#also DREAMXD FINALE?!?! IS EVERYONE READY

[stellocchia]

Thinking about how I would interpret the various people from the Dream smp winning the elytra contest:

Tubbo: Built the wings himself. They have a certain steampunk vibe to them. Really bulky, but also really cool looking.

Tommy: Moth wings. Screw everyone who says otherwise, man is a moth hybrid. But, well, insect wings are very fragile and he’s never felt safe enough to use them until now.

Ranboo: Recently received a gift from the council. It's a rare item that can be found only in the end. They hope it'll help him remember, it probably won't.

Georgenotfound: Got gifted some wings from DreamXD. He is not sure why or when, and he's not even entirely certain they're real. He may simply still be dreaming...

Sapnap: Lava wings. They're very droopy. He hasn't been maintaining them too well, and only recently got back into taking the lava baths he needs for them regularly.

Sam: He also built his own wings. They're lava-powered and look as if they were made of obsidian. They were initially meant to be part of the guard's uniform for the prison but... well. He's the only one working there, isn't he?

Ponk: Stitched them onto themselves as a medical experiment. They don't know how to take them off now, but they seem to work?

Bad: Huge af demon wings. He's 9'6 so his wings actually have to be enormous. Only reason why he hasn't used them before is that he was afraid to hit someone with them. Turns out he does that anyway even without using them, so there's really no reason anymore.

Fundy: The bird genes from his grandpa are finally manifesting. Perhaps biology does make some sense on the smp finally!

Wilbur: Pretty sure that's just a piece of the void sticking to him. Straight up ripped a piece of Limbo and brought it with him when he came back. Just another thing he hates about himself.

Punz: He knew someone high up who owed him a favor. Don't ask.

Purpled: Alien tech! He couldn't repair his ufo entirely, and those are his best bet to get off-server while he's working on his new one. They're meant to be a temporary solution, but they're pretty cool.

Eret: Flamingo wings. Ngl, they sort of forgot they had them.

Jack Manifold: similar to Wilbur's situation, but Jack's wings are very glitched. He was too afraid to die again to try and use them, but he's got to a point now where he doesn't care too much if that actually happens.

Niki: Hand-sewn wings that she made herself. It took ages for her to find a way to make them work, but having something like that to busy herself turned out to be really rewarding.

Quackity: He's a shapeshifter. He decided to change up his features a bit. Maybe he's getting ready for a fight he's certain will happen soon, who knows...

Karl Jacobs: Acquired them at some point during his travels. Much like George he's not sure how, when, or why that happened, but he's not complaining

HBomb: The power of anime bestowed them upon him. He did a full magical girl transformation and now they're there

Techno: Crafted them himself. They're not a marvel of engineering like they would be if Tubbo or Sam created them, but more so the result of months of him studying magic and alchemy for it. They were initially meant for Phil, but he screwed up the incantation.

Phil: They're prosthetics. He had to wait a long time for them because wing prosthetics are quite an expensive and complicated thing to obtain, but finally, he has them.

Ant: There's a whole lot of myths about cats with bird wings, so I'd say Ant finally ascended to his ultimate form of big ass cat with bog ass eagle wings.

Puffy: Went on an adventure after years of not sailing the sea and found an incredible treasure. She's pirating again and it's paying off, good for her honestly.

Foolish: Totems naturally have wings. He only stopped using them as a sign of respect for the rules of the server, but he's been shackled long enough now, wouldn't you say?

Hannah: Wings of thorny vines sprouted from her back as she started healing from the Egg's influence and reconnecting with nature.

Eryn: They just had them. They're probably an avian and we just didn't know yet.

Michael: Similarly to Eryn, he's just a winged hybrid.

Slimecicle: Well, once upon a time a little slime evolved in the course of thousands of years to become a human... what do you mean humans don't have wings? Oh well... he likes them now... maybe we can make an exception for him?

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

(/rp! also, huge trigger warning for assault, graphic violence, death, abuse, possessive behaviour, obsession, mental breaks, hallucination, really fucking creepy treatment of a corpse, unreliable narrators, the perspective of a villain, torture, manipulation, and gaslighting! this gets pretty fucked up).

When Dream sees Tommy for the first time, there is no dramatic shift, no acknowledgement that his life had changed forever. No knowledge of the fact. All he sees is a skinny little kid who's obnoxious and loud, and he catalogues him just as one of Philza’s strays and leaves it at that.

No, it’s when Tommy drives the sword into his chest for the first time, and Dream wakes up from his non-canon death smiling despite itself when it clicks. He’s not sure what “it” is, exactly, but it’s just something about him Dream hadn’t seen in anyone before that has him hooked, captivated from the beginning.

(There's the vague recollection that he was like Tommy once, a bright eyed naive youth too loud for his own good, but that’s not unique. It’s not that, at least not entirely.)

The conflict was not started by Tommy, nor was he of any particular threat to Dream, but he was fun. So he ignored the rest, and took the boy's music discs. He knew Tommy well enough that he’d fight for them, and fight he did, and even though Dream lost in the end he laughed all the while. He’d played many a game before, but none quite this fun!

They both know this isn’t where it’ll end. Only one hopes it will be.

——

Dream didn’t care much about Wilbur's little revolutionary movement at first. As long as he obeyed the rules, and stayed in the server, it wouldn’t matter whether he delusionally thought he was under his own governance or not.

This changed immediately when he learnt Tommy was involved.

L'Manburg, a name he didn’t bother to remember until he learnt Tommy named it, was tiny, barely any more than a scavenged old world vehicle and some trees. It’s populace was peaceful, only Wilbur even an adult. None of that mattered. It wasn’t that the nation was a threat, though he certainly wouldn’t dissuade his friends fear that it was. But fighting L'Manburg meant fighting Tommy, and Dream wouldn't pass up the opportunity for anything.

He grinned with glee behind his mask as he blew Tommy's strange dirt hovel “embassy” sky high, enthusiastically threatened Tommy before remembering half heartedly to threaten the rest of the nation. He made dealings, found weak links- a new immigrant to the SMP that joined L'Manburg after the war began, it turns out. He offered extravagant promises in exchange for their betrayal, hiding the strings attached to his fingers.

Oh, but it was all worth it when the person with the eyes of an old god lead the revolutionaries into a trap, all worth it when they descended on them at once. It was definitely worth it to kill Tommy, kill Tommy, see him scream and cry in pain and stumble trying to escape and him taking a shuddering last breath. Dream had never seen anything as beautiful.

(It was a war, and feelings like this were okay in wars, right? It’s not like he was obsessed, it’s not like he was a monster. He’d been trying to be good, and killing your enemies was good, right?)

He killed Tommy a second time, too. The boy with shaking hands and a leg hanging limp challenged him to a duel for his nations future. His loss was assured, and Dream knew Tommy knew that also. This one was quicker, Tommy dead between the arrow entering his skull and his broken body make a loud thud against the planks, but it was no less fascinating. If only he had infinite canon lives, Dream would happily give up any ambitions and spend eternity seeing the boy die in so many fascinating ways.

(No, what the fuck was he thinking? The SMP was worth more than some stupid kid, and Dream wasn’t so inept with morality to know torturing someone over and over, killing them, was wrong.)

(Yet, it was so tempting he was almost ready to renounce morality wholeheartedly.)

It eventually comes to the discs again, Tommy handing Dream his prized possessions for some silly little nation. Dream knew Tommy would do anything to get them back. Having so much control was addicting, even more than control of anything else. Dream had learnt long ago that if you didn’t have complete power over anything, people would take the power from you and make you hurt.

So why did he care more about control of some kid than avoiding his own pain?

——

Dream would have sided with Tommy. Really, he would have, but Schlatt just had the better deal.

He holds the book in his hands, power filling him. He repeats the incantation, sacrifices the blood from his veins. He stares into the face of a man near-identical.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, voice level. “”What do you wish of me?””

Dream grins behind his mask. “”Tommy.””

—

Wishes must come true, Dream thinks, as he sits on the beach of Logstedshire, Tommy passed out and leaning against his arm.

Oh, what he’d give for this moment to last forever. Alas, it passes, like they all do. Still, Tommy's getting so obedient lately- barely even grumbling as he threw his item into the hole. Part of him missed when Tommy would fight back all the while- his pained screams were entertaining. Still, it was safer this way, and more enjoyable in the long run. He’d hate to have his little songbird break it’s neck against the cage doors, never to sing again.

He’s not sure when life outside of Tommy became a chore, but he remembers dimly that it wasn’t always like that. There was a Dream long ago that wouldn’t give up friends and family, who'd cry over losing them even if he’d cut their threads voluntarily. He wasn’t that Dream anymore, the numb feeling in his chest a sign of growth. It didn’t matter that everything outside of Tommy was so miserable, because just being around the boy was a feeling a hundredfold better than any happiness he felt before.

Still, he had duties and responsibilities. Ones that seemed so important long ago, so fulfilling. Maybe one day they’d feel like that again. He had plans, from what he learnt. Government had not left him satisfied, but- whatever you could call what his relationship with Tommy was, it definitely did. Family, he supposed, recognising the boys actions towards him and his brothers. If he could make the entire server like that, that’d be a happiness greater than any other, apart from how Tommy made him feel.

He spent time with Tubbo, getting further and further towards getting that stupid fucking ram boy to calling him a friend and giving him Tommy's disc, all he wanted from him.

(He wasn’t jealous, of course he wasn’t. The anger he felt whenever Tommy called Tubbo a friend, that wasn’t jealousy. That was just logical).

Far more interesting was checking on the prison's completion. When it’s completed, it’d truly be a thing of beauty. Of course, his favourite part was the main cell, that he’d put so much thought into. He’d included all the little things that made Tommy squirm, made his breath hitch and eyes dart around fearfully. That would be so much fun.

(Tommy would learn to appreciate the fun in time, too. He was a smart boy, if irritatingly yet fascinatingly stubborn. He just needed to be taught that if he listened and just played along, Dream could give him the world.)

It took far too long, but eventually it finished, and he could return to the ugly mess of tents and logs he’d made so sure Tommy could never leave. He always started shaking when Dream showed up, trying desperately to hide his fear in his voice, and it was absolutely adorable. Dream savoured it, savoured everything about Tommy as they spent hours talking. Everything, his hysterical laugh, his nervous glances for escapes, the way he flinched whenever Dream grabbed his shoulder, his wrist, the poorly hidden look of pain when he held tighter, just hard enough to irritate the bruises that painted his skin a canvas of black and blue, it was all perfect.

Only he could love Tommy this much, and in time he knew Tommy would learn to appreciate that.

——

The second time he used the book, a tower extended from the ruins of the makeshift prison he’d made for Tommy. DreamXD stated ahead of him.

“”Brother dearest,” he said, “why are you calling on me again so soon?””

“”Bring him back,”” he said, voice painfully numb.

DreamXD shrugged a shoulder, golden hair waving around like in water. “”Who?””

“”Tommy.””

“”I cannot,”” DreamXD said. “”He lives.”” Dream couldn’t help but smile at hearing that.

“”Then bring him back to me.””

DreamXD laughed, a sound like church bells. “”That would be unnecessary. Did I not already grant you the mortal?””

Dream clenched his fist hard enough blood dripped onto scorched earth. “”He left me-“”

“”And you shall find him, no matter what.”” DreamXD smiled under the mask. “”You are bonded to him, and neither death nor distance shall break that. Just look, and you will find him, til the end of time and even past.””

“”Thank you,”” Dream said, genuinely for once.

“”Only the best for my little brother and sister. And I know you would do the same for us, brother dearest.””

——

His planning had come to fruition for once.

They were alone, in the depths of the Earth, just him, Tommy, the fucking hilarious excuse for a “president” Tommy called a friend for some reason, and his axe.

Finally, he could bring his dreams to fruition. He could get rid of any loose threads, and claim what was rightfully his. And once he’d taught Tommy to be grateful, he could get to work on the rest of the server.

It’d be beautiful. Everyone would be his friend, his brother, his sister, something in between. There would be no more wars, just peace. Everyone would be safe, he’d know they’re safe and they’d never rip him to pieces and laugh at his pain. And oh, it’d like be hard work, breaking everyone into obedience but not too much to the point they become boring, but so enjoyable and satisfying. He’d almost be disappointed when it was over.

Tommy- his Tommy, his Tommy, was crying, and it was amusing but he almost wanted to reach out and comfort him and explain it’d all be for the best. He’d do that later, once he’d secured him and any loose ends were gone forever. He couldn’t afford weakness until they were alone, but Tommy made it so tempting.

The ram and Tommy hugged a final goodbye, and the adoration he had towards Tommy, hiding his fear behind a smile, made Dream fucking sick. He should know Tommy was his. They all should know. He’d teach them, when he made the server a perfect family. Even Tubbo, if Tommy begged enough. Dream would do anything to hear Tommy's pathetic, gorgeous begging, breaking through his aggressive walls, and bringing back some random sheep was easily in his brother's power.

See, he could be kind. He wasn’t cruel, he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t even care if he was anymore, fun was so much more important than nonsensical human concepts, but it wasn’t even true. He could be incredibly, selflessly kind, as long as he had a reason. They’d learn, once he fulfilled his dream.

The sound of a nether portal, of betrayal, shatters his dreams and at this point he wonders why he’s surprised.

——

He’d had doubts, during the weeks (months, years? he had no way of knowing) he’d been trapped in the cell, but Tommy being here with him confirmed his design was excellent.

Oh, Tommy was being fucking obnoxious- and Dream knew he was doing it on purpose- but he saw it in the way he never was able to look at the lava properly, the way he always woke up in a cold sweat calling for his daddy like the child he insisted he wasn’t. It was perfect.

(Of course it was, though. It’s not hard to build on something already perfected, and Tommy was the perfect little toy.)

Tommy was so frustratingly different though. He tried not to take it out on him- it wasn’t his fault that everyone else spread lies, planted nonsense in his head about Dream being bad and not trying to do the best for everyone but especially for him- but he struggled sometimes, and it was always so tempting to hurt Tommy anyway, and get lost in the melody of his screams. It wouldn’t teach Tommy anything though, and that’s what was important. He needed to teach Tommy what was best for him.

Tommy had unlearnt all the lessons Dream painstakingly taught him. That wouldn’t be an issue- it was so, so fun to teach- but he knew, painfully deep down in his heart that he could not hold Tommy forever, not yet. The lockdown wasn’t forever, and Dream had no escape route yet. Tommy would just forget everything again, at the hands of his “friends” that couldn’t love him as much as Dream did. They needed to learn far more than Tommy did.

(Except Ranboo of course- oh, the purple eyed boy had the silly naive thoughts in his head everyone seemed to have that friendship was anything but possessing another, but he agreed family came first, listened to Dream, helped him, even with clenched teeth.)

And when one day the frustration got to Dream one day and he was so furious he hit Tommy again and again against the walls of the prison and strangled him until he was cold all he could do was laugh and laugh and laugh.

It was so, so funny, because of course he’d be the one to destroy everything he loved.

——

This time, when DreamXD is called, he looks upon his brother with concern.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, “”are you quite alright?””

Dream laughs, because of course he’s alright! The tears staining his face must be joy, because of course he’s alright. He’s holding Tommy here, with him, and he was quiet, he must be listening. He can’t be dead, he can’t be, then there’d be no point to any of this.

“”Drista has been concerned for you for quite a while, you know,”” DreamXD continued. “”Is this because of your mortal?””

“”He’s been ever so quiet lately,”” Dream said, with a voice hoarse from crying and laughter. “”I’m not sure to be concerned or happy with him.””

“”You’re not well, Dream.”” DreamXD said, with a tone of finality despite clearly being wrong. “”The boy is dead.””

Dream laughs. “”And yet he does not slip from my grasp.””

“”Then, brother, why did you call me?””

The silence pierces through air like a knife. Eventually, through hiccuping sobs, Dream says “”Just, please, bring him back.””

Tommy sputters to life with ghostly eye and pure white streaks and more bruise on him than corpselike skin and Dream thinks he has never been more perfect.

——

Quackity's left, he thinks, because the pain's stopped growing.

He laughs, because he doesn’t know what to fucking do anymore but laugh. He can’t give up the secrets of the book, of course he can’t. Family comes first, after all, and he dreads to think what the bastard would do to his brother. But the pain was awful, never ending in waves through his whole body, and he almost just wants to confess so he can die.

He cradles what’s left of his arm since the bastard cut it off at the elbow, and he sobs. He doesn’t even care to hide it with his mask. It’s not even the pain that hurts the most, even. It’s that Tommy's gone, and by the time Dream escapes- because he’s going to escape, he’s got to- he might be so far from his grasp even their fates being tied might not be enough.

“Of course that’s not true,” a fake voice says in his head, and wavy form approaches. Fuck, the blood loss must be bad today. It always is when he sees things. Usually it’s George or Bad or Sapnap, and it leaves him with a numb feeling in his chest that he’s familiar with, but today it’s Tommy, and that’s worse. It reminds him of what he cannot hold.

“Fuck off,” he mouths at the apparition, voice too tired and hoarse from screaming to speak properly. Not-Tommy laughs, and the sound is so similar to Tommy he almost thinks that his desperate prayers have been answered, Tommy is there again, but he reached his fingers forward and they go through his tired hallucination.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Not-Tommy says, and laughs again. “But I know you mean the best.” Dream shrugs his shoulder at the fake, and then curls up, new waves of pain curling up his arm.

“I don’t know why I was ever friends with that bastard.” Not-Tommy lies, and Dream wants to believe it. “You’re just having fun. He’s cruel.” Tommy would never understand that clear distinction, no matter how much Dream explained it, but the fake said it with such conviction it was almost enough for Dream to fall for it.

“When you get out, I’ll be there, Dream. And then we can all be a big happy family,” Not-Tommy says, the thoughts so obviously Dream's and not Tommy’s but- the idea that Tommy understood, that he saw sense, was so tempting, Dream allowed himself to believe it, just for a second. Just until the pain started anew.

Broken and bloody, Dream drifted into unconsciousness with a smile on his face.

[enby-enderdragon]

Dude please tell me abt ur mc worldbuilding

Mx Elliott Whycraft, my beloved, I would give you the biggest hug right now if I could

Okie, okie, so its mostly just a pantheon of gods that I’ve made, but I do also have some ideas for, like, holidays and things that would happen on those holidays and things that certain followers of certain deities would do, but I digress. I’ll just tell you about the deities I chose mostly since I don’t wanna be too rambly. I can save the other details for other asks if people really wanna know about that. This is gonna go under a cut bc this might end up being a long post. Like I said, unfortunately for you guys, I’m very autistic and religion worldbuilding is a special interest of mine.

Uhhhhh, warning, possibly some bits that could be considered Slimecicle Cinematic Universe spoilers if you haven’t seen “The HARDEST Minecraft Difficulty” yet??

So, the first deity I chose, of course, is DreamXD, shortened down to XD. He’s the big king of the gods and he has the epithet of “the Prime” since he’s one of the bigger and more worshipped deities in the pantheon. Things like Church Prime in the DreamSMP and Techno’s channel member bell fall under his domain. XD is specifically the god of order and life so, as mortals began to worship the pantheon, it felt natural for XD to rise to the position of God King. XD is also the protector of the Dragon’s Realm. It’s his job to make sure that, if the Enderdragon ever has to die, that she is only killed A) she absolutely has to be because he’s very attached to his Dragons and B) he always makes the the Dragon has a successor.

The second deity I chose was Drista. No one is really sure how old Drista is, not even the other gods, because she’s the goddess of chaos, so she’s XD’s counterpart and has to have been around since the first chaotic thing happened in the mortal plane, but she appears very young compared to the other gods and she’s referred to in the mortal scriptures with the epithet of “the Young”. Drista falls under with the duty of being the protector of childhood and children in general, which only adds to her epithet. Aside from all that, she’s also the guide for souls of the dead into the Afterlife.

The third deity I chose was Grizzly. Now, a lot of mortal scripture about Grizzly was lost because his stories used to be burned when people would try to write them. A lot of people passed his stories around orally, but still, a lot of the scriptures were lost and mortals can’t truly now a lot about what happened with him. The biggest things that survived history of his stories is that he is the god of the forge and of mischief, but one day, he had a falling out with the other gods and they cast him out of the Pantheon Proper, which earned him the epithet of “the Fallen”. Nowadays, stories say that Grizzly is the King of the Damned, but no mortals know for sure exactly what that means.

The fourth deity is Condi. Condi is one of the oldest gods in the pantheon, even older than XD by millennium. Condi is the god of magick, so he was the deity that separated the Three Realms from each other. There’s rumors of a secret fourth realm that Condi uses as an escape from the other gods, but again, those are just rumors. No one has ever been able to craft a proper portal to this secret realm, but still, the realm of the Aether is mentioned too many times in scriptures for it to be a coincidence, right? Anyway, Condi also the Weaver of Fate, so, as you can imagine, he’s a very busy god. He has the epithet of “the Wise” because, if you’re gonna have this much shit going on as a god, you’ve gotta be wise.

The fifth deity is Bizly. Bizly, even by the other gods, is considered weak and useless, as he’s the god of animals and monsters. Most of the other gods will ignore him and couple of the other gods can be outright mean to him for no reason. This earned him the epithet of “the Dismissed”. Because of the way that the other gods treat him, Bizly took it upon himself to be the protector of the weak and underdogs. To mortals, he also become equivalent with the start of spring, so a lot of mortal stories call him the “bringer of new starts”.

The sixth deity is Foolish, of fucking course. He’s the god of storms and the seas and, even though his domains are usually very rough things to mortals, he himself is a very chill god (these days) and he doesn’t really interact with the other gods unless he ABSOLUTELY has to. He tends to spend most of his time as the protector of Mizu, a legendary city that is said to live under the deepest parts of the mortal oceans that houses only the most holy artifacts and important scriptures of the gods. There’s a specific rune that was created that is said to be a sigil of Foolish and it’s supposed to bring great wealth to a person if they draw it on themself. Foolish has the epithet of “the Undying” because I’m uncreative cgvhjbkgv

The seventh deity is Kristin, the goddess of death, because I have to. Again, she’s a goddess that doesn’t really like interacting with the other deities if she doesn’t have to. She tends to spend most of her time tending to the souls of the Afterlife, making sure everyone is happy and cared for and with their loved ones if they can be. The only deity that she has constant contact with is Drista, since the younger goddess helps her collect the souls of the dead. Kristin is known to take pity on a few souls that have no one every now and then and she’ll make them into angels and let them roam the mortal worlds again until they die and then they’re dead for real with no take-backs.

The eighth deity is Irene. She’s a very flighty goddess, not known to stick around in one place for long. As the protector of the Mortal Realm, she does her best to make sure that every mortal has a happy and healthy life on the earth. She’s typically the goddess of medicine and family in most portrayals of her scriptures, but there are a few places that will cast her as a more “dark” (using that word lightly because I can’t think of a better one) goddess of apathy and discord. Those mythos as that “darker” goddess are very rare, however. She has the epithet of “the Matron” and she’s the only recorded goddess to be referred to with the title of “Lady”. The other goddesses don’t seem to like that title.

The ninth deity is Herobrine. He’s the god of both the sun and the moon, so a lot of mortal legends say that the sun and moon are his glowing eyes and he’s watching over the mortals and he’ll punish any greedy or malevolent mortals. Because of that line of mythos, Herobrine earned the epithet of “the Watcher”. He’s known for collecting wayward souls that are stuck between Grizzly’s Damned Kingdom and Kristin’s Afterlife and he’ll make a wayward soul into an assistant of sorts to help him watch over the realm and punish mortals. Sometimes, his Watchers can get a little overzealous and will take in souls that aren’t ready yet, but Herobrine never forces a soul to stay if they don’t want to and lets them go back to the mortal realm.

The tenth and final deity is False. Yes, Miss False “Supremacy” Symmetry herself is a goddess. Specifically, she’s the goddess of war and blood. She, again, is a goddess that doesn’t much like the other gods and stays away from them as much as she can. In scripture, she’s never referred to by name because legends say that, if you speak her proper name, she’ll appear and kill your entire land or family or whatever. Most texts and stories refer to her either as “the Blood God” or by her epithet of “Animus”. She’s considered the herald of the winter months and she’s also the protector of the Nether Realm.

[thatoneao3writer]

DONE

FUCKING FINALLY

Longest part pog

Also took me the longest to write

So pls enjoy

----------

Finally, they were ready.

DreamXD was letting them beat the Ender Dragon, letting them go to the End. This was Wilburs chance.

He remembers a time when many of his friends, as well as Ghostbur, had fallen through a portal that had shown up randomly in the night. They had gone through, and met their counterparts from another universe. They were superheroes, vigilantes, villains, anti-heroes. And from what he knows from Ghostburs memories of the place, their world hadn’t been much better than his own. He was still dead, with a naive, stupidly friendly shell of a ghost in his place. Philza had still killed him, Fundy still hated him. Nothing was super different.

All of that was about to change.

The plan was simple.

Kill everyone, and take enough magic to change the portal once the dragon was dead. Once the portal was able to take him where he wanted to go, he would do what he intended. Show everyone exactly what he was capable of.

And just like that, the deed was done. Everyone had gone easily, many already on their last life. The dagger Wilbur had used would forever be coated in blood.

In a way it had almost been satisfying, feeling the cleanness of the dagger sliding between Tommy’s shoulder blades, watching his body fall to the ground, limp. He had been the first to go. A show of power, killing someone he had once viewed as a little brother; a friend. Karl and Quackity and Sapnap had been next, their dying moments spent holding each other and exchanging vows of love. It was sickening. One by one, people dropped like flies, crimson blood staining the stone ground of the End. The feeling was revitalising for the madman, the feeling of warm blood sliding down his hands as Wilbur watched his former friends and enemies die at his own hand. The lover boys were next. Wilbur kills Skeppy first, reveling in the pure pain as Bad is forced to watch the blood drain until only the corpse was left, screaming in pain and sadness up until the final moment when the blade pierced his throat, effectively silencing his anguish. Then Ponk, Foolish, and finally Sam, letting each sit in their misery for a moment before they too, were gone.

Jack Manifold

Nihachu

Puffy

Purpled

Hannah

Eret

Techno

Dream

George

Tubbo

Ranboo

Connor

Purpled

Punz

Michaelmcchill

HBomb

Slimesicle

Alyssa

Antfrost

Callahan

All dead.

On and on and on until every single one is gone for good. Six feet under. Never to see the light of day again.

And of course, Wilbur saved his family for last. Fundy let it come, tired of fighting for a world that didn’t believe in him, friends who side-eyed him, never fully trusting. Always manipulated, always torn down and built back up for someone else. Always the lover, never the loved. Haunted by the curse of his family. Fundy knelt with dignity, only letting a small but sharp gasp escape as the weapon plunged into his neck, smiling as he was released from the burden that had been his life.

And Phil. Dear old Phil.

Let’s just say that Wilbur had enjoyed seeing the life slip from his fathers eyes, a sword running through his chest, just like how Wilbur had died to Phil’s own hand in the past. He enjoyed watching him cough up the blood in his final moments, regret written all over his face. His final kill before he moved on, he wanted to see the raw pain and betrayal. So, he used a sword. Phil’s sword. The one that in the past had fit so well between Wilburs own ribs as he muttered his final words into existence, his father crying above him. The parallels were so very enjoyable. But this time, there would be no coming back. Because there would be no one left to bring anyone back. That was the simple truth of it.

At long last, everyone was dead. It really was a beautiful sight to Wilbur, dead bodies everywhere. But, even better than the sight was the sound.

The sound of silence.

Pure, perfect silence.

The final thing to be cut was the silence, for the psychotic laughter of a cold-blooded killer is sharper than a sword drawn from a gaping wound healed by none.

And that was that. Wilbur had everything he needed. He had spent hours watching Karl and waiting until he disappeared so that he could sneak into the library. Wilbur had done his homework, he knew how to do what he needed to do.

As far as Wilbur knew, there were 4 magical members of the SMP. Karl, Bad, Eret and Foolish. But just to be safe, he performed the ‘ceremony’, a glorified magical exorcism, on everyone he killed, claiming their magic as his own.

It was finally time. Wilbur approached the portal cautiously, focusing on what he wanted to do, summoning his stolen magic. In the span of 4 seconds, it was done. The portal was changed, now a spinning white void in the place of the usual star-dotted sky that dominated the view of the portal.

Wilbur turned around, smirking. He takes one more good look at the slaughtered people around him, and he raises a hand in final salute, mocking to the very end.

“It was never meant to be.”

----------

Tubbo bares his teeth, gripping the bars of the cell tightly.

“Stay the fuck away from them.” He growls, anger barely in check. Wilbur tsks, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter, knowing it would piss the teen off to no end.

“No can do, Tubso.” He smiles, taking a long drag from the cigarette. “Did you miss me?”

“You bastard, you prick, you- you arse!” Tubbo says, anger not only seeping into his tone as he shakes the bars of the cell, but crashing in waves of vitriol and poison. “Of course I didn’t fucking miss you! You motherfuck- you fucking killed people! And on top of that, you. Were. Fucking. DEAD!” Tubbo pants as he slowly starts to run out of steam, seeing Ranboo out of the corner of his eye, attempting to reach through the bars of their own cell and around the partition to comfort a crying Michael.

This, of course, alerts Wilbur. He spins around, watching as the two freeze in abject terror. Ranboo draws his hand back, causing Michael to cry once more, moving to hide in the corner of his cell. Wilbur stares down at the teen, lifting one hand to tap an earpiece.

“Schlatt, send the escorts in. I need to chat with Tubbo here, alone.” Ranboo and Tubbo freeze, fearing for their lives. There's not much they can do before 10 armed guards have paraded into the room, brandishing glinting firearms and long daggers at their hips. Wilbur opens Michaels cell first, raising cries of protest from the other two as three guards take him away, shortly followed by a screaming Ranboo, accompanied by Tubbo yelling incoherently in protest and lost hope.

All of a sudden it's silent, Tubbos yelling cut off abruptly by a hand at his throat.

“No more of that now, Tubbo. It’s giving me a headache.” And he releases the teens neck, but not before yanking sharply, slamming Tubbos face into the metal with a sharp crack of pain. “Now, we have some things to talk about. Namely, your useful skills.” Wilbur sticks the cigarette between his teeth, talking around it as he digs in his pockets. “You see, Tubbo, I, had a plan.” He takes a small bow, accentuating his cockiness. “This plan included Fundy. But then, oh dear,” He lifts one hand to his cheek, mocking surprise and horror. “My boyfriend is dead! Oh no, whatever shall I do?” Wilbur's voice is high and mocking as he prances around, contempt just dripping off of every word. “Maybe I’ll just be a fucking coward and run away from all of my problems.” Wilbur takes another drag, holding it for a beat before exhaling in Tubbos face, causing the boy to cough with chagrin. He laughs, the smoke permeating every corner of the cell block, slowly but surely.

There's blood coming out of a large gash on Tubbos forehead, spilling down his face. Soon he won’t be able to see, but he’s too scared of angering the man in front of him to try something that could potentially get him in trouble. Wilbur smiles at this, seeing that he has power over Tubbo, exactly what he wanted. And as his comms buzz three times, he realises he has everyone exactly where he wants them as well. He smiles, and taps the comms once to communicate to the person on the other end, asking them to show his ace in the hole. The monitor screens around the room flickered to life, showing two different rooms. The first shows a cage, a small shadow curled up in the corner.

‘Michael.’ Tubbo thinks, eyes widening. He opens his mouth to yell at the man in front of him, regardless of the consequences, but he doesn’t even get far enough to make a single sound before Wilbur raises a hand, cutting him off before he can start.

“Hold up there kid,” he chuckles, gesturing back to the screens around the room, “Why don’t you check the other room before you tell me off, yeah? I promise, it’ll be ten times more fun.” Tubbo pauses, taking the statement into consideration. If Wilbur was asking him to wait on yelling at him, it was sure to be worse. And-

‘Oh fuck,’ Tubbo realised, eyes widening as he whipped his head back up to look at the screens. ‘Ranboo.’ And of course, there was one of his best friends, in a plain room. It didn’t look too bad, but, knowing the man orchestrating this, there was something in that room designed to hurt the teen. Tubbo is at a loss for words, mouth hanging open as he watches, looking on as two of the most important people in the world to him become aware of their own situations. Tubbo watches the fear crossing their faces, watches Ranboo look up at something he can’t see, watches them start hyperventilating.

‘I want to help. I want to help them so fucking bad.’

“What do you want, Wilbur.” is what Tubbo settles on, voice quiet, broken and defeated. He bites his lip, keeping his anger in check, saving energy. He’d probably need it to break Wilburs neck later on, when he got his family out of this. Wilbur scoffed, mocking offence.

“My dear child, it wounds me to hear that you think that little of me.” Another drag from the cigarette as it slowly burns down to a stub, perched in a hand twitching to harm. “Now, I need you to understand something, Tubbo. I am in no way here to be your friend. Far from it, actually. Now, I’m sure you’re aware of the whole Fundy and 5up thing, yes?” Tubbo bares his teeth in response, anger clear. “Good. Now, because you will not be leaving here any time soon, I believe I can reveal my past plan to you. I used 5up as bait, knowing that Fundy would either decide to break his little boyfriend out, or he would come quietly and pay the ransom. Evidently, he chose to break him out.” Wilbur shook his head, chuckling idly. “A shame really. You want to know something, Tubbo?” Wilbur looked at the teen as he contemplated.

‘This is taking too long. Speed it up. You have more important stuff to do.’ Wilbur thinks. The solution, he concludes, is to force Tubbo to give an affirmative answer. He glances down at the cigarette still in hand, a wide smile on his face. He reaches down to where Tubbos hand is wrapped around one of the cell bars and presses the lit end to the pale and fragile skin of his hand. There was a faint sizzling sound, before the large concrete room reverberated with the sound of screaming. Tubbos head shot down and back up, looking to his hand and then back to the psychopath that had caused the already reddening burn on his hand.

In other words, a nod.

“Yeah? Good. Y’know, I meant what I said, it really was a shame. Even more so as 5up would have lived if Fundy had paid the ransom. Alas, the wrong decision was made.” Tubbo sneered up at him, cradling his burnt hand against his chest.

“Get to the point, bitch.” He said, keeping it simple as he hissed in pain, teeth clenched together.

“I needed Fundy to make explosives. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” Wilbur says, getting close to the bars separating the two. He reaches through, taking a fistful of the boy's shirt in his hand, yanking him forward to whisper in his ear before making a grand exit, leaving a shaking and scared Tubbo in his wake.

“Don’t bother crossing me. I will hurt them in unimaginable ways, and you will be forced to watch. Don’t. Fuck. With. Me.”

----------

“Velvet! VELVET!” Ant yelled as he followed his tearful boyfriend into one of the communal bathrooms of the Titans Tower. He pushed open the doors leading to the mens bathroom, immediately spotting his boyfriend leaning against the sinks, taking deep, shuddering breaths as tears rolled freely down his cheeks. For just one moment, it looked as if Velvet was calming down some, but after a few quiet shuddering breaths, the tears were back. He leaned down, burying his face in his arms, shoulders shuddering from the force of the tears still forming in his eyes. Ant moved quickly, sitting next to Velvet on the sinks. Not wanting to scare him, Ant rests a hand lightly on his boyfriend's forearm, alerting him to the others' presence.

“Hey.” He whispers lightly, “Velvet, I- uhm… do you… want a hug?” Velvet pauses for just a moment, looking up at his boyfriend in the mirror. He looks tired, and sad, but he nods, falling into Ants embrace. “Can- can you tell me what’s wrong?” Velvet nods once more, pushing himself up to sit next to Ant.

“I’m really fucking scared, Ant.” His voice is raspy from crying, and quiet. Ant doesn’t interrupt, letting him talk. “With everything going on right now, I’m scared to care. Fundy loved 5up, and now he’s gone, a- and Fundy won’t leave the guest room of the Tower and- and-” Velvet breaks down in another round of tears as Antfrost gently shushes him, trying to calm him down.

“Take your time, babe.” He admonishes gently.

“I- I- fuck, Ant. I- I can’t lose you again.” They hug tightly, Ant gently petting his boyfriend's hair. He pulls away just enough to look at Velvet and opens his mouth to give gentle reassurances. He is very rudely interrupted by Puffy rushing in, crying buckets of tears.

“Tubbo and Ranboo are missing. Michael as well.” She manages to rasp out, before she bolts, the two lovebirds following a moment after.

Never going to have just a moment to yourselves, are you?

----------

Back up the stairs, up and up and up and up. Wilbur takes his time, he is really in no rush to get this done. It’s inevitable, and nothing will be able to stop it. No one can get here fast enough, not the imbecilic Titans or the bottomfeeder friends, the HIVE. Not even The Syndicate will be able to do anything about the impending doom from the rooftop of a tall building, right in the middle of Essempei. Making it to the top, he slams open the roof access door with grandeur, taking in the view of the setting sun, and the backlit statues or the condemned. He smiles, inhaling a deep breath before taking his rightful place in the middle of the circle, preparing.

“I know you can hear me.” He starts, testing the heavy weight in his hand, passing it back and forth. “I read up on the magic I needed for this. You may be stuck, but I know you can hear me.” He closes his eyes, using just enough magic to feel the presence of their souls in the stone. Opening his eyes, Wilbur takes a good look at some of the statues, specifically the ones he recognised. He sees Callie, recalling Ghostbur having some of her brownies when he had visited this universe in the past. Near Callie, Hayden floated, wrist held fast by a ghost that Wilbur didn’t recognise. Hockey and Nug were on either side of an imposing ghost, the two assistants to the leader.

‘Timb’ Wilbur thinks, facing the statue. They don’t look all that scary, very simplistic and clean. But there is something powerful and overbearing about her presence, as if they give off an aura of dignity and control.

“Since you can hear me, I am absolutely going to take some time to gloat, because I beat you. All of you. You are mere toys in my merciless hands, something to be toyed with and then promptly forgotten. Even better, your home finally gets destroyed!” he starts pacing, letting his rambling thoughts take over for just a minute. “You all really impressed me with freezing your timeline. I’ve gotta say, I was not expecting that. Threw off all of my plans. But… when you all die in just a few minutes… boom. No more bowling alley for you. How sad.” He makes a quick lap, looking into the face of every statue possible. “Now… who should we start with?” He makes a decision quickly, choosing at random. He struts up to a tall, vaguely moth-like statue, lifting the sword to rest on the statue's chest right above where the heart would be. He smirks.

“Bye.” He says, contempt dripping like honey off of his tongue, as he drives the sword home. The change is immediate, the shift in power heavy in the air around the circle. What Wilbur does not expect is for the statue to change back completely, the dead body dripping warm blood from the chest. Wilbur moves on, choosing to continue to pick at random. He crosses to the opposite side of the circle, approaching Hockey. Again he lifts the sword, this time going straight for the neck. Again, a dead body in place of the stone statue, crimson blood pooling on the floor.

And Wilbur moves, continuing on the harrowing journey, loving the feeling of the power of what once was a circle weakening with each stricken blow. Choosing at random, stabbing at random, watching the bodies fall and the blood pool and start to congeal, the speed at which is heightened by the magic of the killing weapon. Soon there are only a few left standing. Three left standing. First, Wilbur approaches the tall, imposing girl standing off to the side, holding a staff between her hands. Wilbur plants his feet square in front of the girl, raising his sword high above his head, before swinging down in a sharp arc on her forehead. He moves on quickly, coming to stand before Timb. He contemplates for just one moment, before levelling the sword one more time, and stabbing right through their stomach. He pulls the sword out as Timb starts to become corporeal once again. But, this time is different from all the others, as Timb is not yet dead. Instead of a dead body, she falls, clutching their stomach as Wilbur approaches the final statue, moving it behind a small shack on the corner of the roof, before coming back to stand before the dying god, blood dripping off of the sword hung loosely at his side.

“Welcome to the world, Timb.”

Dead again, bitches.

----------

Finally, I am finished with this part, and it is 3299 words, excluding the author's notes and shit. I also seem to have, for the most part gotten over my writer's block/depression so that is pog. It is 2:45 in the fucking morning and i am in a vc with nike and nug

I really need sleep

Gn

dont kill me pls

Nahhh I won't kill because THIS IS FRICKEN POGGERS HAYDEN :D I love this, your writing style is amazing <3 even if it's literally angst from start to finish /lh

But yeah that's about 30+ people dead now XD

- 🏒

Fuck you too Wilbur >:( How rude of you smh

-🌱 (lmaooo)

[lcgtopia]

/dsmp /roleplay

Okay but hear me out. What if the final boss of the DreamSMP was DreamXD?? We see everyone logging in for the very last time, geared up in full netherite and ready for the fight of their lives. They all gather up and, for the first time, they join forces together. There are no such things as sides anymore, there are no more traitors left for this fight since everyone is up against the same enemy. The most powerful entity to ever exist in the SMP.

One by one they enter The End portal as they come across the final boss of the SMP, standing in the middle of the land while floating in the air and holding menacingly with one hand "The Protector's Axe" above his shoulder. The end crystals are what fuel his power and heal him up. This was not gonna be an easy fight and everyone knew that. This was the finale after all. They are all standing in a straight line facing directly at the Protector of The End. They would either die fighting for their freedom or declare victorious against the Protector and go through the portal that leads back home.

And with that, the end credits roll, the DreamSMP comes finally to an end, either that is a good or a bad end, we are yet to be sure. And thus a big chapter of our lives, as viewers, has also come to and End.

[arealdisappointment]

There was nothing in this world to say that i would meet the people I would need to meet. There was nothing to say that i would find the people I would care about more than anything else this world had to offer me. And yet I did, I did because i found you. I found you and you showed me how to fall in love with being alive again, you showed me what love was- what it meant to be loved and how to love someone else. You showed me how wonderful the world could be despite the bad things in it. No matter the circumstances you'd find a way to put a smile on my face; even in the rain I could see the sun breaking through the clouds. You are my everything. But you're gone now, I loved you with everything I had and everything I was and now you are gone.

  The world is a cruel place because it separated me from you, you were my everything and despite all of the power I have I can not bring you back, but I will forever love you my dear because 'Eri la luce nella mia vita, un simbolo di bene e di speranza, non ti dimenticherò mai mio tesoro.'

"Are you ready to go home now?"

Yes, I am.

"I don't understand why you submerse yourself in these worlds, you have seen many lifetimes and yet you still don't learn. Even in your reminiscent fantasies you end up alone, every single time. Why bring yourself the heartache time and time again?"

Why not? I wished to experience this world one more time. I cherished it's people and all of it's creations, the good and the bad.

"I will never understand you. You have seen this world from it's beginning to it's demise. You have seen every outcome it has to offer. You have spoken to it's people time after time, and yet you hold it close to your heart and you experience the dreaded sorrow as you watch this world crumble once more. Why?"

As I've said, I loved this world and all it had to offer me. Whether that was the good or the bad, this will always be a home to me.

"They made you soft and weak, you are more mortal than god now."

I am not soft nor am I weak. I believe there is a great value in the emotions they express, having mortal connections and reactions does not make you weak, in fact I believe it makes you stronger. Their strength is enough to rival that of a god.

"How so?"

Unlike the gods they do not have the power to change things on a cosmic scale, they can not undo deaths or change the past, they only have what this world offers them and they make beautiful things out of it. And unlike the gods they have the strength to let it go in the end, but as gods we do not have to. We can stretch their time for as long as we wish, we can replay it like a tape and live through it once more if we so please. They do not have those luxuries, they know they can not hold on to their world forever, that one day they will be forced to let go and they have grown content with that fact in a way no god ever could.

"Mhmm I see, I still believe you to be foolish to have put yourself back into that world of all the worlds we've experienced but if that one makes you happy."

I think I am done reliving the same life over again. It is time to move on to the next chapter in this story with a new plotline and new characters to meet and become acquainted with, because like the mortals I have learned to let go.

*translation-Eri la luce nella mia vita, un simbolo di bene e di speranza, non ti dimenticherò mai mio tesoro- *You were the light in my life, a symbol of the good and of hope, I will never forget you my treasure*

Explination- a while back I read a fic where some of the smp members were immortal, they could technically be killed but they would always come back to life, this fic made me hate being mortal but it also made me realize that immortality wouldn't be as great as it's chalked up to be. Why? Because connections, you can not have connections if you last forever, in the end you will always lose whatever it was you cared about, people die and over time you will forget because memories fade and if they don't well it would be painful to think about what you could have had if you could die like everyone else. I thought about how watching the people you care about die time and time again would be painful. Putting yourself out there and learning to care for and be cared about only for the same inevitable outcome time after time. Then i connected all of this back to the smp. How? Well I'm not completely sure. When i pictured it in my head I imagined someone who could potentially survive for that long whether it be dream because he's part god or smth, or george because he could have sold his soul to DreamXD, or maybe it was Karl and he just so happened to outlive everyone he cared about due to the time jumping. I don't really care who you fill in the spot with, it could be an smp member or an oc for all i care. The beginning paragraph is what i visualized to be the minor deity type figure talking to the tomb stones of the people or person they cared for. The parts with the " " around them is what i imagined to be a 'stronger' deity a dreamxd type figure if you will. And when this dreamxd type figure shows up it is coming to take the minor deity back to what is truly their home. When they show up the minor deity looks around at the world one last time seeing it however you want to imagine this world to be left it can be on fire and in shambles or it can be calm and peaceful, either way they are saying goodbye after living through this world and it's events one final time after years amd years of keeping this world on a loop. They are saying goodbye and they are moving on to the next time and the next world where they will experience similar things to the last or maybe not who knows the world is full of tricks and surprises.

(The parts with no " " around it is just the minor deity talking back to the other god like figure, this may be obvious but just in case)

-gray