#if i were to do a fix of the dream smp overall you would not find me fixing the entire thing

[the-l00ker]

Guys I made a YouTube comment about six months ago talking about the absolute horrendous downfall of the dream SMP and how only a select few people came out as genuinely good people are not just hypocritical ahole

And some of those comments and replies were but what about badboyhalo?

And to that I say he may be a absolute gem of a guy currently, but let me tell you if I was a friend of yours and you look to me in the eyes and told me that you were joining kick.com, I would not encourage or defend your actions if you got car lacking on Twitter.

BBH defending Sapnap's decision because people are being rude is one thing, but then further defending his actions afterwards, DIABOLICAL

And when Sapnap moved he did not want his audience at all of the people that could be on that platform there were some young people walking in blind on that platform.

I do not want to go through the things that go on on that platform today but I want you to know that the cat in the blender live stream originally came from kick.com.

There were people from his community getting DMS from people who are way older than them asking to meet up.

And Sapnap's solution? "oh we're working on changing it"

Let me tell you if I was ever in the position of being his friend I would have told him straight up he messed up the minute he signed that contract.

I need an even sign out of good safe he signed it because they gave him like a million dollars.

It should not take a miracle in a half to realize that your friend is doing something that impacts you and that impacts them and that impacts there career and is an overall bad idea for everyone involved.

BBH was a bad guy in this situation because you should not be encouraging your friends to do something that's bad you can support the if they've already made that choice but encouraging them beforehand is a big no-no

Even Skeppy's and BBH's, was on the mend for a bit because skeppy he realized it was a bad idea after a whole and stopped defending it.

Tubbo realised it was a shitty idea. Smajor realised it was a bad idea. HECK EVEN TWITCH THE BIG ASS COMPANY THEMSELVES HAD PRIVATELY EMAILED HIM TO ASK IF HE WAS SURE.

I think it's absolutely lovely that you want to try and fix something that is already been shattered into a million pieces put through a meat grinder swallowed by Elon Musk then pooped out in the Sahara Desert eaten by a camel travelled five miles then pooped out again washed away by the River Nile and is now right next to the explosion site of ocean Gate, but oh my god did you have to make that.

You could have... Idk NOT streamed on that sight and helped from behind the scenes.

As a friend imma tell you if you messing up, and I don't want to be that kind of person but if your friends are encouraging you for a bad idea then they're not your friends they're not even good people.

If there was probably 1 to a billion worth of people telling you it was a good idea, and those 8 people were your friends would you still think it was a good idea of the rest of the world told you no?

Because that was the situation.

You would have to catch me in a state of intoxication severe the depravity for me to look you in the eyes and encourage you to do something that I know would be the worst mistake you've ever done in your entire life, with the whole world against me.

It's diabolical his friends let him do that. And it's even worse now that he's adopted the behavior of some of the horrific people on that site.

You'd be catching me LACKING if I looked up one of my friends who would switched up there behavior into their true form of hating absolutely everything and being the worst person possible and when our publicly support that.

NO. NEVER.

And I don't care about the "but he did it from a place of good intention" bit. How did you miss the rest of the world telling you there was no good intention?

So do I think BBH is a good person on the Internet? No.

What do I think he can be a good person? Yes.

Will I ever see him as a good person? No. Not even a good friend. Good homie none of bs.

[dyketubbo]

the thing is in my mind i have such a clear way of how to properly incorporate ctubbo killing c!aimsey into the story in my head and i have like a whole dynamic in there but it makes me feel so incredibly insane because all there is in canon is just. ctubbo felt a little quirky that day killed a woman and laughed it off like.

[cdroloisms]

take a shot - dsmp!mcc fic

MCC FIC! MCC FIC! MCC FIC! To be clear, I outlined this weeks back, when teams were first announced, and I took very very little from the actual MCC itself when it came to actually writing this - all I have are the same teams, but it really exists in its own continuity outside of Real Life MCC (obviously, as it’s using the dsmp characters) and everything like that as a whole! Just to be clear :D)

The worldbuilding is also Absolutely Bullshitted start to finish, as well as any and all medical information. Rip. We’re here for a good time, not for a long or particularly accurate one - hope you guys enjoy regardless!! I had a LOT of fun writing this fic, dsmp!mcc aus my BELOVED

title obviously from win it all by derivakat

---

Michael loves MCC.

But it’s one thing to love the normal Championships and quite another when his team looks like it’s falling apart from the inside out - and as the games progress, it becomes more and more obvious that losing, this time, might not be an option.

tws: C!QUACKITY CRITICAL (sorry i promise i love him but he is NOT portrayed very nicely here, very dark portrayal of him), implied trauma, abuse, torture, panic attacks, manipulation, gaslighting, needles, hospitals, MCC-typical violence, emotional distress, prison arc, pandora’s vault themes

(16k words !! :D long boi) 

Michael loves MCC.

Of course he does! It’s fucking MCC - like, who wouldn’t love it? MCC is how he met so many people, how he met Dream, that one time, the two of them teamed with Techno and Burren and winning it all - MCC is a goddamn blast and he’s thankful every time he gets the invite that he’s able to compete. 

Still- it’s hard not to be a little more nervous, now. 

Dream gave him an invite to his SMP right after they teamed, but it wasn’t until months later that Michael actually cashed it in. Entering the server, it became very obvious very quickly that the DreamSMP, as it’s known, isn’t quite the same as its shiny media appearance. The spawn was covered in blocks, creeper holes littering the ground. The people he passed were grey-faced, too stoic to be the same, smiling faces he remembers from only less than a year ago. The air stings of gunpowder and iron. Worst of all are The Crater, shoddily covered in glass that does nothing to hide the damage done, rending the server in two straight down to bedrock, and the Prison, looming on the horizon. Absent-mindedly, Michael rubs at his left shoulder, remembering the Warden setting the prongs of his trident against the skin in warning, just hard enough to barely draw blood. Yeah, that place is bad news. 

The fact of the matter is the server is a mess. And like, okay, whatever, Michael gets it. Everyone has their issues - it’s just the DreamSMP seems to have more than most. Despite his original worries, it’s honestly not been as bad as he originally feared upon logging in; yeah, Bad and Puffy and Foolish and the rest of them are a little more trigger-happy than he might’ve expected (and he’s not going to say that Bad crying over turtles wasn’t a little startling when he first joined, but honestly he thinks Bad is just Like That.) There’s way more death than he’s really comfortable with, and Puffy keeps mentioning Bad murdering her son (Foolish? He thinks? The guy is also a literal God but like, families are weird, who’s he to judge) in a way that’s way too casual to come from anyone entirely well-adjusted, but overall his experience has been alright. 

Still, he gets the feeling that nobody exactly wants the outside world to know about the issues with the place. It’s not an issue for him usually, not when his sleeping schedule is the exact opposite of most of the people he knows and he spends most of his time screwing around on the server, anyway (usually harassing the Warden until the asscrack of dawn if he’s being honest) but with MCC, with everyone watching - he’s starting to get why everyone from the SMP was so damn tense all the time, now. 

Anyway- he loves MCC, he really does. But even that doesn’t stop him from wincing when he sees his team card, the names Dream and Quackity and Sapnap written in Scott’s looping handwriting. He’s not seen Sapnap at all since joining the server, has only heard a little about his place (something Kingdom, not that he was paying attention) from Foolish, and has no idea what the man has been up to. Quackity is his own unique can of worms; Michael doesn’t know exactly what’s up with him and his country, but everything he’s heard so far has sounded like nothing but bad news, casinos and schemes and a trail of wreckage following wherever he goes. And Dream-

Michael looks out his window, chewing on his lip, looking directly in the direction where he knows the prison stands, impenetrable, intimidating. Where Dream’s cell is, in line with his house, where he’s been hidden for months without a trace. Where the Warden had confronted him that one night, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, blood splattered on his boots. 

There’s no real ignoring an MCC invite - not without good reason, not without the admins picking up on something being up. There’s not really a choice, here, but for Michael to duck his head down and pretend everything’s fine just like everyone else from the SMP. He directs one last glance at the prison before walking away, setting the invite on his counter. If he’s lucky, everything will turn out fine. 

(He ignores the part of him that asks what’s going to happen if they’re not. No point in worrying about what hasn’t happened yet - right?) 

---

Weeks pass, the tournament creeping closer, and Michael gets no alerts from his teammates on his comm. No one comes to his house to check in, say hi, not even a ‘hey, we’re kinda competing in a massive tournament in like, seven days, you ready?’ Hell, he even starts checking his goddamn mailbox for a letter or something only to come up empty-handed every time. Never mind performing well - it’ll be a miracle if their team manages to arrive at the tournament at all. 

It isn’t until the day before MCC, the sun high in the sky at what must be near noon, when he finally gets a message on his comm. Michael fishes it out with a frustrated huff, seeing Quackity’s name pop up first when he manages to turn on the screen. 

Quackity whispers to you: you down for some practice?

It takes a couple seconds for him to blink away his shock - out of everyone he expected to arrange practice for their team, Quackity was definitely not at the top of the list. He half-thought they would have to drag him to the tournament kicking and screaming; from what he’s heard, he’s been nothing if not devoted to his country. Shaking his head, he goes to reply; practice is practice, and their team really needs it. 

You whisper to Quackity: sure. practice server?

Quackity whispers to you: yes

Pulling up his server list, Michael scrolls for the practice server, finding it and then letting the server transfer do the rest. A few nausea-inducing seconds later, he’s at the practice server spawn, standing in the middle of a neatly paved road surrounded by colorful arenas and signs. 

“Michael!” 

He turns; there, by the Battle Box arenas, Quackity is waving at him, already dressed in a red varsity jacket and a pair of shorts, the jacket bearing a front pocket embroidered with a rabbit and a large R stitched onto the back. He reaches behind him for a red bag, throws it his way for Michael to catch mid-air. 

“Got these outfits for us last minute - hope it’s alright with you,” Quackity smiles, and Michael tries to prevent his eyes from clinging to the scar spanning the entire left side of his face. “Anyway- how are you, man? I feel like we haven’t seen each other at all on the server. How’s it been?”

“I’m good- it’s been good.” Michael opens the drawstring bag, cataloguing the contents - there’s a jacket, just like Quackity’s, a pair of shorts and sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a headband, all in varying shades of red and white. “Nice outfit- thank you. Is anyone else around?”

Quackity waves a hand behind him. “Yeah- Dream’s here. Should be coming out of the arena soon, actually.” Michael looks over behind his shoulder to where he’s pointing - there, walking down the stairs, is another figure wearing all red that must be Dream. “There he is- hey Dream! Michael’s here!” 

Dream hurries down the stairs; unlike Quackity, he is wearing the sweatpants along with the same jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets. His hair is a lot longer than Michael remembers, pulled back behind his head in a ponytail, mask, as usual, fastened over his face. He settles behind Quackity, giving Michael a small wave; his hands are covered by a pair of fingerless gloves. 

“Hey, Dream!” Michael grins; it’s been such a long time since he’s seen his old teammate, and despite the circumstances and everything that’s apparently happened since then, it’s still pretty damn nice to see him. “How’ve you been?”

Dream seems to freeze for a moment, before shaking his head. “Good,” he says, quiet, sounding almost breathless. Michael’s eyes go to the slivers of skin that show on either side of his face, to the slight shake to his hands. 

“You alright? You look a little pale,” Michael asks, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way Dream stills at the words, muscles tensing, gaze averting to the side even with the mask - doesn’t miss how Quackity steps forward, looking Michael in the eye as he tosses a casual arm around Dream’s shoulder, smiling brightly. 

“Don’t worry. This idiot has just been practicing a bit too much before you got here,” Quackity gestures with a flippant twist of his wrist, “You know how he gets. Right, Dream?” 

“Um- yeah. Ha,” Dream responds just a little too late to be strictly normal, shoulders tight and nearly pulled to his ears under Quackity’s arm. “Practice- I’m a little out of shape.” 

“You sure?” Dream’s breathing hitches and Quackity steps forward, just a little bit, eyes still fixed firmly on Michael’s own even as he shifts his gaze to try and look at Dream. “We can take a break if you need, Dream-”

“I’m fine!” Dream smiles with a little stuttered breath that turns into a small laugh, “It’s- uh. It’s fine. Thanks Michael, but we can practice. Not much time left to waste, you know?”

“You sure, Dream?” Quackity says, suddenly, voice soft and sincere. “I guess it has been a while since you’ve been able to practice- you sure you don’t need a break?”

Dream shakes his head firmly. “No- it’s fine. Really- where’s Sapnap? He should be coming soon, right?”

“If you say so, pal,” Quackity replies, doubt coloring his tone as he pulls out his communicator. “I told Sapnap to come, he replied a couple minutes back; he should be here soon, I think. You want to go meet him at spawn?”

Dream nods, and they begin to set out towards the center of the server, Quackity and Dream quickly taking the lead as Michael falls back. After a minute, Quackity falls into casual conversation, rambling about something as Dream nods, Michael trailing behind the two of them and adding his own input as he sees fit. Sapnap arrives soon after, and the noise level picks up even more after that, Sapnap and Quackity falling into an easy rhythm of banter and quips as they set out to practice Battle Box and Parkour Tag, carefully working their way through the different games under Dream’s tutelage and advice. 

And here’s the thing- Michael isn’t stupid. Yeah, he’d hardly consider himself a top tier MCC player, and he’ll be the first to say that he’s nowhere near qualified to deal with the literal laundry list of issues that affect every member of the SMP, but even so, he’s not clueless. He’s good at looking at multiple sides of a situation, doesn’t easily give into intimidation or manipulation, and he’s observant as all hell. So when Quackity wraps his hand around Dream’s wrist, fingers wrapping all the way around until his knuckles pale, when Dream winces, muscles in his arm locking before letting it go limp, not protesting when Quackity drags him forward except in the tiny, tight expressions that flit across his face every few moments, tight and gasping and shaky at the corners - Michael notices. 

“See you at the tourney, yeah?” Quackity calls to him after practice with a wink before clapping Dream on the back, Michael watching silently as the muscles of Dream’s neck pull tight, head ducking to his chest. “Good job, big guy,” he says, laughing. “Keep this up for tomorrow and we’ll be good.”

“Mmhm,” Dream mutters after a brief second, “We’re- we’re gonna win.”

“Betting on it, pal,” Quackity replies, voice light in a way that completely fails to explain Dream’s full-body flinch. “MCC, huh? Can’t fucking wait.”

“See you tomorrow, Quackity,” Michael says as he presses DreamSMP on his server list, pretending that a chill doesn’t crawl down his spine at the smile that the other man throws his way in return. 

---

There’s no real easy answer.

Michael comes to that conclusion at some point in the middle of the night, restless and pumped on way too much adrenaline to go to sleep. He can’t outright antagonize Quackity, can’t let him know he knows something’s up - not when Quackity had already spent the majority of practice keeping one dark, narrowed eye on him at all times, lips pursed in a slight frown whenever he thought Michael wasn’t looking. He’s not stupid; whatever’s happening between Dream and Quackity is secret, and kept that way for a reason. His mind goes back to the brief flashes of anxiety that had moved over Dream’s face before he could react fast enough to school them back into a carefully neutral position; whatever it is, he doubts it bodes well for Dream in the slightest. 

Unfortunately, his hands are pretty damn tied. He knows public opinion on the masked man in the server is overwhelmingly negative, but has no damn idea how far it extends. How many people are in on whatever’s happening in that damn prison? How many people know what would make Dream, bold and bright and recklessly confident in all of Michael’s (rather limited) memories, into someone so quiet, unimposing, nervous? His head spins with the possibilities, with the ever-present reminder to not make a fuss, let the tournament pass on, to never, ever let anyone find out what’s going on within the SMP. Should he do anything at all? 

Too soon, it’s morning, and he drags himself out of bed with a groan to glare at the sun streaming through his window. Somewhere, Quackity and Dream and Sapnap are also waking up, are preparing to compete in one of the biggest damn tournaments to exist. Michael sighs, glancing over to where he’s set out his outfit, freshly pressed and waiting. Any other day, and he’d probably be fucking ecstatic. Here, he buries his head in his hands, muffling a frustrated groan against the palm of his hands. 

He loves MCC, but he sure as hell doesn’t like whatever the hell is going on with the rest of his team. 

Getting into the server goes smoothly enough. The outfit is comfortable and looks damn good, props to whoever made the thing, and the sight of the multicolored crowd successfully manages to tamp down some of his nerves. He busies himself with saying hi to all of the members waiting in the lobby, happy for the chance to talk to some people he hasn’t seen in ages, feels the night of anxieties wash away with every stupid joke told and burst of laughter drawn from his lungs. 

They come back the moment Scott steps up in front of the lobby. “Teams, it’s time to head to your team rooms! The tournament will begin in fifteen minutes,” Scott says, expression sunny and bright, “we’re wishing you all luck for a great performance today! May the best team win!” 

In a flurry of movement, they’re all whisked to their rooms for a final few minutes of preparation and morale-boosting, and Michael enters the glorified dressing room to Quackity, Dream, and Sapnap already standing there, seemingly in the middle of conversation. 

“You ready to win?” Sapnap yells, and Quackity whoops, and Michael manages a small cheer of his own. They’re all visibly nervous; Quackity has scarcely stopped moving, pacing from one side of the room to the next; Sapnap is basically jumping in place where he stands. Dream stands at the very back of the room, looking tense; Michael directs a wave his way and gets a small one in return. 

“Game plan, game plan,” Quackity mutters, “do we know what games we’re playing first? Dream?”

He nods at Dream, and Dream stands up straighter, mouth falling open.

“Oh- um,” he hesitates, a strand of hair flopping forwards as he tilts his head in thought. “We’ll want to save Parkour Tag and Battle Box towards the end- maybe something more high-risk at the beginning, but not first, just to boost morale,” his teeth catch on his bottom lip, “Maybe something like To Get To The Other Side? If they have that- or Build Mart, if we can get it out of the way.” He shakes his head. “If that’s alright- I mean-”

“Great,” Quackity cuts in smoothly. “Sapnap? Michael? Does that sound good to you?”

Sapnap flashes a thumbs up, and Michael nods. “Yeah, sounds great. Thanks, Dream.”

Dream’s head snaps towards him, mouth slightly open in shock. The sight of it makes Michael’s gut twist uncomfortably; there’s something about how surprised he is, at the nervous hesitancy with which he spoke that was nothing like what Michael remembers of his easy leadership in that MCC with Techno, that doesn’t sit right at all in his stomach. Even with his expression largely hidden, there’s no mistaking the clear, genuine surprise on his face at the idea of someone thanking him - Michael tries to tell himself that he’s reading too much into it as Quackity continues to speak. 

“We’re going to win,” he grins, just a little too sharp at the edges, “so get out there and play like your lives depend on it, yeah?” 

Sapnap cheers, and again, Michael and Dream follow. It’s not until he’s outside the door, within the clamor of screaming teams and people counting down with the timer that Michael realizes that Quackity was staring at Dream the entire time. 

---

Michael curses, frustrated, when he’s knocked off a platform again, making sure to flip Krinios the bird before he falls into the Void entirely. When he makes it to the other side, Quackity and Dream are already deep in conversation - if you can call it that. Even from here, it looks worryingly one-sided.

“-were you thinking, falling off there-” Quackity’s hand is on Dream’s shoulder, Dream standing stock-still in front of him, “you better be taking this seriously, Dream.”

“Hey- sorry about that,” Michael calls with a wave, “I swear Krinios had it out for me. At least I made it across, right?” 

Quackity turns, startled, and in the split-second that it takes for him to register Michael’s appearance, his expression smooths over into something friendlier, more inviting. “Michael!” He says, enthusiastic, and it’s like the anger that had filled his words just seconds before was never there at all. “Don’t- don’t worry about it, man. We all kinda dropped the ball on that one, right Dream?” 

The words should be encouraging, just simple ribbing between teammates. Dream’s mask is still ducked down, facing the floor, shoulders slightly hunched in. 

“Um- Sapnap did pretty good,” Dream says, quiet, “he got top ten, right?” 

Michael looks over to where Sapnap is standing a little ways away, seemingly busy typing on his communicator. Quackity laughs, sharp and loud. 

“True,” he punches Dream lightly on the upper arm, and Michael watches the way he freezes the second the fist makes contact with his jacket, “come on, man, you’re losing your touch. You really gonna let yourself get beat by Sapnap?” he shakes his head, still laughing as he pulls open his communicator. “Jesus- even I beat you in that last round. Watch your spot, Dream, I’m coming for you.” 

“I mean,” Michael says when a second passes and it becomes clear Dream isn’t going to respond, “Dream was doing pretty well with the last two rounds, right? I thought I saw his name pretty far up there.” 

Quackity takes a second before responding, again, staring at Michael oddly as he does. “That’s true,” he concedes, “hey- I was just making a joke, don’t worry. It’s all for fun, right Dream?”

His gaze goes to Dream, and automatically, Michael follows. Dream seems to startle under the attention, twitching Quackity’s direction in the awkward silence that results. Michael watches as the mask slants slightly to face Quackity, as Quackity looks back at him with an intense, unreadable expression, shoulders strangely tense. Whatever unsaid conversation that seems to pass between them is entirely lost on Michael as Dream finally responds with a sudden, almost strangled bark of laughter. 

“Yeah- just jokes,” his fingers twist over one another, hands held close together in front of his body, “Though Qu- Q’s right, I- I should probably pick it up. We’re playing to win.” 

A ding alerts them to the end of the round, and Michael steadies himself in preparation for the teleport to the next map. As he turns, he catches Quackity’s expression, once again, and the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he continues to look at Dream. 

“Good luck,” he calls just before they enter the next round, and tries not to think too much about what he’s saying it for. 

---

They manage pretty well for the rest of To Get To The Other Side, finishing with a second place overall that got cheers from Sapnap and even a slight smile from Dream. Hole in the Wall, on the other hand, has been a lot less successful - though Michael will be the first to say that it’s his fault. His practice in the last few months has been lackluster (at best) and it definitely showed in the arena. 

He leans over the railing, watching Dream and Sapnap through the crowd of participants left that have yet to be knocked out by the giant walls of slime. Quackity’s standing next to him, having been similarly thrown off the platform early in the round, expression tight and lips set in a small frown, and looking at him for too long makes Michael uneasy so he looks down at the arena again. They’re in the last round, and they’re supposed to be making callouts anyway for their teammates still participating below.

Without thinking, once again, Michael looks over at Dream. Sue him, he knows the guy best and Dream has been acting odd all day, to put it lightly. Even ignoring the part of him that’s screaming that something’s wrong, that there’s something up that has everything to do with the beanie-wearing man standing besides him, it only takes a few minutes of observation to see that Dream is - for the lack of a better word - off. Michael watches as he vaults over another wall, only barely managing to bring himself to his feet in time on the other side. Dream’s movements - even to his untrained eye - have always been fluid, effortless. He jumped and vaulted and ran like gravity didn’t exist, like every physics-bending maneuver he made was as easy as breathing. Michael remembers watching him sprint over the parkour course before, time completely unmatched as he appraised each obstacle and basically flew his way through, sounding hardly even winded when he whooped loudly in victory from the top of the salmon ladder. In total contrast, Dream jerks away from the coming wall again, movements sloppy and harsh as he scrambles to the other side of the disc-shaped arena. He’s still fast, and still making jumps, but everything is strangely angled where it had once been fluid, stopping and starting suddenly, moving in bursts of speed and then skidding to sudden stops. 

“WEST!” Quackity shouts, and Michael watches as Dream’s head turns jerkily at the noise before he dives out of the way of the incoming wall and manages, barely, to twist around the side. Michael winces at the tumble he takes on the opposite side, clutching his chest slightly as he stands back up again. 

“North!” Michael calls, because he should probably actually help his teammates, huh, and Dream manages to move around this one better, jumping through a hole in the wall and tucking and rolling as he lands. “Nice jump- East!” 

It’s an easy wall, thankfully, and both Sapnap and Dream visibly take a breath as they stand in place for the wall to pass over them. As it passes, a droning buzz comes from the speakers, and the walls below them speed up. 

“South-to your right!” Michael shouts as they turn, eyes turning between all of the false walls before finally focusing on the right one, his shout echoed by a similar one from Quackity. At each one of the calls from the man besides him, Dream seems to tighten further, movements increasingly erratic as he dodges and weaves around the walls. There’s still a lot of people left - Michael follows Dream through the crowd with a frown, watching as he and Sapnap jump the next wall, Dream’s foot nearly catching on the top edge. 

“West-” Dream flinches, jumping over the two-high wall at the last possible second, landing completely off-balance on the other side and falling to the ground. He scrambles to his feet, but there’s already a wall at the west edge of the platform - his head turns, still searching for the wall - Quackity yells.

“LEFT!”

Something in Dream’s movements seem to shift, even in the distance - Michael watches as he immediately, almost robotically, steps to the left at Quackity’s voice, not even jumping, not turning his head to take in his surroundings, just moving instinctually at the words, and slams into the coming wall hard enough to get flung into the middle hole in the platform. Quackity curses, fist crashing into the railing as Dream falls and the chat message shows on their communicators, and a second later he’s materialized beside them, face oddly slack and mask focused somewhere faraway. 

“Shit,” Dream mutters when he seems to come back into himself, shaking his head and then turning to the two of them, still by the railing, “Dammit. Sorry, I-“ 

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael cuts in before Quackity can speak. “You did good.” 

“I-” Dream catches Quackity’s gaze, then pushes his head away, mask facing the ground. Something about it and his raised shoulders and the dark, angry glare that Quackity directs over the railing when Michael looks back makes him shift in place, uneasy. “Could’ve done better, ha. Sorry.” 

The three of them watch, silent, as Sapnap continues to compete. He manages to get pretty damn far, making it to the top three, but getting knocked off-balance by a wall and off the platform just before the timer sounds. Michael cringes back at the sound of it over the speakers, watches the other contestants settle into place, panting, in victory.

“Great job, Sapnap,” Michael shouts when he materializes in front of them, and the other two are quick to echo his sentiments. If they sound a little duller than they should be, if Quackity’s jaw seems clenched and Dream’s all coiled up like a spring, far too tense, it’s from placing lower than they wanted and slipping in the rankings, not anything else.

Keep your head down, Michael reminds himself, and everything’s gonna be fine. And if the words ring more and more hollow with every repetition, well, that’s for him to ignore and for everyone else to never, ever find out. 

---

Buildmart is chosen next, which they all groan at, but at least it’s going to be out early and not left to ruin all of their scores later. Michael takes his place at his build, one third from the left side - it’s some abomination of colored glass and white concrete meant, if he is to guess, to emulate a stained glass window. He’s between Dream and Sapnap, the former positioned in front of a flower-dotted grass field with a picnic table, the latter staring down a miniature car with black concrete for tires and stone buttons for detailing. He breathes a steady breath as they await the countdown, already planning for his trip to the Colors section to grab materials for his build and the others’- Buildmart isn’t his strongest game, but it’s not his worst either, and he’s damn well going to try his best. 

He skids into the portal with an armful of colored concrete and glass, spilling half of its contents inside a chest before running to his build. He pulls himself to the crafting bench to craft - he squints at his build - he needs four red glass panes and 3 yellow, right. As he brings the panes to his inventory and begins laying out the frame of the build in concrete, he looks over to Dream, who is noticeably struggling with placing the flowers in his build and getting the placements to match that of the original. He knocks away a white tulip with a muffled curse, sounding frantic as he looks back to the original, and places it again to no avail. 

It seems that his struggle hasn’t only caught Michael’s attention, as the statue to the leftmost side of the room explodes in gold coins and confetti - Quackity has finished his build and is now looking at Dream with narrowed eyes. Dream places the flower again, and the build refuses to respond. Quackity’s gaze narrows further, and he opens his mouth-

“Hey Quackity!” Michael starts speaking before he’s even noticed that he’s opened his mouth, fumbling as he regains awareness of what he’s doing and tries to find a direction for his sentence to go, “do you have any concrete?”

Quackity looks at him like he’s grown a second head, which is fair, considering there’s a block of white concrete pretty obviously visible in his hand. “Um- no? Weren’t you supposed to go to Colors?”

Dream finally manages to place the tulip where it belongs, and the build between them disappears in another explosion of gold glitter. Michael laughs awkwardly. 

“Sorry- haha. I got a little mixed up.” He places the last piece of white concrete, watching as his own build disappears. A little wooden cottage takes its place, made of what appears to be just oak wood and cobblestone. “Are you going to get wood? Or should I?”

“I- You get wood,” Quackity shakes his head, visibly frustrated, “And I’ll get stone. We have to hurry, we’re falling behind.” 

After that, Michael finds it a little too easy - or maybe not easy, but at least tolerable, to interrupt when Quackity looks a little like he’s about to fall on the side of being angry versus just annoyed, stepping between his angry glares at Dream with a forced smile and an incessant string of annoying questions- 

“Hey Quackity, do you have any spare iron?”

“Hey Quackity, I think you placed that a little too far back.”

“Hey Quackity, can you take a look to see what I placed wrong?” 

It’s not perfect. It’s hardly even functional; Michael knows that Quackity has begun with the habit of directing death glares at his back whenever he thinks he’s not looking, his responses to Michael’s questions becoming more and more clipped, often paired with irritated grumbles and sighs. Sapnap, when Michael looks at him, seems largely engrossed with his own builds, but he’s also begun looking over at the two of them with a vaguely dissatisfied expression, and Dream only seems to be getting more jumpy with every frustrated growl out of Quackity’s mouth. Even Michael’s forced levity and falsely ignorant questions can’t do much against Quackity’s anger when they walk out of Buildmart dead last for the minigame, dropping their team all the way down to seventh in the overall rankings, and the tension within the team as they walk out - Quackity nearly stomping, Dream following with his hands wringing around each other and head ducked fearfully - is almost enough to make Michael scream. He looks at the scoreboard with a worried expression as he enters the Decision Dome, trying to quell the sinking feeling in his gut. 

There’s still five more games to go, and he’s not sure how long they can last before something snaps. 

---

Battle Box is chosen next, and they react to the game with quiet cheers and slightly grim faces. Michael’s been in enough MCCs to know that this game, of any, is crucial - after their lacking performances in the last two games, a good showing at Battle Box will be crucial to pull them back into the competition and raise morale. With Sapnap and Dream, if this were any normal game, they should be able to sweep through a good amount of the competition without much effort. As it is, though, Michael looks at the two more combat-oriented members of his team with a worried expression, the two barely even able to meet each other’s eyes. Their interactions so far have been less than promising- if they can’t hold it together for this round, well. 

Michael shakes his head. They’ll do fine. They have to. 

Even so, the first round only seems to confirm his concerns - they get woolrushed almost immediately, and in Dream and Sapnap’s stumbling to get to mid, nearly crashing into each other and focusing their efforts on the same player by accident, the other team manages to fill out the wool, sending them back to the spawn box even more frustrated than before. 

“Amazing teamwork, guys,” Quackity snarks immediately, and Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Like you did that much.” 

Sapnap is still staring at Dream oddly, Dream turning his head to avoid his gaze. The two of them look largely oblivious to Quackity and his whole deal, even as Quackity whirls around to give him the stink eye. 

“You didn’t do anything either, if I remember correctly,” Quackity mutters, and Michael shrugs. 

“Fair.” 

A ding alerts them to the round’s end, and they resign themselves to preparing for the next round. Michael picks the extra arrows from the wall, knowing that no one else will want the kit, and watches as Dream anxiously runs his hands over the crossbow. 

The next round goes better, barely; Michael and Quackity end up knocked out pretty early, but Dream and Sapnap manage to kill the rest of the team soon after. He watches from the box as they fill in the wool, Dream looking awfully tense as he shears away the white wool for Sapnap to fill it with red. Quackity watches them both with a tight expression, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

Michael turns away, ignoring him, going back to watching Dream and Sapnap still standing within the arena. Both of them look awkward, oddly out of step with each other - Michael’s not watched them fight much, but he knows that they have a reputation as a pair, was there for the Sky Battle round where they completely wiped through the competition. Even here, Sapnap moves forward and Dream flinches back - there’s something heavy and tense between them, lingering in the few words they’ve spoken to each other, if they’ve even spoken to each other at all, one always rushing forward too fast or following just a little too slow. They’re still brilliant fighters, almost unrivaled in hand-to-hand combat and with swords, but the faltering communication is sure to hurt them more in the future. 

His worries come true just three rounds later, the two in between being narrow wins for their team, each a little more shaky than would be comfortable. Michael has found himself easing off the worst of his anxiety in verbally sparring with Quackity, jabbing at the other with offhand remarks and little needling jokes to keep his attention off the other two, especially as his glare has become more pronounced and his words more angry. Even so, nothing he does or can do will fix the odd tension between Dream and Sapnap, whose communication remains as stilted and awkward as ever. 

They’re facing a stronger team, PVP wise, with Punz and Seapeekay, and Michael ends up falling in a bow duel against Jack. He watches as the Captain falls to a potion by Sapnap, then as Jack is taken out by a crossbow bolt courtesy of Dream, just before Quackity falls to a well-timed bow shot from the opposing team. 

That leaves the strongest PVPers to battle it out, and Dream and Sapnap manage to team up and kill CPK - but not without taking a nasty damage potion to the face that must leave the two of them low. Michael watches Punz, booking it to mid with a crossbow, anxiously - both of them would be a oneshot with the thing, and on the condition that he takes no damage before fighting with either of them outright, he’s probably got enough health to hold out a few hits. 

Sapnap pulls out a health potion, and Michael grins - that’ll be good for the two of them, and should secure them the win - only for him to gesture roughly with his sword and for Dream to stagger backwards, panic flashing over his face. He only seems to grow more fearful at the sound of glass shattering on the ground, falling backwards further - far enough to be largely out of range of health pot - and in their shock, Punz manages to catch both of them off guard and nail Sapnap with a crossbow bolt that downs him for the round before similarly dispatching Dream in two hits of his sword.

Sapnap explodes upon respawn in the box - “What was that? I had a health pot!”

“I-” Dream fumbles, face still oddly pale, “Sorry I didn’t- I- I-”

“We had that round!” Sapnap’s arms flail forward as he gestures angrily, Dream freezing further as one hand skims past his shoulder. “I can’t believe- I had a health pot! Punz was on, like, half! We could’ve killed him!”

“Easy, easy,” Quackity moves forward, putting a hand on both of their shoulders - Sapnap seems to relax immediately, while Dream, if anything, only looks more tense. “It’s time for the next round - we’ll talk about this later, alright?” 

Dream nods, movements overly tense, and Quackity flashes a toothy smile his way as Sapnap moves back, still mumbling to himself. He and Quackity move to talk in the back corner, words quiet enough that Michael cannot make them out, and something sick and cold slithers over his spine. Sapnap and Quackity are fiancés, aren’t they? 

Michael looks over at Dream, mask still covering his face as he looks away through the glass to the arena, shoulders still tight as Michael’s pretty sure they’ve been for as long as he’s seen him since he came onto the server. He remembers the panic that make itself obvious on his face every time Quackity came up to him, even as covered as it is, the similar- if not the same- fear that had painted his face when he respawned fresh off of the Battle Box round after Sapnap’s sword had passed a little too close to his body. 

Quackity and Dream- he’s sure, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, that there’s something going on there, dark and dreadful and poisonous. Who’s to say that Sapnap isn’t involved, as well? 

---

They finish Battle Box decently well, but not as well as they’d hoped, pulling them up to fifth place with a decently large gap between them and fourth. Quackity and Dream disappear immediately as the Audience Votes begin coming in, leaving Sapnap and Michael to stand awkwardly in the lobby to wait for the rest of their team to come back. Michael watches the crowd for a glimpse of Quackity and Dream, comes up empty. A sigh fizzles through his teeth as he looks up into the sky, the endless blue doing little to ease his nerves - he’s worried, even if he doesn’t want to think about it, for his teammates. For Dream. 

It doesn’t take a genius to see that the man is scared of Quackity, that there’s an odd sort of history there that Michael conveniently has no information about. Whatever it is, it’s left Dream unsure and uncharacteristically nervous, left the entire team floundering without proper leadership to tie them all together. Really, a part of him knows that the Championships should be the least of his concerns - if he were braver, or a little better at combat, or a little less inclined to just let things pass as they always have, then he’d be raising a fuss. Getting in the way, talking to Dream, doing something other than making backhanded compliments to Quackity that he’s sure have been doing little more than annoy the man further. 

“Michael?” Sapnap comes within his line of sight, lips pressed together in a carefully put-together expression that Michael is sure will collapse the moment they’re away from others’ prying eyes, “Can we speak for a moment?”

Michael forces another easy smile to his face as he turns towards his teammate, feels a little disgusted at the amount of them he’s had to use to simply function with the rest of his team. “Sure! Where to?”

They walk at a brisk pace to the team room, Sapnap’s eyes focused forwards the entire time, not speaking. If he’s being honest, it’s a little awkward, but the lighthearted comment on his tongue to break the silence dies out the minute Sapnap closes the door and looks back at him with fierce, focused eyes boring into him. 

“What’s your deal?” He hisses immediately, words pitched low even though he doesn’t really have to - there’s no one nearby, and the team rooms are decently soundproofed. Michael feels his hackles rising as Sapnap’s arms cross in front of him, eyes still focused on his own as he talks. “I’m not going to lie- I don’t know you that well, even though you’re on the SMP now, but can you quit it with Quackity already?”

“Quit what?” Michael snarks - sue him - matching Sapnap’s tone with irritation of his own. 

“Don’t- you’ve been antagonizing Quackity all day,” Sapnap’s hand runs through his hair, messing up his hair and tangling it into knots, “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re kind of in the middle of a competition here? So it’d be really nice if you could save the fighting for until after we’re done?”

“Says you?” Michael can’t help the retort this time, huffing irately at the offended expression that flashes over the other’s face, “I don’t really know if you’ve noticed, but your teamwork has been a little less than stellar, today. Pot calling the kettle black, much?”

“What-” Sapnap looks confused, even through his anger, gesturing more and more wildly. “What do you even mean?”

“Oh, so are we just ignoring what just happened in Battle Box then?” 

Sapnap’s eyes flash as he closes into himself again, hands gripping at his upper arms as he crosses his arms in front of his chest once again. “That- that’s different. That’s because of Dream.”

“Oh, just keep blaming it on the other guy, why don’t you?”

“No-” Sapnap shakes his head furiously. “You haven’t been on here for nearly as long, you don’t get it, Michael. Dream- he’s-,” Sapnap flails, and Michael groans at the familiar words. 

“Dream’s what? I was on the team with the guy before, you know. It’s kind of the reason why he invited me in the first place?” He raises an eyebrow. “We worked together perfectly well then - am I supposed to believe that his self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ can’t do the same?” 

“You don’t understand,” Sapnap repeats, expression hard and oddly far away, “Dream- he’s changed- he’s done so many terrible things. I don’t know what he’s said to convince you, but he’s bad news, man. He’s hurt- so many people.” 

“Oh- you want to talk about hurting people?” 

Michael isn’t quite sure what comes over him - only really realizes a white-hot flash of rage lancing through his chest, a sleepless night and half a competition’s  worth of anxiety and frustration and build up combining into a sizzling spike of fury that briefly tinges his vision red. 

“How about the way Dream looks like he’s about to keel over whenever anyone gets close to him? How about how he flinches back at literally every loud noise and fast movement? How about how Quackity’s been making these stupid, angry comments at him for the entire competition that make him freeze for a minute each time? Or how about when you were in Battle Box and Dream backed away from your sword like he thought you were gonna drive it through his chest?” Michael barely feels himself stepping forward with each word, jabbing his index finger into the other’s chest. “You want to talk about hurting people? How about you go talk to that fiancé of yours and then come back to talk?” 

A loud, droning buzz comes over the speakers, alerting them of the end of the break. Michael steps back, face flushed in embarrassment, before the world whirls away and they’re teleported back into the Decision Dome. 

He adamantly refuses to meet Sapnap’s eyes as Quackity and Dream materialize in the sector with them, Quackity’s hand clamped around Dream’s upper arm as the other man keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, looking even more panicked and frozen than before the break. 

“You ready to win?” Quackity laughs, and Michael watches as his hand tightens around the sleeve of Dream’s jacket, knuckles paling from the strain. 

“Yeah,” Michael tries to cheer, and it feels like ash on his tongue. “Let’s do this.” 

---

Survival Games ends up being picked next - Quackity and Sapnap quickly pull up to the front of the group, close enough to be within eyesight but too far to really pick up their conversation. Michael keeps an eye out for the reddish glow of their bodies as they scout the surrounding areas for chest, staying back with Dream as they look at the other side of the road. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a smug sort of satisfaction of Sapnap seemingly confronting Quackity about whatever the hell has been going on, as awkward as his whole outburst had been. As it is, some time with Dream is nice without Quackity watching over his shoulder like a hawk - he directs a small, genuine smile at the man by his side that Dream seems to do a double take at before shyly returning it with one of his own. 

“There- I think I see a chest,” Michael points under a lamppost, running to the wooden box and flicking the lid upwards. He pulls out a chain chestplate that he promptly puts on himself, then throws over the iron boots to his teammate as well as a small stone axe that he’s sure Dream will make better use of. “We should probably catch up to the others - don’t want to be caught off guard while separated.”

Dream nods, and the two of them pick up the pace before finding another chest that Dream rummages through, this time, finding an iron sword that Michael takes for himself and a cake. 

“You’ve been doing really well so far,” Michael says after a few minutes of quiet, words becoming more firm when Dream looks up at him with a surprised expression. “Seriously- you’ve been doing great, man.”

“Thanks,” Dream smiles, words quiet and terribly sincere, and the sinking pit in Michael’s gut returns at the tone. “Not as good as I should, though. I’ve been underperforming a lot,” he laughs a little at the words, but even to Michael’s ears it rings hollow. “It’s not over yet, though.”

“No it’s not,” Michael concedes, rearranging his inventory as they run. “But it’s good enough, man, really - just look at my rankings.”

Dream huffs. “You’ve been doing good, Michael.”

“And you’ve been doing a hell of a lot better than me,” Michael tips his head in his direction. “Give yourself some more credit, man. You’ve been playing well.”

Dream smiles again, but even now the corners of his mouth seem tight, tense. “I need to play better, though, if we want to win,” he says, matter-of-fact, analytical to a damn fault. Michael rolls his eyes, but nods to concede the point. 

“Sure, but that goes for all of us, Dream,” he shakes his head. “And it’s okay if we don’t win, you know?”

“No.” 

Michael turns, frowning. Dream’s tone has become oddly flat, eyes dead as he continues to stare at the pavement under their feet. He seems to be chewing on his lip anxiously, startled out of his own thoughts when he looks up to meet Michael’s gaze. “I mean- I don’t know. I really have- want to win.” 

There’s something so carefully worded about the admission, quiet and scraped open and raw in the slow sincerity of the words. Michael wants to poke at it, wants to understand what’s left him so unsure of every step, what determination lies behind the words that has left desperation clinging to every shallow breath he draws. A crack of thunder on the horizon, heralding a player’s death, reminds him that now is not the time. 

Keep your head down. 

“Alright,” he smiles thinly, hoping that the fracturing, yawning pit of emptiness in his chest isn’t obvious in the words. “Then we’re going to win.” 

---

Michael skids to a stop at the finish line, feeling the elytra deequip as he’s thrown into spectator mode. He runs his hands through his wind-tousled hair, feeling it strain against his fingers as he roughly finger-combs it back into place. Dream and Sapnap are off to the side, standing next to each other but seemingly not speaking - Michael smiles as he floats over, still shaking the adrenaline off from the race. 

“Hey,” the two look up, smile in recognition, and Dream waves; there’s a small smile on his face, strained but present. “You both did really good!” 

“Thanks, Michael,” Dream laughs, earnest, “I did decent, I guess- haha. Top ten at least.” 

Sapnap whoops. “We’re popping off!” Michael cheers in agreement, and their efforts manage to pull Dream’s smile a little wider as he ducks his head to look away again. 

“Thanks, guys.” 

They watch as Quackity flies through the finish line, appearing in front of them and shaking his arms out as he gets his bearings. 

“Geez- that trident,” he shakes his head, looks up. “Hey, there you guys are. How’d we do?” 

“Dream got seventh,” Sapnap scrolls through his comm, looking through the rows of contestants and their times as they come in, interspersed by the occasional chat message, “And I got 10th. Michael got- 28th, I think? And you got 32nd.” 

“Hmm,” Quackity hums, “What do you think, Dream? Is that good enough to pull us to Dodgebolt?”

Once again, Michael watches as Dream stiffens under the scrutiny, head ducking down and looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Um- I don’t know,” Dream mumbles, “I messed up a trident- fell into the void once, probably could’ve done better otherwise-” his voice trails off, tensing further as Quackity takes his usual spot by his side, jabbing an elbow none-too-lightly into his ribs. 

“But you didn’t, though,” Quackity says, tone flippant, “so what do you think? With those placements- is it going to be enough?” 

“Hey, we did great, man,” Michael glares at him, more forward than he’d usually be - but all he can see is the shoulder that he has pressed against Dream’s arm, the way Dream’s stood stock still since the moment he made contact, “Lay off of Dream, would you? He did great.”

“Yeah, Q,” Michael’s eyebrows raise in surprise as Sapnap chimes in from the side, rising further when Sapnap moves forward to link his arm with Quackity’s own and half-drag him away from Dream. “Chill out, man, we popped off. We’re gonna fucking win this, ok?”

Quackity’s lips press together; he’s still smiling, but there’s no mistaking the seething darkness that lingers in his narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows, gaze still trained on the pale off-white disk of Dream’s mask. Still, with the rest of the team against him, he’s in a losing fight and he knows it; Michael watches as he visibly backs down, rolling his shoulders back as he lets Sapnap pull him further back. 

“We’re going to fucking win this,” he repeats, and Michael wonders how he manages to make the words sound so much like a threat.

---

“Sky battle,” Sapnap calls as the decision dome below them lights up in confirmation of the penultimate game, expression immediately becoming more focused as he turns back to the rest of the team. “Alright- strats, what are we thinking?”

“There’s the iron at spawn,” Dream starts, interrupted by the teleport to the Sky Battle arena, making him cut himself off comically and take a second to shake off the resulting disorientation, “And then there’s the iron in the nearby island. We gotta pick one, tower as soon as we can.”

“Got it,” Sapnap looks down, seemingly calculating, before looking up again - Michael has heard him compared to fire before, but he thinks this is the first time he’s really seen it; there’s a veritable blaze burning in his eyes as he looks at each member of the team, easily taking charge as they prepare for the first round. “Same buddy system as Survival Games - Q, stick with me, Michael, stick with Dream. I’ll tower to the next island- Dream, you good with getting the iron at spawn and crafting armor for us?” 

Dream startles, before flashing a small thumbs up at the other - Sapnap smiles wider, teeth bared dangerously.

“This is our game,” he cheers, and Michael enthusiastically whoops in reply, “we’re winning this, you got that team? Let’s go!” 

This, Michael thinks, is the way the games should’ve gone - they jump into action upon the start of the game, Michael watching as Dream races through both chests on the spawn island, getting the iron and jumping down cleanly with a water bucket before following Sapnap’s bridge to the other island. He tosses over a pair of leggings and boots as he lands, then takes Sapnap’s excess iron to craft the other pieces of iron for himself and Sapnap as the other man begins shooting at opposing teams. Their communication is near wordless, simple one- or two-word requests communicating all they need as they follow each other seamlessly into the main arena area, sealing off their entrance as they search the ring for other teams.

Sapnap, especially, seems to have shifted - instead of waiting for Dream to take the lead, he seems comfortable barrelling on forward on his own, trusting for Dream to follow his steps. Michael watches as the two of them easily work through the two lagging members of Orange, shooting through a gap in the wall to catch an unsuspecting Yellow player chased by the border. Michael ends up dying to an unlucky block of TNT placed on his head - curses out what appears to be Quig, bounding over to the other side of the arena, and follows Dream and Sapnap as they continue to fight their way through the competition. 

It’s not perfect, for sure - Dream hesitates at a bad place a minute later, ending with Sapnap getting 2v1ed and exploding in a flash of red sparkles. Dream is similarly dispatched a few seconds after, and the three of them watch Quackity, caught in the crossfire of two other teams, before he also goes down. 

“Good work, team,” Sapnap says as he appears, disoriented, in spectator mode, and they watch the remaining two teams battling in a rapidly shrinking border before Fruit falls as well, leaving Pink as the winners. “That was close- we’ve got this.” The conviction in his voice leaves no room for argument, and Michael, briefly, feels bad for anyone that stands in the way of it. 

With the second round, they once again fall into rhythm without any major hiccups - someone tries to cut them off before entering the main arena, but are made quick work of by Sapnap’s relentless onslaught. As Michael watches, Dream seems to regain confidence as well, moving more to fight with Sapnap side by side instead of just playing support, tugging him back from a risky play and catching Punz in a nasty combo that does him in when he manages to slip past Sapnap. 

The four of them end up in the final stand off in the middle, but end up getting caught too high up and killed by the border before they can jump down. Sapnap hisses at the narrow defeat, but the disappointment has hardly seemed to dim his determination - if anything, it seems to burn brighter. 

“Last round,” he mutters, and Michael watches as Dream walks up to him, bumping him lightly with his shoulder. 

“This is our game,” he says, a small smile appearing on his face, and Sapnap returns it with a fiery, blinding one of his own. 

“Ours,” he says, and even just standing on the side, watching - Michael believes it. 

Still, his concerns have yet to disappear - they linger in his mind as they jump into an adrenaline-filled last round, jumpy from excitement and victory just within their grasps. Dream is still more jittery than he should be, taking a second more than usual to react to fights, and his teamwork with Sapnap - while good - is still noticeably rusty. Michael’s lips thin at the memory of Dream backing away from Sapnap’s sword in Battle Box, hunched into himself, almost on the floor, with a clearly desperate edge to his expression - and no matter how he tries, he can’t quite manage to shake it off. 

Unfortunately enough, the third round doesn’t bode well for them from the start - Quackity gets bowed off while bridging to the main arena, and upon entrance there they end up flanked, hard, by another team in a conflict that gets Michael killed within seconds. Sapnap and Dream book it to the other side of the arena, where they manage to work through a full team without too much trouble - but the next minute brings another half-team flying at them from the back, catching them in the middle of trying to recuperate. The two focus Dream in the middle of eating a steak, and Michael watches as Dream steps back instead of moving forward to fight, that same shade of fear making his muscles seize as he stands, stock still, watching helplessly as swords fly his way- Michael cries out, but there’s nothing he can do-

Between one blink and the next, Sapnap is standing in front of Dream, a snarl painting his features as he whirls through both players in a fury. Michael watches, awed, as his sword weaves and dances between the two attacking Dream, making quick work of them both until they’re no more than items scattered over the ground, then grabs Dream by the wrist and drags him up a nearby ladder onto the upper floor, plopping him by the wall and then backing off. 

Sapnap stands back as Dream sits against the wall, breathing fast and labored, dropping to his knees with his hands in front of him, palms up, no weapons in hand. Michael watches, frantic, for the signs of any teams nearby - with Dream panicking and Sapnap’s back to the rest of the arena, they’d be easy pickings - but for once, luck seems to be on their side, because no one comes. Dream heaves a breath through his lungs, deep and shuddery - Sapnap watches, lips flat from concern, but doesn’t speak. 

“You good to continue?” he asks, when Dream seems calm enough to recognize his surroundings, and Dream looks up at the words, jaw slack from shock and disorientation, before his head dips in a firm nod. 

“Good,” Sapnap smiles, tight-lipped and fiercely determined, fiercely loyal, as he reaches out a hand that Dream moves to take. “Let’s go fuck them up, yeah? You and me, just like we used to.”

Michael watches, heart in his chest, as they stand together to face the rest of the competition, towering towards the middle and facing off with the remaining teams,  watches as they move forwards through explosions and buckets of lava, coalescing onto the middle island, as they battle through the remaining opponents as one in a clean spiral of clashing blades and flying arrows, fighting with their backs to each other in the center of the arena. He watches as a well-placed fishing rod by Dream knocks their final opponent off the platform, leaving them in the middle, triumphant, as the only remaining team - 

Watches, a brilliant, bubbling laugh in his chest as Dream and Sapnap take their spots in the middle of the arena, standing side by side as Sapnap raises Dream’s hand in victory, both laughing and cheering  into the sky.

---

Their performance in Sky Battle manages to pull them to third - but second place still stands a few hundred coins away, and they watch anxiously as Parkour Tag is chosen as the last game and they are transported over the arena. 

“Last game,” Sapnap calls, “We’ve got this, alright?” 

He gets terse, short nods in return - it’ll be a close game, and even Michael is feeling the pressure. He breathes a soft, quiet breath through his teeth as they prepare, looking over to the opposite team as they choose their hunters and runners. 

“Dream, you up to hunting first four?” Sapnap seems to be watching the effects of his words more, waiting for Dream’s agreement before moving forward, sliding into the position of leader easily when Dream seems to struggle. Dream nods and steps into the hunter’s box, lips pressed together, flat and focused, and Michael turns back to the arena to plan out his route. 

Parkour, by far, is not his strong suit. It hadn’t been his strong suit during Parkour Warrior and sure as hell isn’t it now - he enjoys it well enough, but with the pressure of a hunter on him or the time creeping past and the competition standings hanging over his head like a guillotine, he’s prone to slipping up and he knows it. The map is full of dizzying, multi-colored structures and difficult jumps, the twists and turns of the arena making his head spin. Being good at parkour is more than being good at movement - it involves being able to make split-second decisions and execute them with no time to hesitate. Unfortunately, Michael isn’t particularly good at any of that, so Parkour Tag mostly just stresses him the hell out. 

He sets out to the arena, listening for callouts over comms as he fumbles over the buildings. Halfway through the game, Dream’s voice comes through comms, quiet, focused. 

“Gottem.” 

“Nice, Dream,” Michael smiles, trying not to trip over a particularly hard jump, only to fall to being tagged in the back by the opposing team’s hunter - Ant, if he remembers right. “Sapnap and Q are still in- we’ve got this.”

Once again, each time, Dream races through the opposing team in seconds, seemingly going faster with each round. Michael has heard his reputation as a hunter before, but only now is he really appreciating the extent - the speed at which he manages to dispatch all three opponents is downright terrifying. They manage to win all four rounds, lingering around second place overall on the leaderboards, before Sapnap and Dream switch off for hunting. 

With each round, Michael watches Dream in the lobby, watching as he tenses further in focus and determination and no small degree of fear, but it hadn’t been nearly as obvious in between rounds. Now, with him in the arena with Quackity and himself, Dream’s jumpiness is all that more palpable, adrenaline making him pace and jump in place from where he stands at the edge of the place. The glass lowers, and he explodes into motion, bounding on top of the nearest tower to wait for the hunter to come towards them. 

Michael ends up caught first, early in the round, once again, and resolves to following Dream over the glass to watch his movements and make callouts for the hunter chasing behind him. Watching Dream move through the arena, dodging below fixtures and through tunnels and jumping from tower to tower with seemingly no regard for gravity pulling him down, it’s become all the more obvious that this is his element. He makes another hairpin turn around a pole, kicking himself up over a tower and then diving from it to a nearby building, landing on a ledge inside it, hands clutching the wall - Michael watches, quietly awed, as he outlasts the hunter, landing in small, panting breaths in the lobby. 

“Great work,” he cheers, quiet, as Dream shakes off the last dregs of the adrenaline, all of them watching the leaderboard anxiously, “Just three more rounds, alright?” 

The rounds that follow continue in much of the same vein - Dream, once he’s gotten started, seems near-impossible to chase down; Michael and Quackity provide support, distracting the hunter for as long as they can until they get tagged, but part of him wonders if it’s all even necessary. Dream flies from structure to structure seemingly unhindered by The Laws That Be, expression firm, if a little frantic, as he parkours his way through the arena. To their credit, the hunters chase, and several come pretty close - but Dream, worked up on adrenaline or anxiety or some twisted mix of the two, races over and around the buildings within the arena like his life depends on it.

It’s a surprisingly (if sickeningly) apt description - the skill in parkour is far from unacknowledged on Dream’s record; they all know his reputation with Parkour Warrior, all know that there are little that can match his skill as a traucer - but there’s something newly desperate in the way he runs, the muscles of his body tight and taut even in between rounds, expression permanently tight at the corners from fear. His movements, lacking in their usual fluidity, are made up with sheer speed and mad scrambles up walls that no one else seems to dare replicate. It’s concerning, even to Michael’s untrained eye, how frantic he seems the entire time, the flashes of expressions that he’ll direct towards the hunter like being caught by them will be his end, but- if anything, at least it’s effective. 

Between his parkour and Sapnap’s own skill, they manage to dominate the other teams without much issue, and the bonuses from eliminating the other team first combined with Dream’s survival points each round land them a first place for the game by just a few hundred coins. The four of them watch with bated breaths for the event standings, whooping and cheering together when it shows the red rabbits in second - 

“DODGEBOLT, BABY!” Quackity cheers, loudly, and the rest of them join him, laughing and screaming incoherently, “LET’S FUCKING GO!” 

“LET’S FUCKING GO!” Sapnap punches the air with a loud, resolute whoop of joy, and Dream - still shaking off the jitters of his last round in Parkour Tag - soon joins in with a few cheers of his own. 

Michael watches them all with a smile on his face as they cheer in victory - Dodgebolt has them against the Yellow Yaks, which will be a hard match up, but between Dream and Sapnap’s skill, if they all stay focused, they shouldn’t have any issue. 

They’ve done it. They’ve made it to Dodgebolt - if they keep their heads in the game, then they should win. All he has to do is keep his head down a little longer, long enough to win them the game, long enough for them to go home with new crowns and new coins, long enough for him to go back to living his quaint little life in his quaint little house - going back to heckling the Warden at night and hanging with Bad and Puffy, working on builds and living life away from the rest and pretending that nothing is wrong. The server will go back to normal come tomorrow, and it will all be okay. 

The smile slips off his face. 

They’ve done it. And then they’ll go back to the SMP, and Dream might evade whatever immediate consequences come with losing, but there’s no evidence that whatever’s caused that heartstopping, devastating fear that has characterized his every move is going to stop. They’ll win, and they’ll go back to the SMP, and they’ll keep dying and fighting wars and keep pretending that the world they live in is normal; they’ll go back to the server, and Michael will go back in his house while Dream goes back into his cell directly across from it, still locked in a black box with no way in or out, no means of communication with anyone outside, locked away with the key thrown away for anything to happen with no one to know-

Michael glances over to Dream, to the tense edge of his shoulders that has never left for as long as the tournament has continued and long before. To the grey-faced, grey-eyed inhabitants of the SMP, coming to the Championships with sealed lips and a shared determination to never reveal that anything is wrong, to pretend that things are normal and move on. 

Michael’s hands clench into fists at his side, then unclench, the helplessness cutting through his excitement like a splash of cold water straight through his chest. They’ll win the Championship, and then what? They’ll go back to the server, and then what? 

He looks up at the sky, avoiding the eyes of the rest of his team as they are teleported to the arena. Around him, nothing comes in reply. 

---

“Shit-”

Sapnap disappears in a flourish of red particles, and Michael winces as Dream picks up the arrow he left behind, biting his lip as he watches the opposite side maneuver on the ice.

Both of Dream’s shots hit true, and Michael switches to dodging over the ice as the opposing team begins to shoot. His mind is still buzzing with uncertainty, questions whirling around his skull and making his head spin, the reminder to just let things be raging against the anxiety that has wormed its way deep into his bones for the better part of the day. His performance has fallen a bit as a result, and they’re tied, 2-2, for the last round of Dodgebolt against Yellow - winner takes all. 

He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to tell, but he wants to fall back into the background. He wants to make a difference, but also wants nothing more than to go on pretending that everything is fine. It would be so, so easy to move on and wash his hands of the whole affair - it’s not like anyone else will know, only himself and the guilt that he’s sure will haunt him to remind him of his failures. Is there even anything he can do? He’s no genius at combat, or parkour, or strategy- all he has are his eyes, his ability to see what the hell is happening with no means to change any of it. 

An arrow whizzes towards him, too low to hit, and falls to the ice by his feet. Michael feels it plop into his inventory as he runs past it, shivering slightly from the cold or adrenaline or some mix of the two - not that he can really tell. The other team still has an arrow, the gleaming arrowhead catching the light as the person shooting - Jack, it looks like - moves it from one side to the other, looking for someone to aim. Michael lets the arrow into his hand, feeling its weight.

A sudden shock of clarity. 

He staggers back and nearly trips over his own feet, feeling relief rock his body when he manages to catch his balance - his eyes rake over the rest of his team, still dodging over the ice, completely focused on the opposing side. He worries his lip between his teeth - it’s a risk. It’s a hell of a risk, and if he messes up - they’re fucked. They’re more than fucked. There’s a good chance that this does more harm than good, a good chance that it won’t do anything at all. 

Michael takes a deep breath, and nocks his arrow. 

With his bow pointed to the floor, he doesn’t think anyone’s noticed yet - especially the rest of his team, gazes still trained over the centerline to the other side of the arena. Michael plants his feet, raises his bow, aims - he’s standing still, too still, and he can already see Jack swinging the bow towards him from the corner of his eye, preparing to let the arrow fly directly at him. That’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

Keep your head down. 

Michael lets go, and Quackity manages to turn just in time to see the arrow hit him between his eyes.

Not this time.

Michael just manages a wicked, satisfied smirk before the world disappears in a flash of red. 

---

“What the hell was that?” 

Michael teleports into the middle of the MCC main lobby, finding Quackity already mid-yell in front of the podium, where the Yellow Yaks have taken their places as the winners of the Championships, new, shining crowns on their heads as they greet the crowd with smiles and cheers. Michael turns to where the rest of the team has gathered in the corner, Quackity hissing angrily at Dream, curled into himself against the fence. 

“I- I-”

“You lost us the fucking game, that’s what you did,” Quackity grabs him by the arm, rage painting his features as he yanks Dream closer to him, ignoring the other’s panicked yell at the proximity and flailing to get away. “What the fuck- you had both the arrows. How the fuck did you miss that?” 

“Back the hell off, Quackity.”

Michael steps forward, bodily shoving Quackity out of the way - Dream’s head rises just enough for the two eyes painted on his mask to look  above where they’d been hidden behind his arms, though Michael’s far too lost in his own anger to pay any mind to him at the moment. Quackity turns his furious direction towards Michael, only seeming to get angrier as he meets his eyes. 

“Oh, fuck off, Michael- you-” he rakes a hand through his hair, “You fucking- we fucking lost because of you, you know that? We had that! We were going to win that, you fucker-” 

“And then what, Quackity?” The words Michael had been pushing back the entire day come forth, mixed with his simmering anxiety and muffled anger that he’d been forced to push down, game after game after game, one bubbling mess of emotion underscoring his tone and making Quackity rear back, “Then you’ll go back the SMP and pretend that everything’s fine and dandy? Go back to your shiny little country with a shiny new coin, beat up Dream a few times to work off the adrenaline because, hey, it’s not like anyone else is gonna know if he’s black and blue inside of that shitstain of a prison, is that right?” 

The flash of panic that makes its way over Quackity’s face is more than enough to confirm the worst of Michael’s assumptions, and the rage that has made a home in his chest only burns hotter. 

“What- what the fuck did he say?” Quackity barely manages to catch onto his tone, pressing harder with narrowed eyes and a snarl, “He’s lying, you fucking idiot, that’s all he ever fucking does-” 

“He’s not told me shit,” Michael presses forward, forcefully pushing Quackity away from Dream, who is cowering from both of them behind him, “But you would know a hell of a lot about that, wouldn’t you Quackity?”

“I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re on about, pal,” Quackity shakes his head, hair whipping past his eyes, “And I’d recommend you shut your fucking mouth before you go around hurling baseless accusations- I could have you sued for defamation, you know-”

“Oh, we’re talking law, now? Fine! We’ll talk legalities- how about we start with that casino of yours and work from there?” 

Sapnap moves over, quiet thus far as he watched from the sidelines, and Michael watches as Quackity relaxes, minisculely, at his approach - only to tense further when Sapnap presses a hand to his shoulder, meeting his eyes with blazing eyes staring right at his.

“Q,” Sapnap says, voice uncharacteristically serious, “tell the truth, now- what did you do?”

Quackity laughs - it sounds unsure, even in Michael’s ears, “Sapnap? You can’t tell me you believe-” he waves his hands frantically, “this- this fucking asshole, now, do you hear him? He sounds- he’s literally out of his fucking mind-”

Sapnap shakes his head, firm. “Quackity, I’ll need you to cut the bullshit. What did you do?” 

“He’s backing up Dream, Sapnap,” Quackity focuses his gaze on Sapnap, something creeping up in his tone, sweet and cloying despite the bitter tone, that Michael can’t quite recognize, “You know what Dream is like- he pulled the same shit with you, remember? You and George? Tommy?” He waves a hand at Dream, who ducks down further at the attention, “He hasn’t changed, man! He’s still pulling the same bullshit, still manipulating people for the hell of it- you know, the exact same thing he did to you? Don’t fall for that again, man.”

“I-” Sapnap seems to hesitate, conflict warring over his features. 

“Look at me, Sap - you know what Dream’s like. He pretends to be your friend, makes up some stupid bullshit to justify his shit - Michael hasn’t been around for as long, not like the two of us, remember? He doesn’t know.” Quackity brings his hand to Sapnap’s own, ignoring Michael’s protests as he laces their fingers together, “I care about you, Sap. All of this- I’m just worried that he’ll end up manipulating you again. I’m just trying to protect you.” 

“...liar.” 

“What?”

Sapnap steps back, wrenching his hand out of Quackity’s own. His expression, out of what Michael can see from the sliver of his face that is facing him, is stormy with fury and no small amount of regret - Quackity steps back, unease finally beginning to flicker in the corners of his self-satisfied expression as Sapnap stares him down. 

“You’re a liar, Quackity.” Sapnap draws himself up. “Now, I’m asking this for the last time- what did you do?”

Quackity’s expression stutters, falls, as Sapnap stands back next to Michael, the two of them between him and Dream. His eyes flick between their faces, then to Dream, then back again, frown deepening with every pass he makes between the three of them. Michael keeps his arms crossed in front of his chest, feeling his muscles tense with every second of silence that ticks by, Quackity seeming to grow more and more angry and tense under their scrutiny and unforgiving stances-

-a second passes, and he throws himself forward. 

“Quackity!” 

Michael only manages to throw himself out of the way of the man barrelling towards him just in time - too late, he realizes that he wasn’t Quackity’s intended target. He tackles Dream to the ground, pinning the taller man underneath himself onto the ground in a rough thump that seems to knock all the air out of him. Dream immediately begins to thrash aimlessly, jaw going slack in panic as Quackity levels his arm against his neck, going still as Quackity presses harder against his windpipe. Michael is only barely close enough to pick up what he says over the sound of the surrounding screaming, Sapnap rushing forward to pull Quackity off to no avail-

“-make what I did two weeks ago look like a fucking joke when we get back, going to make you wish you fucking died-” 

The world explodes into white.

When Michael’s vision clears, he’s face to face to the stony face of one of the MCC admins, their status displayed by the proud red [Admin] by their nametags and the fact that they’re floating several inches off the fucking floor. He backs away, strangely winded - probably from the panic or adrenaline or yelling or, more accurately, all three, as Quackity is pulled back effortlessly by an admin, easily caging his flailing limbs with a snap of code as he is frozen into place - and Michael whoops. 

“LET’S GO!” 

(The arrow hits Michael in the shoulder, and he disappears in a flash of red - only instead of going to his usual place above the Dodgebolt arena, standing with the other competitors, he finds himself teleported in front of a dizzying array of screens and buttons, too many to have any idea where they connect and how they work. Michael turns to meet the faces of the MCC Admins, each one looking at him with odd, concerned expressions and furrowed brows. 

“You shot your teammate,” one says - Noxite - and Michael nods to concede the point, not quite finding the words to speak. “Why?”

“If you had such a big issue with the teams, you could’ve just talked to Scott,” another one pipes up from the back, “I’m sure we could’ve worked something out.”

“I know, I know,” Michael runs his hand through his hair, both relieved at the plan working better than he could’ve ever fucking imagined and suddenly lost for words in front of the admins, each one looking at him with their full attention. Every nerve in his body rails against the scrutiny, reminds him to pretend that nothing is wrong - but it’s too late to pretend, now. It’s been too late for a long, long time. 

He remembers Dream, looking away all competition, voice dead and lacking all of its former vitality - remembers Puffy, hair a little greyer from stress, grief painting her face whenever she thought anyone wasn’t looking - remembers Bad, hands still shaking despite his attempts to hide it - the prison, looming on the horizon, unbeatable, impenetrable - himself, helpless, for all this time, to do anything but watch and wait. Until now. He takes a deep breath, steels himself- 

“Something’s wrong with Dream.”)

“Thank you for your information, Michael,” Noxite smiles at him, and relief throws itself through his system so fast that it makes him dizzy- “We’ll handle this from here. Good job.” 

“Holy shit- when did you get time to contact the fucking admins, Michael?” 

Michael ignores the clamor around him as the lobby bursts into activity and people talking over each other, each one probably trying to figure out what the hell just happened, ignores Sapnap muttering, awed, from beside him, to move towards Dream, still sprawled out over the floor. There’s an admin by him, standing by to seemingly keep the crowd away but not engaging with Dream directly, and Michael ducks by them to kneel down by Dream and meet his gaze. 

“Hey,” Michael smiles, still shaking from the leftover adrenaline as he presses his hands to the ground to try and hide it, “We’ve got you. It’s over- Quackity’s gone. You’re safe now.” 

“Michael?” Dream’s voice is so damn small when his head twists to look over, hair having fallen largely fallen out of his ponytail to land in wisps all around his face. “You- how-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael shushes him, chest twisting painfully. “It’s alright.”

“...I don’t feel so good.”

Dream coughs harshly, and Michael quickly maneuvers him to a sitting position as his shoulders shake with another one, hand flying to his mouth as he is wracked with loud, wet-sounding coughs. Concern wells up in his throat, watching as Dream shakes with more coughing, nearly choking as he curls into himself, muscles tense. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls his hand back, and Michael gasps at the sight.

“Dream-”

There’s blood, and a lot of it - mixed with the saliva in his palm, shiny and stringy over the planes of his hand, dribbling past his lips and down his chin. His teeth are similarly stained red when his mouth opens slightly, stance wobbling before he collapses altogether against Michael’s body - Michael can barely hear himself shouting for a medic as Dream heaves a rattling, wet sounding breath into his shoulder. 

“Th’ts not g’d,” he mumbles, quiet, before going completely limp. 

---

When you first get strong enough to go to the Nether and collect blaze rods and brew potions for the first time, the first thing that gets beaten into your head forwards, backwards, left, right, and every way in between is that health and regen aren’t a replacement for actual recovery. Instant health pots are famous for their tendency to heal everything affected to the same degree - which is bad when you have a particularly deep injury, as it’ll often finish healing it near the surface while the injury persists underneath. Regen pots tend to be better at that front, but even they cannot completely fix a serious injury - the two can only act as a temporary, emergency fix for severe wounds, often being an invaluable resource to stop the worst of the bleeding and hold everything together for long enough to bring someone to proper medical attention. 

Unfortunately, when someone tries to use health pots and regens to completely bypass the time and rest needed for the body to properly heal itself and recover, what usually ends up happening is internal injuries - not completely healed by the potions alone - continue to be jostled and irritated, which can lead to further, worse, problems with internal bleeding and bones shifting out of place if they’ve been broken, which can then pierce through muscle and organ tissue - to be honest, Michael was never the best with all the medical stuff, and he’s half-sure that the horror stories he’s heard were exaggerated to beat it into his head never to be an idiot that thinks that potions can solve everything, but either way, he’s never tested his luck with the things.

Unfortunately, Dream doesn’t seem to have done the same, as the entire day’s worth of intense activity, between practices and MCC itself, were more than enough to fuck over the healing effects of whatever health potions he apparently downed before coming to the Championships. From what Michael has heard, it got a little harried after he was first brought into the hospital, but he’s apparently stabilized since - recovery will be slow, both physically and mentally, but at least he’s out of that damn prison to actually start on that path.

“Simply put, your teammate is a bit of an idiot,” Scott tells him when he finally catches him in the waiting room, hair fluffed up at the sides from where he’s evidently messed it up in Admin-related stress. “But he should be alright now, with proper medical attention and lots of rest - make sure to tell him to actually rest, will ya? No more parkouring for him - he can wait until after he’s out of the hospital to show us all how it’s done.” 

Michael laughs, relief settling into his chest, “Thanks, Scott.” He directs a playfully accusing look towards the other, a grin tugging at his lips, “but you know, he’s only my teammate because you made it that way. Kinda sounds like your own fault there..” 

“Oh, quiet, you.” Scott laughs- he looks stressed, and Michael feels a twinge of sympathy. The administrative side of things after his whole stunt at Dodgebolt, and then especially with what happened in the main lobby, must be an absolute nightmare. “Anyway, I need to go back - Admin meeting,” he shakes his head, already looking at his comm. “You should go see Dream, by the way. I think he’s awake.” 

“Thanks for everything, Scott.” 

Scott smiles at him, soft, sincere. “Go see your friend.” 

He disappears in a flash of white light, teleporting away, and Michael looks at the empty space where he stood for a few seconds before standing up out of his chair to move towards the door. He hesitates at it for a second, hand on the doorknob but not yet turning it to the side - it’s suddenly awkward, without the pressure of the competition at his back and the relentless questions of what he should do. He doesn’t even know if Dream knows what happened, or if he’ll be happy with him - for all he knows, Dream was the one who started the whole ‘don’t tell the Championships what happens in the server’ deal. His teeth catch on his lip as he stands, lost in thought, at the door.

Well. Here goes nothing. 

He eases the door open, getting a glimpse inside the room - it’s white, clean-looking, the smell of disinfectant heavy in the air. There’s a bed in the middle of the room, a chair on the side with his Championships clothing and what appears to be some sort of padded body armor laid over the cushions. Dream, as expected, is lying down in the bed, unmoving; for a second, Michael thinks he’s sleeping, before he suddenly twists his head over to look at him.

“Michael?” 

“Hey,” Michael smiles, moving into the room and closing the door behind him. For the first time today, Dream’s face isn’t masked, a glimpse of it visible behind him on the dresser by the bed. He blinks up at him owlishly, eyes wide and green, looking even bigger combined with the hollow planes of his cheeks, overlaid by pale, slightly raised scars. “How are you feeling, man?” 

“Um-” Dream tries to pull himself up, visibly struggling, and Michael rolls his eyes as he hurries over to help raise the back of the cot because you’re supposed to be resting, Dream, just let the fancy bed do its job, and settles back with an odd look on his face as Michael pulls over a chair. “Good? I think? I mean-” he flails his hands a bit, “this is weird. And I kind of hate this gown- but um. Yeah.” 

“That’s fair,” Michael laughs, and Dream huffs a small laugh out of his own, settling back into his pillow. He looks strangely small, with all the layers stripped away, frail and skinny against the sheets. His skin isn’t that same paper-white shade it had been when he collapsed in the middle of the fucking lobby, but it’s still pale enough to be vaguely worrying, especially combined with the IV and other wires hooked up to him. 

“Apparently, I’m dehydrated,” Dream drawls when he catches Michael staring at the IV, making a small, frustrated sound through his teeth as Michael turns to look at him, “figures, I guess, but still sucks. I hate needles.” 

“Ouch,” Michael winces in sympathy, “yeah, those don’t look that fun.” Dream smiles up at him, before his expression shutters, dulls, and he looks away, not meeting his eyes. The sight of it makes Michael frown, quiet, remembering the way he’d drawn back from them all over and over again throughout the day - that fear and trauma won’t go away in a day, but it hurts all that much more to see his face as panic flashes across it and he pulls back, gaze carefully detached. 

“Dream?” Michael moves closer, but is careful not to make contact, “you alright?”

“Hmm?” Dream directs another small, tight smile his way, strained at the corners as his eyes flick away to the floor once again, “yeah- I’m- I’m fine.” 

Michael sighs, but decides not to push it. “Have you done anything else here, yet?”

Dream shakes his head. “No- I think that someone’s going to bring food over soon, I’m not sure. Not really hungry,” he mutters, half to himself, and Michael tamps down the concern that wells up in protest, “But we’ll see, I guess.” 

“That’s good,” Michael nods, and Dream looks up at him, expression startlingly unsure. 

“Um- do you know?” He wrings his hands together, eyes darting across the room nervously before flicking over Michaels’ face, and Michael tries to make himself look as calm and comfortable as possible, “I mean- do you know what’s going on with- everyone?” 

Ah. Michael winces internally- he probably should’ve expected this question, but in the fallout of what happened in the lobby and Dream, you know, passing out in his arms, he ended up brushing off or ignoring a lot of the chaos that resulted. He wracks his head for snippets of information that he’d seen in his communicator and from visitors to the waiting room, including people that had been there with him that had been pulled for questioning and meetings, Tommy’s expletive-filled yelling from the lobby still ringing in his head. 

“Um- I think that they’ve got a team of moderators pulled up to investigate the server, figure out what’s been going on,” Michael ticks names off on his hands, mentally going through the list of people that he’s been given information on, “They have Quackity in custody, I think, for the moment- they’re still waiting for more information on what to do with him, but they’ve got a whole MCC lobby’s worth of witnesses that saw him assault you so far, if you plan on pressing charges and stuff- um- Sapnap got pulled for questioning, nothing too major right now, I think that they’re going through the other server members that were attending the Championships for the moment.” 

“Are they- putting them in jail?” Dream’s voice sounds slightly tinny despite his forced calm, arms crossed in front of him, and Michael shakes his head firmly. 

“No- legal stuff between servers is weird, and I think they’re holding off on anything like that for now. Quackity’s just there at the moment because of assault charges on the MCC server - stuff in the SMP is still technically outside of their jurisdiction.” Dream visibly relaxes, and Michael smiles thinly, “It’ll be rough for a few weeks as they collect evidence and figure out what to do, but for now, they’re just focusing on recovery - giving people medical attention if they need it, lining up therapists,” he laughs, quietly, “lots of therapists.”

Dream hums, looking away. The corners of his mouth fall, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes a shuddery sigh through his lips.

“I- never wanted it to get this bad,” he opens his eyes, looking down at his hands, lip slightly trembling, “I don’t- I don’t know where it all went wrong.” 

“Hey,” Michael slides closer, ducking to meet Dream’s eyes with a soft smile. “You’re not alone anymore, alright? You don’t have to fix it all by yourself. Focus on yourself, on recovering.” 

Dream hesitates, breath seeming caught in his throat, wide green eyes staring into Michael’s own, before ducking his head to look away with a slight nod. Michael leans back in his chair, watching as Dream turns to the side, curling in on himself slightly with a small wince, eyes fixed on the window.

“Didn’t think I was going to see the sun again,” Dream says after a while, gaze still trained behind the glass to where the sun is slowly setting, rays of sunlight streaming past the slits in the blinds and casting glowing stripes of honey-gold throughout the room and over Dream’s face. Michael feels something cold press against the back of his throat, the quiet admission making air stutter in his lungs at the image of Dream, alone, huddled in the middle of an obsidian box for months and months and months, never knowing if he’d see anything other than the same black walls for the rest of his life. 

“You’re not there, anymore. You’re safe now.” 

Dream doesn’t reply, continuing to look out the window silently, breathing slowly as he moves his hand through a sunbeam, watching the way it streams between his fingers and warms his skin, seeming mesmerized by its soft glow. 

“Michael?” Dream looks over, and Michael feels the air punched out of his lungs at the soft, disbelieving sincerity held within his expression, the fearful edges for once pulled back far enough for the light to catch the quiet, heartfelt appreciation gathered in the slight quirk of his lips and downward slope of his eyes. He looks away a second after, a band of light cutting across his face and landing over the bridge of his nose, smile still on his face, voice almost too quiet to make out. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Michael feels his own smile widen, looking out the window himself- it really is a beautiful sunset. “What are friends for?” 

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Dream SMP AU where everything is the same except it wasn’t the Disc War that was escalated, it was the Prank War between Fundy and Eret.

Someone saw this idea on Tumblr and all of us on Discord decided to go and put in our own twist through it. Now we made a role swap that is arguably more angsy then canon.

So, first things first. This is a role swap. Not a personality and power swap. Everyone more or less has the same powers and personalities. Tommy is still a gremlin child and Techno is still an orphan kicker. Dream still has the revival book and Jack still raised himself out of hell.

But, now we have Fundy having more attention given to him and Tommy being the one who is having brotherly neglect. So we have that happening.

Second. Not all characters are swapped and this is because some characters fit so well with their intended role that it is really hard to swap them with someone else. An example being Wilbur. He remains the same because angst reasons and because he is really hard to swap with anyone else.

Now then, here are the swaps so far:

Dream - Eret

Tommy - Fundy

Tubbo - Niki

Ranboo - Jack Manifold

Wilbur - Wilbur

Phil - Techno

Karl - Hannah 

Sapnap - Quackity 

George - Sam

Foolish - Skeppy 

Puffy - BBH 

Callahan - Ponk

With that, let’s get to it.

------------

Now, the prank war with Fundy and Eret. It was indeed escalated but overall it was still a good fun. Yeah some of the pranks were a bit much but overall it was still all in a good fun.

The Disc War was also fun and was more of younger siblings trying to go team up against the younger brother and it was also good fun.

Then the L’Manberg War happen and the original members all joined in. We got everyone in their war gear and stuff and DTeam + Punz are fighting against them. Final Control Room happens and then Dream takes a moment and looks around.

He just took someone’s life. He just permanently did that. And to a sixteen year old no less. A sixteen year old who he views as his own brother.

He...He doesn’t like to think about what would happen if he keeps going down this path.

So he goes and requests a meeting at the Community House with all of L’Manberg. And when they got there, he said that he’ll grant them their independence with no strings attached. They can be free.

(Wilbur: Why. You didn’t want to give us independence before. Why are you doing this now?

Dream: ...I don’t like who I’m becoming. Yeah it’s one country but what if I go escalate it? What if at some point, I go and decide that no one gets a say and that I’m the one in control? What if I decide that since I’m admin, I get to go and do whatever I want? That’s going to go lead to very disastrous things and more wars in the future. I don’t want that. So, I’m changing things. This seems like a good start.)

So L’Manberg got their independence and Eret still remains as a king. Things are looking great.

Soon Dream invited everyone on the server to Eret’s Coronation because well, A. It is a big deal and it should be public. And then B, it’s because of what he said afterwards.

(Dream: Eret, I now pronounce you king. You will have governmental power over the Greater SMP as well as power to go and check me whenever I do something. This means that if I want a war then it has to go through you. You are the one who ultimately makes that choice. I may be admin but you have more power over me.)

Things went downhill from there.

(More info on what’s featured below)

Featuring:

-Good brother Dream and him trying his best

-Tommy and Dream bonding

-Fundy and Niki bonding

-Eret having a shit ton of trauma from getting hunted down due to his eyes and soon deciding that he needs control when he became king and oh no

-George having sleep powers

-Jack dying before he got the invitation and now having the crippling fear of something bad happening to him because he went and cheated death

-Niki having presidential duties on her and still burning down the L’Mantree during Doomsday because honestly, she deserves it

-Tubbo just shutting down after Doomsday because of all the trauma that happened

-Eret becoming a villain akin to a corrupt politician

-Puffy and Foolish getting infected by the egg and now Dream has to go and fix that as well because oh god, that’s his family

-Sam just chilling with his Redstone with Ponk. He’s doing okay here and is providing shelter to those who need a break

-Sapnap causing arson and other crimes after everything

-Quackity just being alone and feeling like it’s Manberg all over again

-AND SO MUCH MORE ANGST

[zeta-in-de-walls]

Just reflecting on Tommy's character getting exiled again.

I don't know if it's still a popular sentiment but I wanted to clarify that L'Manburg and Tubbo were never the reason Tommy got exiled. All of L'Manburg was against the idea and only agreed because Dream was threatening them. It wasn't that they were corrupt - just the opposite - they weren't powerful enough to resist.

Nor did Tommy's actions make him responsible or deserving of it. While he did grief George's house, it was easily fixed and was not particularly worse than most griefs on the server that happen almost daily without consequences. 

Dream was the one who exiled Tommy. He's the one who suggested it, demanded it and then enforced it. When Tommy did return to the SMP with Drista, we saw that Punz was the one who would have killed Tommy for breaking the rules - Punz was Dream's guy, not L'Manburg's. 

Dream may sounds like a reasonable guy on the surface, dressing up the whole thing as how he would have recognised L'Manburg's autonomy if not for Tommy acting out. How he was compromising with a probation, how he pretended to be Tubbos friend after Tubbo did what he wanted. 

This was all false. A week before Tommy griefed George, Dream and Puffy griefed multiple people far worse than Tommy did and blamed Tommy for it all. If Tommy hadn't actually committed any crime, its likely Dream would have pinned something on him either way. A big deal was made out of Tommy being the Vice President but Dream would have been just as demanding if Tommy had been only a citizen. He blamed L'Manburg for stuff Tommy 'did' while in exile, having threatened to build the obsidian walls again! (And we saw how much less Dream cared when Quackity was committing war crimes as Vice President.) 

Do you think probation was a viable option? It wasn't. The rules were that if Tommy broke the rules again he'd have gotten exiled. And we know Dream was happy to blow up the Community house and blame Tommy for it. If they hadn't exiled Tommy then, they would have woken up to it, or something like it, destroyed. 

Think giving up the discs would work? No, it wouldn't have. The second Tubbo gave Dream mellohi, Dream decided to blow up L'Manburg with Technoblade. 

Dream was indeed pretending to be Tubbo's friend and never respected L'Manburg. It was all a rouse to get Tubbo to trust him so he could convince him to give up Tommy's music disc. He was actively trying to sow discord between the two friends. The second he had it, Dream went off and insulted Tubbo and everything he did and stood for. 

In the end there were practically no options for L'Manburg. There was Tommy's idea of fighting back, going around the server to ask people like Technoblade and the Badlands to support them and take on Dream. If they could defeat him then they'd be free. Even if it didn't work, at least they'd be defying Dream and not allowing him to divide them. Dream was going way too far so garnering support could have worked. This was dangerous though, L'Manburg was still weak from the War and getting support was a long-shot - they'd be putting their lives at risk.

 And there was Tubbo's approach. There was some misunderstandings between Tommy and Tubbo as Tommy read his unwillingness to fight as his not really caring for Tommy and wanting to appease Dream. In fact, Tubbo did care, he was trying to keep Tommy alive. Instead he planned to bide their time and appease Dream for the moment but secretly plan to get stronger and then challenge their enemies. They specifically planned to kill Dream at the festival. 

Don't get me wrong - there were definitely issues in L'Manburg. Tubbo ended up listening to Quackity and prioritising Techno over Dream because he had thought they'd satisfied Dream now that he'd agreed to recognise L'Manburg. Tommy thought Tubbo didn't care and was siding against him when he never stopped caring and was attempting a less hasty approach. He was taking things personally and wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. Additionally, Tubbo was expecting Dream to be more reasonable than he actually was, and perhaps didn't grasp just how much of a threat he posed to them.

But yeah, overall, L’Manburg was just trying to survive and everyone in it was trying to do their best for each other. Nothing about it was corrupt. It should have been a good place but for Dream’s plan to destroy it. Dream was never after justice or fairness, he wanted Tommy, and L’Manburg to suffer. He was the one who caused its fall. 

[strawberrylemonz]

Innit an Adventure

An addition to the AU, lol. Instead of chat being in his head, like Techno’s, Tommy’s chat are ghosts that follow him around :)

This one is dedicated to @ivorylin for being very supportive of my first post regarding this au. This is also dedicated to @petrichormeraki for being poggers and enjoying the first part of this series, as well as inspiring it.

Part 1

Part 2 [CURRENT]

Part 3

--------

“Brother!!! Pog!!!”

“Big brother returns!”

“HE CALLED HIM STARCHILD, I’M GONNA SOB”

“I just woke up, what’s happening?”

“GOODBYE SBI, HELLO HERMIT GRIAN”

”HERMIT HOMIES HOURS”

“HOLY SHIT, HE’S OUR BROTHER”

“I was getting a snack, what’s up?”

“DJLFKNGON I’M GOANNA   CRYSLK”

“BEST BROTHER EVER”

“I’m on the toilet, pog”

“I have tacos :)”

“BRGB SOBBING”

“GRIAN POGGGG”

“This makes me happy you didn’t do a double flip”

“ADIOS TECHNOBRO AND WILBRO, I ONLY KNOW BIG BRO G!!!”

“Anyone else have dust in their eyes?”

“CHAOS DUO RELATED POG”

Tommy let out a shaky breath as he rubbed his eyes. Chat was going crazy at the new news and, to be honest, he couldn’t blame them. If he was in their position, he’d be freaking out alongside them. Wanting to end both the silence that filled the cavern and the nonsense Chat was saying, Tommy let out a hoarse laugh before speaking.

“Chat really likes you, G.”

A smile formed on the teen’s face as his head bounced with the hefty laugh that came from Grian, whose chest began to rumble alongside the laughter. Finally lifting his head off his brother’s chest, Tommy allowed the remaining tears in his eyes to fall as he looked to Grian’s face. Grian smiled fondly back at Tommy, wiping away the tears from his little brother’s eyes. 

“I suppose I should say hello to all of them. Is Chat similar to Techno’s voices?”

Concern flashed across Grian’s face as Tommy flinched at the mention of Technoblade. It was small, and could have been easily overlooked if Grian wasn’t watching his brother like a hawk. He made a mental note to ask about that later that night, when they were around the campfire.

“Nah, he’s just insane. Psychotic or some shit like that. I’m just really fucking cool and can see spirits and shit.”

Eyebrows from the crowd (shit, they were still there, weren’t they?) and Grian were raised as someone Stress half heartedly scolded Tommy for his language. Tommy just rolled his eyes, knowing that they only scolded him as a joke. They had all grown accustomed to his wording, and were worried when he didn’t slip in a few curses into his sentences.

“Spirits?”

“Yeah, spirits. I call em Chat most of the time, but they have different nicknames, and they all have individual names. Clara explained that it was one of the many side effects to her marking me as a ‘Starchild’ in her name. They are the spirits of the lands, from servers all around, or some shit like that. I can see them all, but they make the choice to stick with me or not.”

This was...news. Grian, who was still processing that he his baby brother was alive, sitting right in front of him, as well as the fact that Clara was real, could only stare. He wasn’t so sure how to feel about his brother being indifferent to all the spirits, but he suppose that it couldn’t be helped. Spending pretty much your entire life seeing spirits would make him indifferent to the spirits as well. 

“So, Chat is...everywhere?”

“Basically, yeah”

Grian hummed as he proceeded to greet Chat, being polite to the beings he couldn’t see. Much to the annoyance of Tommy, Chat seemed to be loving Grian even more. Maybe a bit too much.

“HE’S SO POLITE”

“How thoughtful of him”

“HELOO HI GRI A  N HWAHT’S UP BRO”

“Grian bro supremacy”

“GRIAN BRO SUPREMACY”

“HERMIT HOMIE WOOOOOO”

“BEST BRO POG”

“holY SHIT I’M IN LOV E ADKNVOD”

“THE RACCOON HAS A POG BROTHER WOOO”

“HI GRIAN HI”

“Rodent brothers??? pog?????”

“HELLOHELLOHELLOHENSLO”

“TELL HIM WE SAID HI, CHILD”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down. Chat says hi, Grian. And, hey, I’m not a child, what the fuck!? I’m a big man!”

Impulse snickered as Mumbo walked over to the two brothers. Smiling down at them, he helped the two back to their feet. Grian smiled as he set a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly. Tommy, in turn, beamed with pride at his brother and his friends. 

“Alright, we spent enough time being emotional and shit. Let’s get going, I have more cool shit to show you guys.”

Laughter filled the cavern as Tommy fixed his hair, his booming man child I’m not a child voice being drowned out as he led them back outside. Slightly huffing. He let out a yelp as he was nearly tackled to the ground from behind. Letting out undignified noises of protest, he turned to see the smug smile of Grian, who was ruffling his hair. 

“Alright, big man, show us your land of paradise!”

Barking out a hearty laugh, Tommy ducked out from his brother’s hand before grabbing it, spinning a few times, and pulling him forward. 

“Aw, look at them!”

“Wait, so Grian has two sections now?”

------

The traditional booth games in Tavern Town were fun. From balloon darts to milk bottles, to ladder climb and hoop toss, Tommy thought of it all. Unique designs decorated each booth, all holding an individual and unique look. Everything about the area was impressive.

“Where did buy get these for the games? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them in the main server.”

Tommy peered over to Doc, who was inspecting the prizes neatly strung up on all the booths. There were plushies of different types of mods, some familiar, others not. They came in all types of colors and sizes, and were overall impressive. Walking up beside Doc, Tommy just shrugged his shoulders, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I didn’t buy them, I made them.”

Scar perked up, before jumping right into the conversation.

“You what? Toms, that’s impressive! I didn’t know you could sew.”

‘Fucking hell,’ Tommy thought to himself. He didn’t expect to get praise for his simple hobbies.

“Yeah, I sew. I’m actually pretty crafty, being resourceful and shit. I also knit and crochet. It’s not much, but it’s really fucking therapeutic and all that jazz.”

Before anyone else could comment, a dinging noise sounded at one of the booths. Turning to look at the cause of the commotion, they saw that Stress and Impulse had won a game together. Giving each other fist bumps, they watched as a screen popped up, giving them prize options to choose from. After receiving their prizes, they hurried over to Tommy with smiles painted on their faces.

“You bet we’re gonna win one of each plush here.”

A high pitched laughter erupted from Tommy, who was starting to enjoy his decision to hand make all the prizes in his park. Wiping away a tear of joy, the teen I’m eighteen, I’m a fucking man! You’re a child, Tommy beamed at his friends, who smiled warmly in return. Tommy’s joy seemed to increase as more booth alarms were set off, many more prizes coming off the shelves. By the time everyone was ready for the next land, they all had at least two plush toys each.

———

“This is delicious! You baked these?!”

The group was currently sitting in the seating area in the Dream SMP section of the park, more specifically, L’manburg. They had gotten pastries from the duplicate bakery that belonged to Niki. According to Tommy, it was an exact replica to the real thing. The pastries sold there were the same ones Niki sold back at L’manburg. Tommy had used the recipes and techniques that Niki had demistrated to both him and Tubbo to create the dishes.

“If you think these are good, you should taste Niki’s. I swear, her pastries were sent down from Heaven by Jesus himself. They taste fucking amazing, godly.”

Grian smiled as he nudged Tommy’s shoulder with his own. Popping another sweet cake in his mouth, Tommy quirked an eyebrow as he faced the older boy.

“You should teach me some of your hobbies, Starchild. We can do a hobby exchange.”

Tommy visibly brightened up as he wiped some frosting from around his mouth. Smiling, he nodded his head happily.

“Hell yeah! That sounds fuckin’ amazing!”

The group ate with content as they looked around their area. They had already seen the rest of the Dream server lands. 

“It’s amazing that you’ve made all of this by yourself. You haven’t even showed us the rest of the park yet! Good job, for a child.”

“Hey! I’m not a fucking child! I’m turning 19 soon!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you were an Aries.”

“What’s wrong with being an Aries?”

“Nothing is wrong with being an Aries, Tango.”

“Oh shut it, you Librarian.”

“Librarian?”

“Yeah, the worst sign.”

“First of all, kid, I’m a Gemini.”

------

The rides and games in the DSMP were very diverse and unique. Tommy had really put a lot of effort and time into every attraction, no matter how small. From things as small as a scavenger hunt through the Badlands, water themed adventures in El Rapids, to fast paced coasters in L’manburg.

“Scoot over, bandit child, I’m sharing this ride vehicle with you.”

“What the fuck, man?”

“Oh, don’t act surprised. I know you made it to where two people share a seat just so you can spend quality time with your brother.”

“Oh, fuck off, I didn’t even know you were my brother until an hour and a half ago.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The first ride the group decided to board was dubbed A Home. Entering a little shack, everyone boarded their ride vehicles and waited for the ride to begin. While they waited for the vehicles to move, Tommy explained how he managed to use the latest mods that were added to the server to his advantage. He managed to fit different tracks to different rides in the same builds, as well as add animatronics. Just as he was about to receive yet another wave of praise, the ride began.

“It’s like looking at a younger version of you!”

“That’s kinda the point, genius.”

Grian’s statement, as obvious as it was, was true. As the vehicles left the shack and entered the caravan, and animatronic Tommy, merely 16 years of age, welcomed the riders as they witnessed the beginning of a new home, L’manburg. They kept comments to themselves when they saw, yet again, the replica of Tommy’s old base. The ride track took them through different areas of the DSMP, following the young Tommy as he searched for a home.

“-the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit!!!”

“What?!”

“What does he mean revoked?!”

Before Tommy could reply, the vehicles lurched backwards, keeping the vehicles facing the stage at all times as the animatronics turned to take aim at the riders. It wasn’t until the red stone to the dirt entrance revealed the entry way to Pogtopia that the vehicles did a 180, moving forward into the entry way before going down the spiral steps into the ravine. Laughter filled the air as the group saw animatronics of Tommy, Wilbur and Techno conversing together, joking around and teasing each other. Suddenly, the ride vehicles fell down to the next part of the track, the prime path. As they raced through the tunnel, they witnessed an animatronic Tommy and Tubbo embracing and conversing, their cheerful voices free from worry. The group could only sit in awe as the scenes continued to change.

“-goodbye, Tommy.”

“What does he mean goodbye?!”

“Oh my fucking god, shut up!”

The vehicles suddenly raced through the Nether, coming out to an island far from DSMP. The sign at the entrance of the area welcomed the group to Logstedshire. There, they could see an unhappy Tommy staring out towards the ocean, listening to Chirp as he mumbled nonsense to Clara. And just as quickly as they came, they raced out of the sunny area and into the snow. They raced around the inside of Techno’s cottage before racing outside, towards an empty area. There, an animatronic Tommy yelled out in shock as an animatronic Technoblade pressed a button, turning around as a secret lair was revealed.

“Welcome home, Theseus!”

For the final time, the scene changed. They entered, backwards, into a portal, coming out to face a replica of the spawn to Hermitcraft. There, in wonderous glory, stood an animatronic Xisuma, welcoming the group to Hermitcraft. Then, the track dropped, leaving the riders back at the entrance to the ride.

“Holy shit.”

“Haha! Holy shit is right!”

———

The group quickly learned that Tommy spared no expense in all his attractions. As they explored the different lands, they really saw the individuality of every land. L’manburg had fun rides, including Nation’s Legacy, Blood’s Ballad, Wither’s Wrath, and Creator’s Cabin. Nation’s Legacy is an underground ride that worked like a turntable to tell the history of L’manburg, ending on a grim and looming hint to the possible destruction of the nation. When asked about the fate of L’manburg, Tommy admitted that he appeared in Hermitcraft before he could witness the possible doomsday, so he wasn’t entirely sure what had occured afterwards.

Blood’s Ballad is an interactive ride that used a special red stone technique. The ride vehicles could seat up eight passengers at a time, each using special gloves that allow them to interact with the special ride elements. The goal is to get the most points out of everyone in the ride vehicle. The ride took the group on a journey with Technoblade, the Blood God. The group racked up points training alongside him, as well as fighting all sorts of mobs. By the end of the ride, Tommy was sulking as Stress managed to gather the most points. Stress was enjoying the victory, smiling happily as “SUBSCRIBE TO TECHNOBLADE” boomed through the speakers. 

Wither’s Wrath was more of a small scale ride to enjoy. There were only three ride vehicles, each shaped like a wither and able to hold three riders. Each rider sat in a wither skull. Grian smiled as he pulled Mumbo and Tommy into a a wither vehicle with him. As they strapped in, they were transported to a virtual world where the rules of the game were shared. The goal was to cause the most destruction in the virtual world than the other vehicles. Each player controlled their own skull, making it easier to gather points. At least, that was the case for-

“Fuck yeah! Team Kickass all the way! Check it Grian, Mumbo, we’re badass!”

Creator’s Cabin was simple enough. It was just a large cabin that held enchanted portraits of everyone who resided in the DSMP. The portraits could move within their frames. They could also interact with each other. When the group walked in, the portraits were chatting away with each other. Sam’s portrait seemed to be listening in on the conversation that the portraits of Tubbo, Tommy and Purpled were having, occasionally joining in when he saw fit. Fundy was chatting away with Eret and Niki, a bright smile on his face. Ranboo was timidly peeking over at the group with Tommy and Tubbo, obviously wanting to join in. The portraits of Quackity, Sapnap and Karl were deep in conversation, while the portrait of George was asleep sitting up.

“Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are there two portraits of Wilbur?”

“Oh, right. Grian, about Wilbur-”

“AHOY THERE! WHY DON’CHA BOARD ME SHIP AND CONQUER THE WATERS WITH ME?”

The group, aside from Tommy, jumped at the booming voice. Without hesitation, they all ran out to the water, searching for the source of the voice. There, out on the water, stood a lone animatronic. It was the animatronic of a petite woman, one with red curls dancing around as she swayed and spoke. Once more, her confident, melodic voice filled the air. 

“JOIN ME ON MY QUEST TO RIDE THE WONDROUS WAVES OF THE SEAS”

With that, she raised her right arm, hoisting a sword into the air. On cue, she began to rise as a ship emerged from the sea below her. Once it was no longer submerged, the ship rocked a few times before settling. A banner unraveled and blew in the breeze, the name of the area now visible for all to see. 

Sally de Mon’s Sea Voyage

“You like it? Creating the entrance for this ride was a fucking bastard. Kept me up all night and crap. Almost gave up completely on it.”

“It’s amazing! I was not expecting to see something like that!

“Hey, Tommy? Who’s Sally. I don’t think it was ever explained how you know her?”

“Really? I gotta fix that, then. Sally is my sister-in-law who-”

“I HAVE A SISTER-IN-LAW?!”

“Oh, shit...surprise?”

------

The Badlands was a fun, interactive section of the DSMP area. The various puzzles and mazes made it fun for all the participants. The muffin stand was also a fan favorite to the hermits. 

El Rapids was a water-filled adventure. Because he wanted to play around with the word rapids, Tommy made several water-based rides and activities, his favorite being the log ride. They just seemed to be the perfect addition to the area, adding a way to cool down to balance all the water-free rides. It seemed as if Tommy had thought of every type of ride for every type of biome and scenario.

SMP Earth was another large section of the park. It also held the only other largest ride in the entire park, one that led the riders throughout the Antarctic Empire, as well as its surrounding cities and towns. The area for the empire was beautiful decorated in colors of all kind. Flowers and banners decorated the buildings and streets, brightening up the area. Classic activities, such as the sparing rings and archery, as well as the axe throws and parkour courses were set up. It all felt familiar to Grian, who couldn’t help but smile at his brother. Grabbing one of the fliers, he inspected it before shooting his brother a look of uncertainty.

“You didn’t”

“On the contrary, brother dearest, I did!”

“Did what? What did he do?”

Grian laughed as he showed the group what the flier said. It was decorated in beautiful, hand-drawn flowers. Golden lettering perfectly spelt out the message.

Floral Festival of Spring

Join us in the weeklong celebration of Spring! Enjoy the festivities with friends and family as you explore the traditions held within our grounds. Finally, enjoy the wondrous Floral Gala held on the final night of festivities. Dawn your greatest fabrics as you dance the night away, before enjoy a magnificent firework display.

Signed by his royal highness,

Prince Thomas Theseus Minecraft

“He used his full name and everything!”

“Your middle name is Theseus?”

“Your actual last name is Minecraft?”

“Did you actually write this? It’s worded and written so…formally.”

Huffing a bit, Tommy crossed his arms. Fixing his posture, he stood up, tall and proud, as he puffed out his chest. It took everyone every fiber in their bodies to not laugh at the sight of him.

“I can be very formal, thank you very much. I’m not a fucking idiot, I remember the formality lessons the teachers put me through. And I take the offense to that writing comment! Do you know how many attempts it took for me to be able to recreate the stupid fancy font used back at the empire? And another thing-”

Grian playfully hopped on Tommy’s shoulder, startling the younger brother to his usual stance. Ruffling his hair, he assured his brother with a laugh.

“Calm down, Toms. You know that we’re messing with you. You did amazingly. How many more flyers do you have? We’ll set them up in the Hub to be distributed across the main server. It’s been a while since I’ve attended a royal ball, so let’s make it grand!”

Laughing, Tommy had no choice but to agree with Grian. His smile faltered, however, once realization sunk in. The next activity for the group was the campfire. The secrets of his time at the Dream SMP that he kept for over 2 years would finally be revealed.

‘Better late than never to prepare the waterworks’, thought a very nervous Tommy.

[mcytvoid]

/rp

Thoughts on Dream and Wilbur? Do you think they will team up or not? But also, what do you want to happen? I want to hear everything. I am just so giddy.

/rp

Wilbur and Dream are an interesting duo. They’ve always had an unbalanced dynamic in different ways, Wilbur always had control of the narrative and Dream always had more power. They were very much enemies until Wilbur pledged himself to be Dream’s vassal.

Vassals give their loyalty and manpower to their lord in exchange for power. Dream gave Wilbur TNT and Wilbur upheld his part of the deal. We know they talked off screen, Wilbur told Dream where to put the 11 stacks of TNT. They might have been friends

Isn’t that a wonderfully terrible thought? Dream seems to like Wilbur, if that feeling is mutual they might team up. Wilbur knows/thinks that the creation of L’Manberg was a mistake. Wilbur likes having a cause, an ideal to fight for, it wouldn’t take much to convince him to join the “one big happy family” side.

What do I want to happen? I’m still bitter about season 1 L’Manberg, so I want Wilbur to admit to someone, anyone, at the very least to Dream, that L’Manberg wasn’t built on “freedom” and that Dream wasn’t a tyrant back then. Please. The Dream SMP likes to pretend that the L’Manberg side were always the the “good guys” instead of the protagonists.

I would really like a Dream and Wilbur team up. Possibly a Team Chaos plus Wilbur team up. It would be fun if Wilbur and Dream were the ones to help defeat the Eggpire, it would throw so many povs out of a black and white mindset (looking at you puffy) but I doubt it would happen and it would be odd narratively.

I want Dream’s character to go through villain decay. If Wilbur’s character is now so much worse than Dream, like Tommy said, I want people to realize that Dream isn’t the only source of conflict/violence. I want Wilbur to still be how he was or worse at the end of the Manberg War. No magical resurrection fix.

Overall it will be interesting seeing an antagonist that the majority of the audience likes

[sa-nddd]

Bestie Headcanons

being besties with the dream smp characters.

idk, I was looking through pintrest and saw a bunch of bestie pics, so I thought I'd write something 'bout it.

Dream

would totally be the kind to carry you everywhere.

just walks up to you, leans down and throws you over his shoulder.

"Where are we going, again?"

if you are wearing a skirt or dress, he would pick you up bridal style, making sure to be wary of the length of it.

this mf-

he would be a meanie.

but like, also a sweetie.

would steal your food, then offer you the rest of his meal.

if you need anything, he's got it.

cuddles. all day. every day. 25/8

man's just wants attention.

would force you to get into the cart to push you around the store.

Sapnap

definetly the type to wanna wear matching fits.

if he sees a shirt he likes, he gets one in your size, too.

When he's streaming, you are in the room or house.

If he's not, you two are at your place

not ashamed to ask for affection.

you guys go on drives and listen to different playlist depending on your moods.

you have eachothers passwords to everything.

he constantly posts from your account.

the fans love when he does.

he sometimes posts without knowing it's yours LMAO

you guys always make eachother playlists.

he probably forced you to start streaming with him.

if you aren't together, you are definitely on facetime.

he would let you paint his nails tbh.

George

He seems like he wouldn't be clingy, but i think otherwise.

Man's just has trouble trusting people.

He needs comfort, so you provide that for him.

his pets love you.

would be the type to buy something if it reminds him of you.

he's a bit of a introvert, so you guys stay home alot.

when he's streaming, you are either making a cameo in the background, or doing something around the house.

you just lay in his bed on your phone, or doing school work or something.

maybe fixing a shirt or sewing something.

chat always says hi to you.

then he got his green screen.

chat was upset that they couldn't see you, so he had to lower it to get you to wave from your spot on the bed.

chat was happy after.

Quackity

Alex definitely has you on his streams.

whether it be a short cameo or a bit he thought of, he likes your company.

on stream, he would be annoying, yelling for a CapriSun or something.

off stream, he's a sweetheart.

If you even mention something, he's bringing it to you.

You guys go shopping together.

You always steal his button ups. they low-key really comfy.

he constantly steals your phone.

you tease him alot, just like chat.

chat fucking loves you.

if he starts streaming and you haven't showed up, they are yelling at him.

Sometimes, you dress up to match Alex.

Like during his cooking stream, you randomly popped up in the middle of it wearing a nice black dress.

you guys play music together often.

you sing along to the songs he plays, and chat loves it.

they beg you to sing together every stream.

Karl

oh boy

this man, this man

fucking sweetheart all around.

always puts you first.

the type to physically perk up when your are with him.

when you walk in when he's streaming,

"Y/N!!!"

*tackles you*

"karl I saw you five minutes ago-"

"and?"

...

he's adorable. a smol puppy.

he's constantly clinging to you.

at the store? arms linked.

streaming? holding your hand.

no seriously, if you guys got in an argument you would sit with your backs together and pinkies linked.

he would probably drag you to his Mr. Beast things.

you are like his emotional support human :>

he also likes to match.

he makes you wear outfits he picked out to do insta photoshoots.

mirror pics. that's it. that's the post.

the fans love it.

another to let you paint his nails.

he shows chat when you do.

"LOOK CHAT!!!" *shows off his purple nails*

y'all use nicknames.

like, mine irl is nana, so I'ma use that one.

"Nana, can you tell dream to stop killing me?" *pouts*

"Of course, bubba." *proceeds to murder dream for fucking with karl*

Tommy

he is totally not clingy.

you can totally go hang out with other people.

it's not like he blows up your phone and whines when you do.

totally not

anyways

he's the kind to bully you, but it's somehow affectionate?

going by my height, you are short. 5'1 to be exact.

so obviously, he's gonna tease you about it

"You are so fucking short lmaooo fucking ant"

*cue you kicking his ankles*

"WHAT THE FUCK Y/N"

he's actually very different off camera.

he's a lot quieter, and he is very passionate.

he likes to give you hugs.

hugs you at least 40 times a day.

I don't make the rules :)

Tubbo

chaotic asf

cuddly asf

and overall just a bundle of sunshine.

he be the kind to learn different things to do them for you.

he watched a bunch of videos to learn how to braid your hair.

he's a professional now.

he also learned how to paint nails, do makeup, and straighten hair.

he is full of surprises.

you two have a modded server with a bunch of his streamer friends, but it's not public info.

You were the one who introduced him to ukulele and the keyboard.

you have the friendship where you do everything together.

if one of you wants to try something, the other will, too.

Ranboo

you guys' humor? immaculate.

the type of friends who are akward with everyone BUT eachother.

you guys can be so awkward, but that all goes put the window when you are together.

you go on random trips to Walmart just to run around the toy isle.

you guys take turns pushing the basket and being in it.

basically yin and yang.

you are the more out going person, and he's more self reserved.

Your parents are so used to you guys being together, that they don't question when one of you comes over anymore.

your texts are so fucking chaotic

no one can understand them but you two.

you guys are the type to make up a secret code LMAO

he got his fashion sense from you.

Wilbur

your friendship is iconic.

the type of friends that would most likely end up in jail together KEKW

everyone is envy of you two.

he taught you how to sing and play guitar.

you do vocals for his songs sometimes.

You go ghost hunting together often

you have so many aesthetically pleasing polaroids of eachother.

Chat loves when you appear on his streams.

you are constantly checking oh his mental health, because knowing your best friend was hurting badly at one point hurts you.

just the thought that he was in so much pain at one point makes you physically ill.

He worries for you, too.

He knows what it feels like, and he doesn't want you to go through that.

you guys support eachother so much it's wholesome

when he does singing streams, he sometimes drags you to sing with him.

you guys cry together sometimes, and it is honestly refreshing.

over all very chaotic and emotional.

Niki

besties.

people wish they had your friendship.

you both can't stick to one aesthetic LMAO

you share clothes and things alot.

she loves having you on her streams, her chat does aswell.

you take alot of pictures together.

you both do alot of wholesome things, like bake and plant.

you are eachother's hype women.

she's taller than you, so her clothes are more baggy.

which you love, it's apart of your main aesthetic.

you have a ton of sleepovers.

you paint eachother's nails often.

you love her hugs, they are so warm and comforting.

you make sure she's happy, and she does the same to you.

you both speak in german alot, and if you didn't know it, she taught you it.

very wholesome and cute. 10/10 recommend.

[gogtopia]

after doomsday (~1.3k)

time traveller!Karl returns to the time he belongs in and is faced with the ruins of L’Manberg, having not been here since the day before the festival. (ft some karlnapity)

NOTE: this work takes place within the dream smp roleplay. i do not ship/write fic about the actual creators, only the characters they play

Karl’s breath returned to him all at once as he popped back into the correct place in time, book clutched to his chest. He still hadn’t been able to get used to this time travel thing super well and had been popping into the wrong time over and over. But he had gotten it right this time; he was sitting in Church Prime, after all.

He went to head home, back to L’Manberg, and he lost his breath all over again. Because what laid before him was not the home that he’d left behind. It wasn’t much of anything at all other than a seemingly bottomless pit with ash still floating in the wind. The obsidian structures in the sky painted a sinister picture. Whatever happened here, it wasn’t some random accident. It was an intentional attack on his home.

How long had he been gone? The last thing he remembered before traveling through time was working with Ranboo to fix up the country for the upcoming festival, an event designated to celebrate L’Manberg as a nation. When had all of that fallen apart?

Who had fallen with it?

Karl wasn’t sure exactly where to go at first. He didn’t know who would be left standing if anyone was at all. Maybe they’d be gathered back at Eret’s castle. But, then again, if L’Manberg had fallen victim to an attack like this, the Dream SMP as a nation was probably the most likely culprit. He didn’t want to walk directly into his own execution. He didn’t think that Eret would be so cruel but, given what had become of his home, he wasn’t sure what to think.

He made his way toward El Rapids instead. His other home, though they had never really gotten very far in building it. Sparing one more glance back to the crater where L’Manberg once stood, Karl smiled half-heartedly. At least, after all of this, his Pokimane statue still stood.

As he passed through Boomerville, he was astounded at how many things seemed the same. It was like L’Manberg had been wiped off the map and everything else had simply remained frozen in time. Had he somehow fucked up time with the book?

“Karl!” a voice called out.

He turned to see Lazar peeking his head out of his home. He looked old, but that wasn’t really unusual. The fact that he was alive at all was a good sign.

“What the honk happened?” he asked him.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he replied with a shrug. “Vikk and I were out on a mining trip for two days and we come back and a whole bloody country is gone. I think H was there but he’s passed out in his place right now. Must have been some festival, I guess.”

Two days. That meant that he wasn’t so far off in time that everybody was gone. Unless… No. He didn’t want to think about that.

“Where is everybody?” he asked Lazar.

“No fucking clue,” he replied. “We didn’t get back that long ago. I assume they’re taking shelter in other places in the server or are off building places in the wilderness. I thought you’d know. Where have you been?”

He thought about the book in his hand and how the pages had been slowly filling. “It’s really hard to explain. But I think that I should go.”

Lazar followed his glance toward El Rapids. “Yeah, go on, mate. If nobody’s around, you’re free to sleep on my floor or something. Just don’t steal any more of my shit.”

“Thanks,” he said with an absent nod before continuing toward El Rapids.

For all that they’d done to secure the validity of El Rapids, it wasn’t much. It was a pretty small plot of land, though they claimed a few other spots to be part of the country proper, and only really consisted of two buildings: the pyramid and a smaller building that he still wasn’t sure the purpose of.

“Hello!” he called out absently as he got closer, hoping for a response and not expecting one at the same.

“Karl?” came Quackity’s voice in response and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“We’re in the pyramid,” Sapnap added.

They were here. They were safe, and they were here.

He ran into the pyramid, dodging the creepers and spiders that always seemed to reside inside, and made his way into the small redstone room in the center of it, where he found his fiances sitting together on the ground, covered in ash as they patched each other up.

Sapnap was scratched up but looked pretty okay overall. Quackity, however, didn’t seem to be doing as well, with bandages all over and haphazard stitches that were probably done by Sapnap on his forehead. He wasn’t in good shape and would probably have to pay Ponk a visit to get patched up in the morning, but there didn’t appear to be any immediate danger to his health.

He felt like an asshole, standing there without a scratch on him as the men he loved had clearly fought very hard in the past two days.

“Where were you?” Quackity asked and Karl braced for the impact of his yelling for missing out on whatever had happened.

“Were you safe?” he asked instead.

His shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, I was safe.”

“Wherever you were, you missed a lot,” Sapnap told him.

“George fucking missed it too,” Quackity complained. “We come back to Sapnap’s base for supplies afterward and he’s fucking sleeping. At least he didn’t get hurt, though. We came back here after so that you’d be able to find us.”

“Did something happen at the festival?” he asked.

Sapnap and Quackity shared a resigned glance.

“Look, L’Manberg is gone, that much is over. And as far as I know, everyone made it out,” Quackity told him. “I know what I think we should do going forward, even if everyone seems to have a different idea about how to approach it. Either way, the ash is still settling and for tonight, we can take a goddamn break.” “And what’ll we do tomorrow?”

“I have no fucking clue,” Quackity said with a shrug. “Regroup, I guess. All I know is that, in the end, we can’t let Dream continue doing this shit. We have to take him down.”

Karl turned his gaze to Sapnap, who he expected to push back against this point of view, even after everything that had happened between him and his friend.

But instead, a fire burned in his eyes. “He needs to know that he’s not invincible. The Dream that destroyed L’Manberg isn’t the guy I became best friends with ages ago or, fuck, maybe he was and I never saw it before. I’m not going to let the entire server suffer just because he used to care about me.”

“And what about George?”

Quackity let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. “George doesn’t give a shit about anything. He won’t fight for us, not about the serious stuff. But, at this point, he’s not about to fight for Dream either. I think I speak for the group when I say that we have his back, no matter what, but I don’t know if he has ours.”

“I think, if it came down to a choice between us and Dream, George would choose us,” Sapnap said quietly. “Dream hurt him too. But if he doesn’t want to fight, let’s not force him into the fray.”

“You’ll fight with us, right Karl?” Quackity asked.

And, well, Karl was never much of a fighter in any shape or form. He lacked the physical skill and training that Sapnap did and didn’t have a scrap of the political talent that Quackity was able to weaponize. In the end, Karl was just a guy, but he was a guy that knew who he cared about.

“I will,” he promised.

“So, are you gonna tell us what that book is about?” Quackity asked.

He smiled brightly. “Would it be okay if I told the two of you a story?”

The tension in the air dissipated ever so slightly as his fiances looked at him with soft smiles of adoration.

“Of course, Karl,” Sapnap said. “Tell us a story.”

[siriannatan]

Beeduo Oneshots #3 Unexpected reunion

Ao3 link to the whole series

Disclaimer: All physical displays of affection are meant in a purely platonic way, and I, the author, take no responsibility for how some people may see it. The characters in the stories aren't meant to represent the content creators, just characters they portray in their roleplay. 

 _____________________________________________________________

Doomsday shook the whole SMP. Dream going to prison didn't help much.

On his end, Ranboo was happy with where he was, as long as he wasn't being evicted that is, but he was good at keeping out of people's business so he was safe. He spends most of his time away anyway, lonely long mining trips and treasure hunts were slowly becoming his favourite activities. When he wasn't waking up in random spots. Aside from that, he was okay being alone. Ranboo wasn't lonely.

On the other end, Tubbo was also okay. Being away from people, alone in Snowchester, as he named the frozen patch of land he decided to live on, was good for him he told himself. He had all the freedom to practice magic and alchemy... All on his lonely own... Back in the day, Dream would visit to see his experiments and compliment him on his good work... He just missed old days, not Dream and his scheming. Tubbo wasn't lonely.

On some level, they both knew they were missing something. They were just unsure what...

Usually, Tubbo would stay in reading some old book in long gone language, making his skeleton's bring him food or fiddle with alchemical formulas or spells. Anyone would want a bit of a break from time to time, so on one a bit less cold day, just after a snowstorm he put on a heavy coat, heavy shoes and went out for a walk.

Ranboo wasn't a fan of his sleepwalking habits, especially when his sleepwalking would deposit him in the middle of snowy nowhere, snowy nowhere that wasn't anywhere near home. At least that was what he thought until he saw smoke in the distance. With that little ray of hope in a slowly dying down snowstorm, he forced his legs to move forwards. Even if he was a bit more okay with cold than most as a part enderman, extended stay outside in the cold still wasn't a good idea. How long was he walking? Was the world always spinning that much? Was the ground always this clo...

Out of all people he used to know Tubbo didn't expect to see Ranboo passed out in the snow barely outside of his land. Alone. Didn't he live with Technoblade and Philza now? Crouching down he poked the enderman hybrid. "You okay man?"

No answer.

With a heavy sigh and a glare to the side, he took control of a couple of skeletons hiding among nearby foliage, probably since the storm and commanded them to carry Ranboo for him. There was no way he could carry him, he was too tall and lanky. There was no urgency in Tubbo's return. Ranboo would be okay, he knew what he was capable of better than anyone, he was usually fixing him for Dream back in the day after all, despite Dream being better at healing magic. It was rather funny how their magic was so opposite. Dream with healing and Tubbo with necromancy. Dream always explained it with healing magic not working well on endermen, and it wasn't like Tubbo was using magic, just heavily advanced, mostly forgotten alchemy he picked up out of boredom.

At home Tubbo went right to work, sending all skeleton's away as soon as his guest was safely tucked away into only bed in the small house. With how tall Ranboo was it was rather hard and looked very funny with how much of his legs were out of the bed. He didn't need Ranboo freaking out right after waking up.

With them alone, he got to work mixing a very familiar formula he didn't do in a while, a specialised ointment for endermen water burns. Even though it sounded easy to make it was a while since he had to make something on that scale so he didn't mind. It was fun to stretch his abilities from time to time.

When Ranboo woke up he was warm and he could hear a familiar low humming. "Tubbo?" he muttered trying to sit up, It was indeed Tubbo who was humming, in simple overalls and a thick yellow sweater, fiddling with alchemical stands. "Your horns got big," he noticed before a jolt of pain forced him to hive upon sitting up.

"No moving for you big guy," Tubbo said turning around, left side first so his good eye could see his guest properly. "You were pretty messed up when I found you."

Ranboo just smiled weakly. He missed Tubbo, more than he realised. "Tommy said you died. He told us Dream got you."

"Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, either way, it was an out from all the conflict." Tubbo said walking closer and passed him a small bowl with some sparkling ointment, "put this on your water burns, should make it better faster than regen potions. You hungry?"

"Yes?" Ranboo wasn't sure what to answer after that.

Tubbo's cottage was nice, not big but Ranboo was used to small spaces living with Techno and Philza. He was sure they made interiors cramped for defensive purposes, it wasn't like they lacked space to build bigger. Soon Tubbo was back with two steaming bowls of some sort of soup.

"But why hide? I'm pretty sure no one would bother you all that much," he asked with a nod of a thank you...

"I didn't like the idea of hiding my horns forever, and who knows how people would react... Everyone saw that Dream has horns and instantly started drawing connections to Schlatt and... I don't need to be involved in that, prison doesn't sound fun."

Ranboo could agree with that. He saw the prison a couple of times and it wasn't a good look, he'd rather didn't need one. Techno and Phil didn't seem to care much. "Yeah... So, Dream also has horns... is that a..."

"Older, he's my older brother. I'm pretty sure he's the only reason I'm still alive because Schlatt shouldn't be trusted with a pair of old socks, not to say a child," Tubbo said looking at the sun setting over the cold bay.

That was a good reason to avoid people. Ranboo knew from previous talks with Tubbo that the glamour he used to hide his horns took a lot of energy to keep up if he didn't want anyone bumping into invisible horns. With both Dream and Schlatt's reputations, nothing would keep people from being weird about Tubbo's family tree. People tended to be weird to him about Techno and Phil and he was just living with them, and they weren't as hated as Dream.

"So you hid amongst snow like Technoblade?"

"It worked until Philza left his compass outside his ender chest. And I probably should add that I can do some necromancy."

"Necromancy? Like raise and control undead?"

"Yeah, that's how I brought you here. Even more reason for people to lock me with Dream," Tubbo shrugged. Ranboo just nodded turning his full attention to his bowl. He was going to die. There was no way Tubbo was letting him go with all that knowledge. He was either going to die or be locked here to keep Tubbo company, undead couldn't be good company.

Ranboo didn't die. He and Tubbo had a lovely evening catching up on what happened since Tubbo 'died', he seemed satisfied hearing he's got a monument dedicated to him and a proper funeral. "Wilbur never got a funeral, maybe Phil did something but I don't know."

"He's got a picture of him in his house but that's all I know. He doesn't like talking about Wil."

"I get it. We should probably figure out sleeping arrangements, I don't get many guests here. Only Foolish ever visits me, to bring some supplies and check if I'm still alive and not undead. He's my cousin actually, through Puffy adopting him."

"Wha? Isn't he like a millions of years old god?"

"Puffy's crazy like this. She sees a sad god in conflict with himself after aeons of destroying and adopt him as her son, unfortunately, Schlatt was good at avoiding his sister so Dream and I had to take care of ourselves. Now, where will we be putting you to sleep..."

Ranboo looked at his hands. Could Tubbo know about the possible connection between him and Dream? How closely was he working with Dream during his presidency? Was Tommy's exile really for the good of L'Manburg? How much of that argument in the blown-up community house was honest and how much was acting?

"I know what you're thinking. Did I exile Tommy because of family relations or because I thought it was a good choice for Manburg, and all the other times I had to confront Dream," Tubbo broke him out of his thoughts "I haven't spoken to Dream as my brother, I was angry at him for a lot of that time, ever since... Schlatts presidency was coddling me and trying to push me to stay away from it all. We had our first decent conversation the evening before the final battle, he proposed this whole fake death thing and at that point, I was okay with that 'we'll make them think we're dead and move far from the server, leave looking after every one to XD...', I was looking forward to it you know. Just me and my brother like in the old days, he didn't think the whole server would show up" Ranboo was sure Tubbbo was about to start crying. He had no idea what to do, he saw Tubbo cry a few times during his presidency but it wasn't this direct, he was usually trying to be a tough Mr President people could depend on. Vwoop Awkwardly Ranbbo dragged his friend closer into a hug. He had no idea why, it was an instinct of some sort. To hug Tubbo and let him cry until he's done. Neither of them mentioned the soft purr-like sound Ranboo started making. It was something along cat purring and a much calmer angry enderman noises. "Sorry," Tubbo muttered between soft sobs. Ranboo just purred more and dragged Tubbo to sit on the bed. Soon they both unknowingly fell asleep. Tubbo crying about what could have been and Ranboo purring softly, purple creeping into the edges of his vision.

Just as Ranboo was falling asleep he could swear he heard Dream somewhere in his mind. 'Take care of him for me, beastie.' followed by a slow humming of a lullaby, both familiar and alien to him (A/N: check Ranboo's Lullaby by Hator).

Ranboo got woken up by the sun right into his lidless eyes. Tubbo was still sleeping so he let him be...

"Morning hot stuff," Tubbo muttered from somewhere around Ranboo's chest "We should probably get up and bring you back to Techno and Philza before they notice you're gone," he added with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"I tend to disappear for long periods of time so I think we have some time, you better?" he asked as Tubbo began attempting to get himself out of the cocoon Ranboo became overnight.

"How often does your communicator ping on those days? Every hour?" Tubbo asked pointing to the thing which, as to give his point some weight pinged at that exact moment.

"Should have written to Phil last evening," Ranboo muttered letting Tubbo go, and just as Tubbo went to the other room to start breakfast did he look at his communicator. Fifty messages from Phil and five from Technoblade, all along the lines of 'where are you?' and 'you good, mate?' With a small smile Ranboo replied:

"I'm okay, communicator died for a while on me. Be back home by evening or tomorrow depending on the weather."

"I think we'll have to get me back to Anarchy Town soon, Phil's freaking out," Ranboo said as Tubbo came back with two steaming cups of tea.

"That's too bad, I was hoping to keep you for a bit longer," he was trying to joke but it was obvious he wasn't.

"I can come by from time to time," Ranboo offered with a meek smile, "as long as no one follows me here we should be okay."

"That would be nice, skeleton's aren't very talkative..."

"Whatever you say handsome," Ranboo said smugly,  remembering how Tubbo addressed him earlier.

"You better not be hitting on me, mister," Tubbo feigned being offended as a skeleton brought two identical plates of breakfast with beans, bread, egg, ham and tomatoes. Ranboo looked at Tubbo in distress over the amount of different food on his plate.

"You started flirting first," Ranboo said seeing no sympathy for his weak, brought up on potatoes self.

For a moment they were quiet until Tubbo couldn't stand it anymore. "I'll need more beds if that's the case, and don't bring last night up, that was..."

"That was last night and that's it?" Ranboo proposed with a pretend glare at his food, it was good but he'd never admit it.

"Yes, at least that's something to do. How far do you think your place is from here? You're with Techno and Phil, right? They're also in some snowy hellhole so it can't be all that far, right?" Tubbo agreed.

After a quick check-up with Philza, it was about half a day way in good weather so Tubbo gave Ranboo a lovely tour of Snowchester as he called his one-man colony, and they set out on the long trek to the Anarchy Commune. When the roof of Techno's house could be seen in the distance Tubbo and two skeleton's he dragged with them along the way. "I guess I'll leave you here." As much as they had fun on the way this was suddenly very awkward. "And I'll see you sometime, handsome."

Ranboo laughed awkwardly at the compliment, "I... are you tactically flirting with me?"

"No, I'm going home. So bye, remember to write to me or I'll send an army of skeletons to drag you back or whatever." Tubbo said turning around as not to show how distressed he was.

"Oh, I will call you so you better answer when I do." All seriousness of the statement was lost as both of them burst out laughing.

[fl0ating-tree]

Favorite to least favorite c!'s on the dream smp GO! (Them as character's objectively, not their actions, if that makes sense!)

anon kiss me rn this is a perfect excuse to ramble about my opinions and boy do i have opinions.... totally up for rebuttles to these or ppl trying to change my opinions on it i am a literary analysis bitch at heart

hate - technoblade, ranboo (there will be a bounty on my head for this one LOL)

dislike - niki, foolish, punz

don't love or hate - dream, phil, sam, puffy

like - sapnap (i WILL go further into detail for this one if someone wants), jack, tubbo, tommy, fundy

love - wilbur, ghostbur, eret, quackity, schlatt

hate is a strong word but it was used for the sake of the scale lol. but i REALLY dislike techno and ranboo's characters for the same reason of the fact that they feel very mary sue.

techno feels mary sue to me cause just like...nothing bad ever happens to him. i think 90% of my issue with his character would be fixed if he had died as his execution. that entire thing felt so stagnated. the day before dream is like "hey i think youre gonna get executed. heres how to not let that happen." and then the stream after that was "hey im getting executed. thats not gonna happen." like...it was just so unsatisfying because there wasn't a single moment i was concerned for techno considering i watched him get totems the day before and watched him hold one during his execution. he's stuck in the prison but from the way cc!techno was acting it feels like techno doesn't even CARE that he's there, and he has a contingency plan with the syndicate anyways. i didn't even feel bad that he got pulled out of retirement considering it was revealed he was collecting weapons of mass destruction the entire time. the only time i have EVER like his character was early pogtopia when everyone was always like "techno refuses to roleplay" AFSDKFSKG

ranboo feels like a mary sue to me because it's literally just one bad thing happening to him after another without any rhyme or reason. oh no his tears burn him and he has memory loss and he's scared he's doing bad things (did the whole "ranboo secretly has the cat disc" every get brought up again?) and he hears voices. his husband and best friend are moral enemies with his roomies but none of them seem to have an issue with that? just like.....his entire character is internal conflict and everyone loves him. not a fan.

dislike character all boil down to the same thing as well in that i feel like i would LOVE these character if they were executed better.

niki's going from wanting to protect tommy in pogtopia to the next thing i remember of her is her blaming tommy for her trauma. and her villain arc being INCREDIBLY serious but then a joke? niki as a character has a lot of potential but it all just isnt executed well imo, which is why i dislike the character.

foolish being a fun idea but the whole "totem god" thing just falls flat with me.

punz had SO much potential to do something really cool character-wise after the disc finale, but i think that boils down to cc!punz not being a big roleplayer/minecraft streamer, so it makes sense but still feels a little bit like a let down.

for the idc category it's honestly just that personally their character doesn't retain my interest. not that i think there's any major flaw with their character, just not something i care about.

dream i legit just...don't have thoughts about. cool character, but nothing stands out, and he feels a little flip-floppy sometimes. couldn't care less that he's being tortured so i feel like that's a sign that something isn't working right with that plotline.

phil and sam i think i would love their characters if they were exclusivly side characters but with the nature of streaming as the medium for the story there has to be a bit more substance to their characters but i genuinely think i would've liked them if it was just "the warden" and "wilbur's father" rather than their own individual characters. cool characters regardless, just not my personal faves.

puffy i might just not watch her enough but its similar to phil and sam where i think having her just be a therapist wouldve worked better than a fleshed out character. if more puffychu development happens tho, both her and niki will probably rise on this list.

the like characters range from "i think these characters have flaws objectively, but overall are very good!" to just....i am nostalgic for the pet wars.

sapnap i don't have a good reason for liking his character LOL it's mainly because i started watching during the height of the pet wars and i loved watching him during that. but i still just think the concept of his character is so cool and if he did more lore and specifically more stuff with dream, i can see him easily becoming a favorite character of mine.

jack, tubbo, and tommy i think are all very well fleshed out and executed characters. they have goals, flaws, relationships, and all three of the CCs are good actors i feel too. jack REALLY wow'd me over with his manifold hotel arc thing. tommy i think works well as a character because objectively he's kind of a prick but i still want him to win, and i think that's a sign of a well written character.

fundy again is similar to sapnap in that i loved him in the pet wars, but also he has the strongest relationships on the server imo. phil and wilbur stand out the most, but also with the OG l'manbergians and how his relationship with all of them are strained for no apparent reason in this awful "i've grown as a person and can't love you any more" kind of way.

i will fight tooth and nail over the fact that these characters are some of the most well-written and acted on the server genuinely. ESPECIALLY eret. i am a c!eret stan before all else.

ghostbur and eret i absolutely adore because of just how quietly tragic they are. a ghost damned to haunt his failures, and a king damned to try and repent. really REALLY well executed characters, and i pray every day that eret gets the kind of views tommy and wilbur's lore streams do because she is an amazing actor. they are both so tragically well written and executed amazingly, both are great examples of "show not tell" too. ghostbur with the amneisa and eret with their museum and abandoned castle. (only critic for eret is that i wish he stayed dethroned and george stayed king, but i think that was CC error not C error because if i remember right geroge said he wanted out of the lore. tho i think he could've stayed king and still not been involved in lore, but i digress)

wilbur and quackity are all incredibly thought out. you can see a start and a middle, and you can see that there's an ending. i feel like the biggest issue i have with tommy and tubbo is that there just doesn't seem to be an ending for their characters. with wilbur and quackity i can see an ending happening for them. they've got flaws, pros, goals, motivations, ideas. just AMAZING execution and it's cool to see how they're both so well written yet they execute their characters differently. wilbur with very casually imbedded lore that you only realize was lore and foreshadowing until it's too late, and quackity with very in-your-face produced lore streams that make you sit for an hour afterwards and wonder what happened.

schlatt is a good character because of cc!schlatt's AMAZING acting and also because he didn't try to make it some grand thing. schlatt was an alcoholic who abused his workers and was power hungry. he had his goal, and that was it, and cc!schlatt executed that perfectly.

[hayden-thefuck-whywouldyoudothis]

Hello everyone! This post is a little bit different from my usual posts. If you‘ve seen some of my posts, the majority are Dream SMP related, but today I have a story to share.

This week is my spring break. If you didn‘t know, CPS has one of the latest spring breaks in the country. We are visiting Tennessee for our break, and today we went to DollyWood in Pigeon Forge. If you don’t know what DollyWood is, it is a theme park in the the town where famous country singer Dolly Parton grew up. Before you say that we shouldn’t be visiting a theme park during a pandemic, I completely understand that, and me and my family would never have gone if we weren’t being completely safe. We took all necessary precautions to be able to take this trip and have a break.

So we arrived at DollyWood today, and we decided to fo wait in line for a ride. We ended up not going on the ride at the time when the ride broke down and had to be closed for a quick fix(we ended up going on that ride later)

So instead we went to a different area of the park, where we got in line for a different ride. While we were waiting in line, I was listening to the conversations around me, because I didnt want to talk to my family at that moment. I was listening, and overheard the group in front of us talking. The adult of the group asked all the kids if they were virtual or in person schooling . This conversation then moved to the fact that there was a trans student at their school. The kids in the group said that if they added or changed the bathrooms to accommodate trans students they were staying virtual. The adult said that they trans student in question was making a huge problem out of something that wasn’t important. They were overall very rude about the fact that there was a trans student and made no effort to keep quiet about their conversation. Overhearing this conversation made me so very unhappy, when amusement parks are supposed to be a place of joy and memories. If you don’t know, I use all pronouns and identify as gender non-conforming. I am ace/aro as well. I am part of the LGBTQ+ community. Coming to visit Tennessee, I knew that it was more than likely that I would hear my community slandered for being who we are, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when it happened. A lot of people in the LGBTQ+ community make the joke about being illegal in over 74 countries, and I am one of them. I am very much against going somewhere we’re I will not be respected for who I am. I don’t want to visit Poland, even though it’s where my mom is from. And I know a lot of people feel the same. I won’t want to visit somewhere I know I won’t feel safe for being who I am, even though no one knows.

There is a bright side to this story, I promise. A little after we had lunch, we were walking through a different area of the park. We decided to stop and get some ice cream as a little bit of a dessert. We sat down in a dining pavilion right near a food stand. While I was sitting and eating my ice cream two people walked past wearing rainbow masks. I watched them a little bit, and I saw them start to hold hands. I in no way mean to assume gender identity when I say that this was two men. And it just made me so happy to see a (presumably) gay couple in a place where I could /see/ religion and homophobia rolling off of people in waves. And they were proud of it too. No shame in being who they were. The point of me telling this story was to share something that made me incredibly happy after overhearing something that made me feel bad for the person they were talking about, for having to go through the blatant transphobia that was evident in these people who had no problem with down talking someone who had to go through the trouble of fighting for a basic human right because of who they are.

The other point of sharing this was to show someone who needs to hear it that things can get better. Not everything will. But a lot of things do. You will become who you want to be in the future, and you will show everyone just how strong you are to have gone through what you have gone through to get to the point you are at. Because everybody’s story is different. Let’s hear them all.

Before I’m done, I want to remind everyone that reads this to have something to eat, drink some water, take your meds, have a shower, and have a nap or go to sleep, wake up and do something that will make you happy. I want you to take care of yourself. Put on some music and just take a break from reality.

Do it for me, for your family and friends who want to see you thrive, and do it for yourself.

Today is a feel-good day.

I love you all so much.

You are valid, please remember that.

Love you, Hayden :)