few messages from people on the server, those who aren’t at the party. Most are congratulatory. There’s Dream, asking for a meeting already, but he anticipated that. There’s even a few messages from people off-world, and he raises an eyebrow at those—inter-server communication costs a pretty penny, so he’s a bit surprised that Technoblade put the effort in to send a message that just says lame. Or maybe he shouldn’t be surprised at all. And Schlatt’s sent him some snarky congratulations, and he supposes he should answer him, since he went through the trouble. Though he’s not going to invite him, still, no matter how nice it might be to catch up. Not until he figures out what Tommy’s problem with him is, and whether it’s solvable.

But he types out a response to both, a quick Like you can talk, Potato Man to Techno and something a bit longer and properly sarcastic to Schlatt, wincing at the cost of shooting the messages through the void, across worlds, and then sets his communicator to the side. Stares at his desk, then at the covered window. He can still hear them.

He stopped smiling at some point. He doesn’t know when.

He picks up his pen, then sets it back down again. Drags a paper closer with his index finger, and then pushes it back. Slips his hand into his pocket to find his glasses, and then brings it out again, empty of everything but dust.

There’s work to do, and he should either get started or he should go to sleep, but his brain doesn’t seem to want to get the memo. So he sits.

He’s tired. That’s why he’s in this kind of mood. He’s tired, so he’ll just sit here until he feels ready to get some true rest, and it’ll all look better in the morning. Not that it doesn’t look good now.

But he is very tired.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #quackity #nihachu #dsmp fic #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #time travel au #if this fic were divided into acts #this would mark the end of act 1 :)

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simprura · 4 years

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After-Stream Comforting: Quackity x Fem! Reader

*°:⋆ₓₒ 1K Words ₓₒ⋆:°*

Aaah my first Tumblr Fic!! I really hope you guys like this one, it’s my first Quackity/Alexis fic so expect some errors!! xp Anyways I hope you guys love it just as much as i did. I wrote it based on what i wanted if you couldn’t tell xd Leave your Criticims below!! Happy reading :))

You laid on your boyfriend – Quackity’s – Single-sized bed watching him stream Jackbox with his friends GeorgeNotFound, Karl Jacobs, SapNap, and BadBoyHalo. they played a copious amount of jackbox games together. Laughter erupted from his mouth, Entertained by the inappropriate answers his online friends gave in Quiplash. A faint noise could be heard from his headset; a chorus of indistinct laughter from his 4 fellow streamers signified that they were all equally enjoying themselves. You however weren’t having the best day and wanted your dear lover to end his stream – you really wanted some form of affection. Alexis had known that you would get like this sometimes and he usually knew how to handle you; a dose of sweet talk and cuddles usually made things better but today had proven to be particularly bad.

You had been feeling very unlovable that day, some dark stuff from your past had always been convincing you that you were a terrible person and incapable of love. These dark thoughts swirled and consumed you like a hungry monster. This hungry monster wanted to feed on your worries and self-doubts and make you bedridden for days on end. You were thankful you had Alexis there to reassure you that you were deserving of love and that things were going to be fine, but had slowly started to worry if you were 'too much’ for him to handle.

You tossed in his bed, upset with yourself and how you were acting. You always hated yourself when you got in this mood but you always had s hard time getting yourself out of it. You faced the wall, a stuffed bear wrapped in your arms and tears threatening to spill. Alex looked over to see your slumped and depressed form sticking out from the rough stone wall. His attention was quickly taken back by his friends yelling at him “Nonononono! Karl-“ He burst into another laughing fit. His laugh was always contagious and always put a smile on your face, but not on this gloomy occasion.

Alexis’s worries grew inside of him, too. He hated seeing you lie this, so beat down and miserable, he ached to do something – anything to cheer you up; it was in his DNA. He debated ending his stream to come comfort you but he had only been live for an hour and a half; cutting it off now would make this one of his shortest streams ever. He went back and forth debating if it would be worth it. His fans would surely understand, right? Right?

He took one more glance at you, you remained unchanged; still in the same position from the last time he looked at you. He was brought back to his stream by SapNap hollering at him. He yelled back him jokingly to ‘Shut the fuck up’, immediately laughing after. Taking one more side glance he decided that you were more important than any stream “Okay fellas, I think- I think I’m going to wrap it up here. Sorry for the short stream guys.”. His friends begged for him to stay, they wanted to finish their current games “C’mon man! One more game, it’ll be quick!” Sapnap pleaded. “Yeah it’ll be super quick!” Karl added on, hoping to change Alex’s mind, but he was set on you. “Nah, I’m good. Next time I promise!” Quackity said before muting himself to read off a few more donations.

As he turned off his stream and shut his computer down, he moved to you and moved to lay behind you. “Hey Pumpkin, you okay?” He asked. “I dunno, I just- I don’t feel good about myself right now. I’m sorry I’m being such a downer.” It was exhausting to talk. “I can tell when you’re upset, y’know. Do you wanna talk about it?” You flipped yourself over to face your boyfriends, tears starting to trickle out. “I-I’m sorry…” You started to sob into Alexis, him pulling you into an embrace. “Hey, hey- what’s wrong bubba?” He planted a gentle kiss on your forehead and began to pet your hair, soothing you. “I just um- I just feel really bad about feeling like this all the time.” Alexis was puzzled. “Feeling like what love?” You paused for a moment, thinking about how to describe your feelings. “I feel bad about…about not feeling like I deserve your love and affection…” He was silent, thinking about what to say next. You filled the empty noise “And – um, I feel bad that you always have to comfort me…” Alexis spoke up “Bubba what? Don’t you ever feel bad about feeling sad. It’s more than okay to feel those kinds of feelings – and like – I’m always going to be here for you, okay? Forever and always.”

He moves his hands to your face, gently wiping the stray tears running down your cheeks and to your nose. “You wanna know why?” You nodded, too tired to speak. “Because I love you so very much.” He again kissed you on the forehead, moving to your cheeks and squeezing you in another hug. “I love you so much!!!” He spoke between a frenzy of kisses he was placed on your face “I – Love – You – So – So – So – much!!” You started giggling, his kisses were soft and each one tickled you a little. Alexis smiled with glee when he heard you laugh. His favorite thing to do was make people laugh, and to hear you laugh at his actions made him thrilled. He stopped to look back at you, looking into your (E/C) orbs. “As long as you’re with me, I’m going to love you and care about you endlessly, okay?” You smiled, the last of your tears streaming down as you nodded. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.” “Anything for you, love” He gave you one last kiss on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in a circular motion on that spot. Not long after you both fell asleep, both exhausted from your days.

Fin~

#quackity #quackity x reader #x reader #Dream SMP #Minecraft #Youtuber #Youtube #Twitch #Sapnap #BadBoyHalo #Karl Jacobs #wowow first tumblr fic lets gooooo #i really like this #im proud ngl #fic suggestions in the comments!#and your criticisms lolol #enjoy as fuck

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