#sleepy bois inc x reader

[modelbus]

MODEL HELP-

i just typed a long ass message and it all deleted itself-

question, do you think you want to do another part on cut chaos? No pressure ofc, but I’d be cool! (I have a bunch of ideas for it I’ll send seperate (maybe) feel free to ignore them but like free crappy inspo man)

Request: Y/N is a part of SBI but they aren’t treated that great by the fandom or really the rest of the group. Its not like SBI MEANS to disregard the ‘hate’ towards Y/N like its nothing but they tend to dismiss or just ignore it, of course, they are still really close and care about Y/N, it still just hurts a little that they ignore it. But where the creators don’t realise they’re neglecting their friends emotions, the fans? They are fully aware they constantly joke about Y/N being the worst member of SBI. They are fully aware they also always ‘joke’ about forgetting Y/N exists. They are fully aware that despite Y/N being in as many if not more ‘SBI’ streams or videos than the other creators, they act as if they’re not actually a part of SBI. They are fully aware many of them aren’t joking when they say Y/N is not a member of SBI, or when they say they wish Y/N would stop showing up to streams. They are fully aware that the main ‘joke’ people think of when they think SBI is something along the lines of; “Whos Y/N?” or “Y/N is SO the middle child of the SBI, we all forget them!” or “Y/N? Ohhh you mean the one that’s annoying but its not funny!” .. When the SBI are streaming bedwars 2v2v2’s with a random viewer each game and that viewer happens to end up on Y/N’s team (and be an asshole) they, of course, decide to complain that out of every member they could be teamed with, they got the worst member of SBI! (Even though Y/N and techno practice pvp together regularly and the only person in SBI Y/N can’t kill is techno) While Y/N does what they always do and laughs it off with a SICK comeback (despite how much it hurts when they realise they expected that kind of reaction to being teamed with them), the rest of the SBI seems to snap as though that was their final straw (starting with tommy yelling ‘THATS BULLSHIT’ or smth) and all collectively go on a rant about how shitty most(?) fans treat Y/N, to Y/N’s surprise most of all of the fives chats are agreeing..? Y/N starts to realise maybe they aren’t as hated as they thought.. and maybe, just maybe, they are a lot more loved then they realised.

MODEL I’M SO SORRY MY REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS SO LONG-

Its funny how I’m not motivated to write actual fics but I can write 800 word requests-

LOVE YOU AND YOUR WORK!!!

✨🌌🌙 Annon-

I’d love to write more for Cut Chaos! My writing has been all over the place lately because I’ve been really busy (school stuff :/) but I do enjoy writing for that (not-so) little series

Pairing: Gn!Reader X CC!SBI (Tommy, Techno, Phil, Wilbur)

Found Fury

You aren’t unfamiliar with the term unwanted. If anything, you’ve burrowed yourself a home in the word, splitting it in two. Accepted yourself for what you are.

Quite honestly, if there was a record for ‘most hated SBI member’ it’d go to you. Actually, it wouldn’t, considering how most people don’t even see you as a member of SBI. The forgettable middle child, adrift alone.

There wasn’t much you could do except accept it.

Bothering the others with it was unfathomable. Besides, they’ve surely seen some hint of it. They aren’t quite that blind, even if Wilbur and Techno do wear glasses. And, seeing as how they haven’t said a word… maybe it’s best if you didn’t nag about it.

It’s not that you’re partial to the so-called ‘suffering in silence,’ because you really aren’t. But you’re uniquely acquainted with brushing things off, pretending that your friends’ continued silence doesn’t sting and that being excluded from the group isn’t heart-wrenching. In the end, who really cares what strangers online think?

You can ignore the messages in your inboxes. The emails to your professional email asking if you’re really a part of SBI. All the replies to all your posts. Every fucking comment on every video you’re in.

Sometimes, it piles around you so high that you can’t see past it. Words strung together to form sentences that rephrase ‘Who even are you’ a thousand times. Or the more creative, ‘How do you manage to be unfunny AND annoying’ mixed with a side of scorn. It’s worse when it trends on Twitter after a stream, but who are you to complain?

After all, you’re just lucky to be following SBI around according to Twitter. Blessed to be in their fucking presence.

For the most part, you just hire more mods. And they’re pretty strict with bans, so your chat tends to err on the positive side. Everyone else’s? Well, let’s just say there’s a reason you don’t have their chats open.

Today is no exception.

Bedwars with viewers, everyone being randomly set into 2v2v2. Tommy’s idea, although he’s lost every round that Techno wasn’t on his team. That was mostly due to you sneak attacking him while he targeted Techno, but still.

“POTATOMAN!” Tommy shouts, practically bursting your eardrums. “YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE!”

“Christ, mate.” Phil laughs.

“…my ears…” Techno mourns quietly, making both you and Wilbur laugh.

“We’re getting in! We’re getting in!” Tommy says excitedly, and everyone spawns into their teams.

Your heart sinks when you realize you’re with the viewer on white team. Their character, a potato in a suit, stares at you as you walk backward to collect iron and gold from the generator.

You’ve been lucky up until this far, always getting placed with one of the others. Logically, you knew you’d eventually be placed with the random, but part of you still hoped. Still dared to relax into the game.

Potatoman’s character stands there for a few minutes, and you buy wool with your iron.

“Funnel me the gold, Tommy.” Techno says calmly.

“No! Fuck off! This is my gold!”

“You’re just going to walk off the edge with it!”

“No I won’t! When have I ever?!”

“Last game.” Wilbur inputs.

“Wha— I was pushed! That’s different!”

A message pops up in game chat, and your eyes flick to it for a moment, too busy with building a bed defense. When you realize it isn’t Tommy’s death message (it would’ve been really funny, let’s be honest), you do a double take to read it.

<Potatoman> My luck omg

Your eyebrows raise. For a split second, you dare to hope that the viewer is a fan of yours. That they want to be on a team with you. Hope is a dangerous thing; it just makes things worse when it dies.

<Potatoman> Stuck with the worst member &lt;Potatoman> Not even a member fr lmaooo

Ah. And there it is.

Seeing the messages doesn't hurt; it's the fact that you knew to expect it right from the start.

That's not to say you're even the worst member, because in PvP you're a God. Hell, you and Techno train it all the time for fun! Even Tommy cheers when he gets teamed with you in PvP games like this. Being teamed with you for Bedwars was a pretty good thing, in theory.

Always in theory.

Because somehow, someway, you're never liked enough. Never enough for the viewers in general, even. Too annoying, too loud, too imperfect, too showy, too quiet, too anything. And you know to expect that feedback rather than to expect any semblance of compliments.

"At least the so-called 'worst member' didn't walk off the edge, unlike someone on my team." You quip, targeting your words at the viewer.

"Heh?" Techno asks.

"Oh, uh, nothing-"

"Look in chat." Wilbur interrupts.

There's a pause, then:

"THAT'S BULLSHIT!" Tommy screams into his mic. "WHAT THE HELL?!"

"I'm agreeing with the kid here." Techno sighs.

"Actually, we really should talk about how the fans have been online. It's not even a recent thing." Phil says, his calm a stark contrast to Tommy.

"I've seen it a lot too. Let's be clear; everyone here is part of the Sleepy Bois. I made it, I make the rules." Wilbur declares.

"You did not make it!" Tommy protests, but Wilbur doesn't stop for him.

"To make it clear, we won't tolerate any hate of anyone in this group, especially not to the extent that we've been seeing recently."

Your eyes glance over at your chat, already stunned, only to have your jaw slacken when you see that your chat is spamming hearts and "YESYESYES."

"Guys, you don't have to... do this." You try.

"I'm pretty sure we do." Techno deadpans, and you can practically imagine the optifine zoom on his character's face he's probably doing/

"The fans treat you like shit, and we're all tired of it." Wilbur agrees. "It's stupid."

"They're all internet assholes." Tommy chimes in, this time at a reasonable volume.

"So from here on out, anyone who says mean shit to you gets banned. From all of our chats." Your eyes go wide at Phil's words, and you quickly pull up his and Tommy's streams to see what their chats are saying.

But... that can't be right. The outpouring of agreement can't be right. The fans all hate you, you know this. There's no way they're agreeing with Phil, Tommy, Techno, and Wil.

So you open Wilbur's chat, then pull up a YouTube tab for Techno's stream too.

Agreement floods every chat, and for just a moment you can't breathe. You were the supposed forgotten middle child, the one nobody cares to stand up for. But that was wrong, wasn't it?

You are part of the Sleepy Bois, and you're just as deserving as everyone else. Of the fans, of the support, of being able to open chat and not see overwhelming hate.

Of being loved.

[if-you-feel-lonely]

LONELY'S ADVENT CALENDAR - DAY ONE

Prompt: Family photos

C!SBI x reader (family au!), Tubbo and Ranboo mentioned

TW: Violence (lighthearted sibling violence), swearing, sibling bullying (calling each other adopted and the like)

Event masterlist (discontinued)

Phil loved to take awful pictures of his kids. He'd never hired a photographer and took proper, professional family photos. Why? That's the same question that Technoblade, Wilbur, Tommy and Y/n all asked every year. Along the halls of the house was a variety of family photos. In the living room, in a frame on the windowsill, was a picture of the four of them, covered from the knees down in white powder.

"Tommy, you're going to knock the flour if you keep walking up and down like that." Wilbur stated, sighing irritably.

"I would never. Careful is literally my middle name-"

Famous last words. He received a death glare from three flour-coated teens.

"This is why your real parents gave you up!" The neighbours could've heard Y/n shout.

"I'm not fuckin' adopted!"

To Phil, this was prime opportunity. As the older trio directed their fury at the younger blonde, he managed to sneak a picture of their gluten-covered legs. Y/n snapped around at the sound of a camera app. Needless to say, Phil was almost in hysterics.

"Come over and do that again, I dare you."

The next photo was from many years ago. Tommy was no older than eleven, Wilbur was fourteen, Y/n and Technoblade were the eldest children at fifteen. Out of context it looked strange - Techno and Y/n walking ahead of the younger two as Tommy slide tackled Wilbur's shins.

The four of them had been walking back to the house, having been sent home again after the school decided there was too much snow to stay in school. It was in the students' best interest to go home before the snow got too thick.

The older two walked ahead, lost in their own conversation. Tommy, however had other plans.

"You killed my father, prepare to die!" He shouted, before running at Wilbur and slide tackling him, successfully knocking him to the floor.

Techno turned around, followed by Y/n. "I don't claim this." He spoke. Y/n hummed in agreement.

Days like this made Phil grateful for the high-quality doorbell camera.

The living room, the dining room and the halls were all filled with similar photos - it made Phil smile when he walked past, and it made his kids blush with embarrassment at the awful timing of the photos being taken.

His favourite, though?

It sat on his desk in his office next to his computer. Wilbur and Y/n sat on the sofa looking at each other, both with their legs crossed. They were playing slaps, despite Phil telling them not to. On the floor, Techno attempted to teach Tommy how to wrap presents, but to no avail. It's A Wonderful Life played in the background on the TV. Tubbo and Ranboo had spent the day with the family - the two were sat on the other sofa, watching Coraline on a pirated website, on Tubbo's very cracked phone, with the help of the house's patchy Wi-Fi.

It wasn't a very calm evening - Tommy wound up covering himself, Techno and the carpet in tape and wrapping paper, Wilbur and Y/n ended up with very sore hands, and sore wrists where they had missed, and Ranboo and Tubbo had to sleep on the sofas that night, since it was dark, rainy and probably dangerous.

But it was his family, and by that definition, it was perfect.

[wimbledonsoot]

[the fall] - CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS (ep.1)

you meet up with your best friend and decide on a theme for your shared english project. later, your cover as a superhero is blown during a fight with a certain set of vigilantes.

trigger warnings for this chapter: nothing beyond the TWs mentioned in the description

word count: 2.3k

If there's someone you could describe as funny, its Technoblade.

Now, it's not like he's funny in the classical sense of the word. His dry sense of humor doesn't appeal to everyone and it's cost him more than one friend, but it gets you laughing your ass off every time you hear him.

It's great.

And look, there's a reason you're friends. It's not like you don't share a sense of humour - actually the very opposite. The dry cracks at random things that might be classified as dark humour are a characteristic that you share.

Plus, horror movie nights are always something you can laugh at (the guys running away? looks so fucking ridiculous, right?)

So when Techno cracks a joke at the fact that Dream looks like a fucking train wreck after that fight with the vigilantes labelled as The Syndicate during one of your work-hangouts, you should be laughing. You know that. But although you share Techno's dark sense of humour, you can't laugh about the fact that your friend was the one stumbling back into headquarters with a broken rib and an expected recovery period of three weeks.

If you ever see those vigilantes again, you'll go up against them yourself.

Even though you aren't really... used to fighting against real life people.

Yes, you're a superhero, but you stick to the sidelines. Your powers - at least the way you've learnt to utilize them - are more suited to subtle manipulation anyway. A trick of the light here, a flash there, and the vigilantes your team are going up against are distracted, and thus easier to incapacitate. The best part? You're sitting in a chair at headquarters, doing your part from the sidelines. You're vital, but you don't need to put yourself at risk.

It's easier to live a normal life that way too.

You frown, pulling yourself out of your thoughts. You notice that Techno's staring, toying, perhaps, with asking you if you're okay. If he does, you'll say you just zoned out. Its not a lie.

"Y/N?" He asks.

"Hmm?"

"You good? You didn't uh... laugh," Techno says. Then, he adds: "That sounded desperate."

"It did," you confirm, laughing slightly. Your little mishap forgotten, Techno laughs too.

"So," you pause, steadying your breath, "Do you want to work on the English project now?"

Techno smiles, nods. "We had an idea, didn't we?" He pauses, pulls out his notebook (the cover's decked in doodles, not all are good, but the man gets so incredibly bored in class that it makes sense). "Ah, right," the page he flips open too has a large drawing of a trojan horse in the center, and the rest of it is covered in his indecipherable scrawl. The project idea you had comes to you.

"Right. The uh... trojan horse allusion thingy."

Techno snorts, "Yeah, the trojan horse allusion thingy."

"Jerk."

"That's a weak-ass insult Y/N, you can do better," he teases. Instead of rising to the challenge with words, you leap forward, crashing into him and effectively pushing him into the pillows. He laughs loudly as his pink hair flies into his face. It's an adorable sight - your heart warms in your chest.

You slowly get off of him, sliding backwards so that you're leaning against the opposite wall.

The bed you guys are sitting on is Techno's, and like everything else in his room, it's been put in a place that's weird, but somehow makes sense. He has this little nook in the side of his room (well, not so little) which is right by the bay window looking out towards their backyard, and apparently when Phil was putting the bed in, he noticed that it looked like it would fit, and boom, it did (perfectly, in fact). You still believe that they had it made with the measurements, if you're being honest. It just fits too well.

While Techno's still adjusting his hair (the man's a diva in disguise, you swear you've seen him walk - no, run - in heels before) you grab his notebook, scanning the page for any other notes you guys made in class. There's a little note in your handwriting next to the trojan horse. Allusions? it reads. Beneath that, Techno's written something about deeper layers.

"Techno," you say, drawing his attention to you, "Can you decipher what you wrote here?"

"Where?" He asks, leaning in towards you.

You point to the note.

He narrows his eyes and then says: "Yeah I was talking about how we could think about the message Homer himself meant to deliver with the Trojan Horse. Deeper levels beyond just disguise."

You nod, raising your pencil to your lips and chewing it. It's a habit you've developed when you're thinking. Some people stick their tongues out slightly, some have a weird expression on their face, and some, like you, chew sticks made of wood and graphite. "It's a good idea. And we could in theory combine it with the allusion one, considering they're similar enough topics."

"Mhm," Techno agrees.

"Yeah, let's do that," you say, and then you start working.

---

Hours later, you guys finally pull yourself out of the work flow. In the time, you've researched allusions and deeper meanings, and it looks like the project's coming along well. Your professor wants a visual and written explanation of the subject chosen however, which means you'll still have a heavy workload this weekend.

You grab your stuff and walk down the stairs, Techno following you. It's 3:40, which means you'll be late for training. Shit.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs is Tommy, with Wilbur standing behind him, smiling in a way that can only mean trouble. From behind you, Techno says: "Oh for fuck's sake."

You don't want to get sibling-bullied right now because you're already late as it is, and thus you just try to brush past them. However, at that moment, Tommy has the audacity to say: "What were you guys doing in there for so long?" And Wilbur the courage to add, "With the door closed too?"

You blink. Behind you, Techno's cheeks go pink.

"Studying," he says.

"Mhm, totally studying."

"Guys," you say slowly, raising an eyebrow.

Wilbur smiles innocently, "Yeah?"

Techno can probably tell that something needs to be done before you or he ends up getting violent, so he yells at the top of his lungs: "PHIL!" The father of the group comes walking in within seconds, a cup of coffee in his hands.

Tommy is quick to say he is innocent. Techno is quick to disagree. Either way, the debate does not last long. You're here, after all, and you could never lie.

So within minutes, you're out the door, saying bye, smiling, and already dreading hero practice for the next, you check your watch. Four hours until you have to be there.

---

"Dream, nobody gives a shit about the fact that you're in love with George. It's obvious," Sapnap says as he climbs over the bookshelf border you've set up in the shared space in an attempt to maintain order. It seems like it's purpose has been uh... denied. Now it's just clutter, you suppose.

Sitting on the floor, Dream glares at the formerly mentioned superhero, who snickers and then leans his hands on the back of your chair, peering over your shoulder.

"What you doing?" The singsong voice he uses irritates you beyond belief.

"Uh... sending an email to a news network that wants an interview with Dream... and telling them no?"

At this, Dream perks up and you roll your eyes. For fuck's sake.

"I never said-"

"The network's funded by Schlatt's party."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

None of you like Schlatt. He's self centered, egotistical, and he's only presented ideas that will restrict the Hero Council. What he does isn't ethical, yet somehow people support him.

Sapnap breathes out beside you, scrolling through your emails slowly. You bat his hand away, but not before he can tap on an email labelled confidential.

He skims through it quickly and then says: "OH!" In the loudest voice he can. Dream's ears seem to perk up.

But before he can pursue what he's seen, Mushroom Man himself walks in.

Wearing his ridiculous hat, of course.

Dream, in all his glory, is standing in front of the door when George, the only one of you whose face and identity are openly available to the public, enters the room, and of course the former has to crash into the door. Sapnap's cackle is so loud you'd wince if you weren't laughing your ass off too.

George frowns as he walks in, and says: "What is fucking happening here?"

Dream scowls at you two. "Nothing. I mean, we're working but like not anything important... uh... that makes it sound like we're not doing anything actually, so it is important, it's just not important for you to know."

"That's suspicious," George comments.

You'd swear Dream was blushing under the mask with the way he stutters over his next words (he probably is): "Uh... it's really not supposed to be."

There's a moment where Dream is tense and awaits the next words, but as soon as a smile spreads across George's face you can tell that the former relaxes. He smiles at you too, beaming, as soon as George looks away from him. It's adorable, really.

"So," George pauses, "What are we actually doing, considering Dream isn't telling me anything."

"Nothing really," you reply, adjusting your mask so that it sits better, "it's just a routine-"

The building shakes violently, and you leap to your feat.

"What was that?" George asks, his voice panicked, and Sapnap shakes his head, signaling he doesn't know.

"Y/N, stay here, cover our bases, okay?" Dream says. You nod. Odds are its an attack, but one at headquarters themselves? That's... brave, even for vigilantes.

As you tug on the headset another quake rumbles through the building, and you grimace at the things falling to the ground. With a click, the footage from Dream, Sapnap and George's cameras transfer to the big screen and the sound transfers to the speakers, and you have the freedom to sit on the ground and focus.

With a thought, swirling dark glimpses of your power flash in the edges of your vision.

"Dream?" You inquire.

"It looks like a vigilante attack," he supplies, "but it's bold and-"

He's cut off by someone crashing into George, too fast for you to see who. As he rushes forward, your eyes flash to Sapnap, who's fighting against another assailant. Eager to help, you let a glimpse of black flash into their vision, which causes them to look at you.

Long pink hair flows down the man's back, and his primary features are covered by a hog's mask. From there, he wears lose, somehow kingly clothes that allow him to move swiftly and fight beyond human capability.

The Blood God.

The fight continues on, and as it does you learn who your team is fighting against.

It looks like the entire Syndicate is attacking you. Philza's black sword flashes as he raises it against Dream's own weapons, Phantom phases in and out of existence each time one of George's attacks comes even remotely close to him, and Apollon watches from the side lines, healing every one of their wounds each time they gain one. It seems an impossible fight. But you've won against them before.

"Dream, do you need backup?" You speak into the microphone.

His voice is breathless when he replies with a short: "Yeah."

But when you call for support, the Hero Council doesn't reply.

And your screens cut out.

And suddenly, the sounds of fighting are so close you can hear them.

Your eyes widen as you're faced with the idea of the fight making it all the way here, and without a second thought you tie your mask up tighter and grab a weapon from the wall. It's a blade etched with silver markings, runes supposedly affecting its ability to fight - making it stronger. It seems to glisten in the light with the enchantments placed upon it.

The sword feels heavy in your hand but the adrenaline rushing through you lightens it.

But as you open the door into the hallway, everything goes quiet.

The clashing of weapons and the yelling stops. You frown.

Then the pain comes. It starts in your right arm, and you wince as it magnifies throughout your entire body. It's too late once you notice that it's Apollon standing in front of you, manipulating the way your body moves. But you have to do something.

So you lash out blindly, striking for something and hitting, in a wild stroke of luck, Apollon's leg with the hilt of you sword. It distracts him, and gives you time to burst up and disable him with a quick kick of your foot.

For your first time in a year, you're pretty good.

As you go up against your next opponent, Philza, you realize that you've blown something. Simply because he says: "Who are you?"

It is in that moment that your world comes - for fear of sounding dramatic - crashing down. It serves as a distraction for the so-called Crowfather, and he slams the hilt of his weapon into your stomach, throwing you backwards.

Scratch you being pretty good.

You suck.

But you need to keep going, right? So you get up and dive out of the way of Philza's next blast, scrambling towards coms. If you can just get there, to the the central processing unit (where any blockers they have on electricity won't work) you can contact the hero council, and you'll be saved.

Before you can press the button though, the sharp blade of a sword presses against your throat and you freeze.

"Stop," the Blood God says, his voice gravelly and low.

You do as he demands, your finger still reaching out for the button.

There's nothing you can do.

[itsjustnobody0]

Chapter 5.

Hi guys!! Nobody here! Hope your all good and welcome to part 5 of my fan fiction. It’s about to get interesting!!! If I haven’t hit you guys with enough drama yet this is going to knock you off your feet completely! If you haven’t seen the drama in the last chapters here is the links to go catch up on it:

Chapter 1- https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/itsjustnobody0/693832797859856384?source=share

Chapter 2- https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/itsjustnobody0/693832797859856384?source=share

Chapter 3- https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/itsjustnobody0/693835729264082944?source=share

Chapter 4- https://at.tumblr.com/itsjustnobody0/chapter-4-hi-guys-and-welcome-back-i-hope-your/lbq8794dbbp8

So hopefully your all caught up! I haven’t posted in a while and I’m not feeling the best mentally but I had most of this chapter done anyway. I only write a few lines today the rest has been written for forever so I kinda forgot what direction it’s going in. Enjoy guysss!!

TW for chapter 5-

Alcohol 

Dilated Pupils

Blood

Passing out

Beatings

Basements

Sharp knife

Kicking

Stabbing 

All of these are briefly mentioned some not even the word, I just put them on in case. They probably won’t even trigger people who get triggered by them but just in case. Enjoy!!

 Ranboo set his laptop down and logged in. I grabbed the memory stick out of my pocket, I had grabbed it after I saw Jack. I took a deep breath and plugged it in. All the videos and pictures loaded onto the screen. We clicked on the first one and saw me in a park. I was on the red and black swing, laughing while my dad pushed me. It was kinda cute, it was definitely not how I remembered my dad. We clicked the arrow and saw me with a rucksack with books in holding someone’s hand. You couldn’t see who it was. Then we clicked the arrow and found a video. We turned the sound to midway and pressed play. 

The camera pointed at my dad, he wore a stained, white, tank top and his hair was messy, pupils dilated. He held a belt in his hand and he looked angry. I could here my mother laughing behind the camera, it was shacking slightly as she did. The camera then turned to what looked like a 7 year old me on the floor crying.

“GET UP YOU LITTLE BITCH.” My father shouted. I cried some more as I pulled myself up off the ground. I was shaky and unstable and I was bleeding all along my back. My dad whipped me again and again around my back making it bleed and go red. I wasn’t wearing a shirt just underwear. 

I stared in shock at the computer screen, I had forgotten about them filming that. They normally only filmed the bad beatings but that was one of the first ones so I guess they wanted it for future reference. I didn’t dare look either side of me at the two boys sitting next to me. I pulled my hand towards the computer and clicked the arrow again, it was another video. I clicked play.

It was in the same room again, a basement type thing. That was where I was locked most of my life. I was a bit older this time, around ten, a year before I ended up on the streets. My father was holding a sharp knife in his right hand.

“Now, now, you little bitch. What should I draw today?” He rhetorically asked me. Of course, the condition I was in I wasn’t fit to answer anyway. My mother was once again, cackling behind the camera like the witch she was.

“I don’t feel very arty today so maybe some basic patterns. Some long lasting scars.” He pondered what he was going to do. He brought the knife to my bruised, agitated skin. He stabbed it quiet far into my back, then he dragged it in a wonky line down it. My screams pierced the air, they were super loud. My dad joined in with my mothers laughing. I soon passed out from blood loss and pain. The video ended with my father kicking my in the head, hard. 

I felt both of the boys staring at me. I looked at each of them a bit nervous about what they were thinking at me. They looked sorry for me but also shocked. They probably weren’t expecting to see what they just saw but then again neither did I.

“You know what, how about that movie?” I asked them. They both quickly nodded. I took my memory stick out and placed it back into my pocket. We got on Netflix and we put on the basketball diaries and relaxed watching the movie.

 (yes I know that isn’t on Netflix anymore but it’s my favourite movie so deal with it)

Eventually the movie finished and my eyes were getting heavy. I looked at the other two boys and they looked wide awake. 

“What time is it?” I asked

“Almost ten o’clock.” Tubbo told me

“Oh it’s not even that late.” I mumbled

“Are you tired?” Ranboo asked me

“No not at all.” I said in the strongest voice I could master. I heard them chuckle at me.

“Heyyy. Don’t laugh at me.” I said grumpily

“Go to sleep.” Tubbo laughed.

“Well if you insist.” I nodded.

Soon after I fell asleep leaning against someone. 

That night I had nightmares. Bad ones. They were all of the place. And of my parents. Memories of them beating me. Scarfing me for life, both mentally and physically. They were horrible and vivid nightmares as if I was really back there. 

I was sitting in a ball on the floor, screaming loudly. I was crying, my salty tears streaming down my bruised face. I knew what was coming next, my father hovered over me holding the sharp knife, the one he used to torture me. He yanked me up by the neck, holding my off the ground slightly. I kicked and thrashed my feat in hope that he would drop me. He threw me against the wall hard, I landed on the floor with a loud thud. I couldn’t move very well, all I could do was scream and cry. 

“STAND UP!” He screamed at me. I knew better then to ever disobey him so I did what he asked. I used the wall to pull myself up and face him. He looked at my with disgust. I looked down at his feet, afraid to look at him.

“LOK AT ME! NOW!” He shouted. I quickly moved my head to look at his face, it was contorted in anger. I wasn’t sure what I had actually done but my father liked to punish me for a lot of things. 

He walked towards me and I tried not to whimper away. He raised his fist and punished me hard in the head. My lip busted open and I could feel the blood dribbling down my chin and neck. I looked at him again because if I didn’t it would get worse. He raised the life at me and pushed me against the wall. He held me there and put the knife up to my head. He dragged it down, making a jagged scar over my eye. It hurt so much and I tried to get away, not caring what he would do to me. Me trying to do that was a mistake, when he got to my eye he pushed the knife in. I could feel the cool blade inside my eyeball. It was so horrible and it hurt so much. At first all I could see was red out of my one eye, and then black. I was screaming and crying so much that I didn’t notice that until he dropped me. I closed my eyes and hoped this wasn’t real, I hope that not of this had happened, but it had. I opened my eyes and looked around, I couldn’t see anything, this made me cry even more, my own father had made me go blind. That was the day I knew I had to escape, that was the day I realised that anywhere was better then there.

I woke up in the middle of the night sweating and tears streaming down my face. I quickly wiped them away, I hated crying so much. I sat up and turned the lights on. I saw that I was in my own room somebody must have taken me back there. I didn’t dare go back to sleep that night.

I went to the window I had climbed out two days ago and looked out of it. I opened it and looked up. The drain I had recently climbed down was also available to climb up. I swung myself onto the windowsill and grabbed the drain. I pulled my weight over to the drain and climbed up, it was surprisingly easy to climb up. I got onto the roof, it was a red slate kinda roof, not very slippy, but also not easy to keep your balance. I slowly stood up and walked further up the roof. It was sloped a bit but not enough to make it impossible to walk on. I’m sat down and watched the sun rise, it was very beautiful. I sighed thinking about everything that had happened in the last week, it was hard to process. I missed the streets and I wanted to get back to them but I didn’t want to leave here that bad. I had made two friends, even though they probably thought I was annoying. The food here was nice enough, and I had a place to sleep. The rules were a bit shit but I could bend them enough. It wasn’t if they would kick me out, it would put me back to the start  and after all the effort they had put themselves through to get me here it wasn’t worth just kicking me out again. 

Soon after I heard noise from inside the house, meaning people were finally up. I climbed down from the roof and back into my room. It was starting to get messy, I made a mental note that I had to tidy it later. I put my coat and beanie on over the joggers and T-shirt I was wearing.  I walked downstairs and saw Niki cooking something.

“What you making?” I asked loudly

“Pancakes.” She smiled at me. I gave her a half smile back.

“Can I have one please?” I asked politely

“Of course you can Y/n!” She answered

“Thank you.” I smiled properly this time.

I decided to watch her mix everything, it looked very confusing but also fun. She was humming something as she worked, the thing she was humming sounded familiar, like I’d heard it somewhere. Before I knew it I was singing along. I didn’t know the name of the song but I’d heard it when I was younger, it was comforting to hear something familiar. We laughed and sing together and just had a good time, I was enjoying myself and before I knew it my pancake was done. 

I could only have one as I hadn’t been eating much for the last few years and I didn’t want to be sick but I enjoyed it so much. Niki’s baking was so good and she was a talented baker.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” I asked gesturing at the ingredients. 

“Sure! Come here I’ll show you!”

[poraphia]

Maybe the soap opera drama has a tight grip on my braincells BUT

imagine siren with a love interest who keeps. Getting. Into. Bad. Relationships.

not BAD bad relationships, just— people that are kind of pricks. One guy accidentally leaves the door open and their cats escape (and he doesn’t give a single fuck, just keeps watching tv and when the reader comes home from work he’s like “oh yeah ur cats escaped a few hours ago”), another never shows up on dates, one is just an arrogant prick, the other is boring as hell and has nothing in common with the reader——

Just

that must STING for siren. Like—— he’s right there????? He’d never think that he would be ENTITLED to a relationship with the reader, NEVER— but why can’t he be your type??

10/10 angst for him id say

he can’t even convince himself that he would be BETTER for the reader because he’s a villain

idk

"i found your cat, not him."

➵ PAIRING! clinic!siren!wilbur x civilian!taken!reader

➵ CREATING! 12.17.23 | 3631 words

➵ CONTAINING! jealous wilbur, reader has a cat, reader has a bf, jester talking some sense into siren, heartbroken wilbur

➵ SAYING! this took some days to work on but look! it’s finally done! i had a lot of ups and downs and probably switched up the plot a couple times but here it is :D thank uuu @listenheresweaty for suggesting this honestly i was thinking about writing this the moment u suggested it and now i have free time so yippie. hope yall enjoy :D

My masterlist :)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(y/n) had a reputation to have a terrible taste in partners. Whether it be a girlfriend that refused to take them on a date and made (y/n) plan all of the dates out, or the boyfriend they had now, who “accidentally” left the door open, letting their cat escape. Wilbur watched from the window as the desperate (y/n) approached any passerby, showing a picture of their feline, just to have any sort of direction as to where it might be.

Wilbur wasn’t a hero of any sorts. The clothes on his back were purchased with money robbed from the bank down the street, and the laptop he was using to do his work on was stolen from some tech store in the mall. And don’t even get him started on his body count that could fill a graveyard. His powers were venom dripping from his tongue, and he was nothing but a snake.

So what made Wil get up from his seat to tap the shoulder of a helpless (y/n)?

Maybe because this person was an interest of Wil’s for quite some time now. From seeing them inside the coffee shop from time to time, to even catching the glimpse of the back of their head as they boarded the bus— It was like this person was meant to be in Wil’s life. Though he just never had the excuse to go up to them. So instead, for weeks now, he has been admiring this person from afar, seeking for some type of opportunity to spark up a conversation.

“Hey.. Are you alright?” He asked. (y/n) turned around, a little out of breath from quickly speaking to anyone who approached them.

“Y-Yeah— no! No..” She sighed, breathlessly. They slumped against a nearby wall, almost defeated. “I— I lost my cat. She’s this sweet white ragdoll with a pink collar and big black eyes. My boyfriend left the door open and she just snuck right out! He said the cat’s been gone for a while now and he didn’t even bother helping.” They trailed off. “I know she’s here somewhere.. I don’t know..” They buried their face into their hands, frustrated with themself.

Wilbur looked at them with a tilted head and puffed up cheeks. Despite this being a stranger, he couldn’t help but feel a panging guilt in his chest. “Hey,” He placed a hand on their shoulder. “I think I might be able to find her.”

“..You think so?” They responded in a meek voice.

“I’m sure..” He replied in a gentle tone. “I usually work like really late in the city. Maybe I could find her on my way home? Just give me some form of communication and a picture and I’m sure I can find her.” He smiled reassuringly. (y/n)’s head perked up, and suddenly their face was beaming with hope. It was a look Wilbur wished he could screenshot with his eyes and keep it in his mind gallery.

“Thank you! You don’t know how much this means to me.” They gleamed. “Hold on— Let me give you my phone number. What was your name again?”

Something about this question made Wil freeze up a little. This complete stranger, telling him that he’s a good person, is also asking for his name? I mean, it’s not like its the first time someone asked his name. But being asked in such a kind and polite way, it almost took him back to when he first met Phil.

He shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Wilbur,” He finally said. “Call me Wil.”

After exchanging contact information they parted their separate ways. Wil decided to pack up his stuff and head back home. He took the train to his neighborhood and spent the whole ride staring at this picture of (y/n) with their cat he learned was named “Anvil.”

The picture was a selfie taken by (y/n) with Anvil pressing her fluffy face against her owner’s soft skin. It was a cute sentiment captured by their phone camera, and Wilbur knew it was a treasured picture of theirs. He took the time to admire the cat’s features. It had a mess of white fur, and would definitely stick out like a sore thumb in the midnight dark. The train came to a halt as it had arrived to Wil’s destination. It didn’t take but a fifteen minute to arrive home.

Wilbur inserted the keys into the doorknob before pushing the door open. He kicked the door behind him closed as he placed his coat and shoes by the shoe cabinet and dresser.

“Hey, Wil,” Phil called from the kitchen.

“Hey, dad.” He shouted back. Wil threw his bag onto the couch before sliding against the sleek wooden floor to the entrance of the kitchen. Phil’s wings were loosely hanging behind him as the man stir fried some ingredients into a wok. “What’s for dinner?” Wil asked.

“Oh, just some fried rice.” Phil shrugged. “Whatcha do today? Hang out at the cafe?”

“Ah, yeah, pretty much.” Wil said, leaning against the fridge. “I, uh, met someone today.”

“Oh?” Phil said, raising an eyebrow. “Someone, you say?”

“What— Hey! It’s not like that..” Wil rolled his eyes while crossing his arms. However that wasn’t enough to convince Phil.

“Well if you say so.” Phil smirked. “So, what happened?”

Wil turned around and grabbed a glass from the cabinet before pouring himself a glass of ice cold water. He took a sip before speaking. “Well, there was this person and— I’m not quite sure what it was about them but.. They had lost their cat, and I felt really bad, so I offered to help them. They sounded so kind and stuff, but like— Apparently their cat ran away because their stupid boyfriend decided to leave the door open?! And he didn’t ever bother to help—!” Wil took a deep breath before bringing the glass back to his lips.

“—Oi, what are you bitching about?” As if on queue, Tommy emerged from the stairs. His hair was a ruffled his mess and he stumbled a little as he walked as if he had just woken up.

“Oh, Wil is just upset about someone he just met losing their cat—” Phil tried to explain, but Wil was quick to butt in.

“They didn’t lose their cat! It was their damn boyfriend!” He corrected. “Like, for hours he even knew the cat escaped and he just let it happen?!”

“Uh oh, looks like big Wil over here is catching feelings!” Tommy snickered as he wrapped an arm around Wil’s neck.

“Ugh, stop—” Wil pushed him away, but Tommy was persistent with his teasing.

“Little Wilbur has a crushy wushy and will find that cat and propose to them OoOoOo!” Tommy chirped.

“—Dad! Tommy’s being a bitch!” Wil cried as he struggled to escape Tommy’s grasp. After enough pushing, Wil was able to shove Tommy away before forcing Tommy into a headlock.

“Hey! Agh— Get off me you big bastard!” Tommy exclaimed. But Wilbur stood firm as he restricted Tom’s limbs by embracing him tightly.

“Both of you stop playing in the kitchen! Now, go get Techno because the food is ready.” Phil ordered, sternly.

Reluctantly, Wil released his grip from Tommy. Tom rubbed his arms and gave a big side-eye look to Wil.

“Bitch.” Tom muttered.

“Tommy! Go!” Phil ordered again, leaving Wilbur a snickering mess as Tom did his walk of shame toward the steps.

After dinner with the Soots (and some convincing to the family that Wilbur was not in love with this stranger he had just met), Wil dressed in his disguise and entered the night as Siren, a profound villain known in L’manburg city. His first task at hand was to find Anvil in Eastside.

He sauntered through the night with his hands in his pockets and his eyes lurking the streets. The night was cold and quiet with only the hum of the streetlights occupying his ears. But his only goal was to listen to the sweet meow of a cat lost and frigid. Every alleyway he came across he made sure to go through it thoroughly, making sure that the cat wasn’t stuck in a garbage can or in a cardboard box.

“Fuck, where is this cat..?” Siren muttered under his breath. He began whistling, making any noise imaginable to summon the feline. To no avail, no cats came running his way. Instead, a rather confused Jester jumped down from a building and right in front of Siren.

“What.. Are you doing?” Jester asked. Though he was wearing his mask, Siren could already tell he was furrowing his eyebrows.

Siren scoffed before continuing to walk. “I’m looking for a cat.” He replied. “But I can’t find her anywhere. I’m supposed to get her before the morning so I can return it to its owner.”

Jester followed behind him, his hands behind his back. “And this is important because..?”

“I-It’s important to me!” Siren retaliated, but if anything, it made him seen more desperate.

Jester sighed before shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you’re doing this just to impress someone.”

“I-I don’t know man.” Siren finally admitted, though he continued looking left and right in an attempt to find (y/n)’s cat.

“Siren, you know we can’t be doing this— y’know, trying to date and all of that. We’re villains. What do we do if they find out, and the whole syndicate is reported? Plus, you know how we are. We’re ‘evil.’” Jester made sure to put the last word into air quotes. “At least to society we are. We have to face the truth—”

Though Jester’s words were going one ear and out the other, some of them still stuck in Siren’s head. Sure, this wasn’t the first time Siren wanted to form a close bond with someone outside of the syndicate— I mean look at Tommy. He adjusted comfortably. But I guess this time it was different. This was a complete stranger that he met as a civilian, and now he was out as Siren looking for their cat! The more Siren thought about, the more he felt foolish.

Suddenly, a loud meow could be heard from an alleyway just to the left of Siren. Jester ceased his talking and looked at Siren, who was staring at Jester right back.

“Is that the—”

“Shhh..” Siren brought his finger to his lips to quiet down Jester. Slowly, Siren approached the alleyway with Jester steadily following behind him. Lo and behold was Anvil, perched on top of a cardboard box that sat right on top of a garbage can.

“How’re you going to get it?” Jester whispered.

“Just watch.” Siren cleared his throat. He picked up a spare cardboard box that was lying around and held it up near ground level for the cat to easily jump into. “Anvil, come and sit in this box.”

A moment of silence passes between the three of them as the cat laid comfortably in her seat, not planning to move anytime soon.

“Uh, was that supposed to do something?” Jester asked sarcastically. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

“What the.. Anvil, come here now!” I demanded once again. As if taunting me, the cat simply licked her paws in response. Jester couldn’t help but to burst out laughing.

“Are you telling me your powers don’t work on cats?!” Jester gasped between laughs. “That’s fucking hilarious! Hopefully the Heroes won't find out about this one!”

“Shut up, dude!” Siren fussed at him. It took a bit for Jester to settle down his laughter with hands up out of protest.

“Sorry, sorry.. I just think it’s way too fucking funny.”

“Help me get this fucking cat, dude!” Siren exclaimed, clearly annoyed now. Siren turned around, now facing the cat again. He decided to kneel down to ground level with the box now on the floor.

Siren whistled to grab the feline’s attention. “C’mere, Anvil! Come here, buddy!” But the cat simply ignored the masked man.

“Hm, do you have a picture of the owner?” Jester asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah—” Siren took out his phone and tapped on a few things before pulling up the picture of (y/n) and Anvil. Siren looked at it one last time before showing the screen to Jester. He studied the face carefully, even grabbing the phone himself for him to examine.

Then with a simple head shake, Jester transformed his face into (y/n). It was an uncomfortable sight seeing their head on Jester’s body, but it definitely sparked the interest of Anvil.

“Come here, Anvil, come here!” Jester exclaimed as knelt down. Even his voice was near identical to (y/n). Obediently, the cat hopped off of the garbage can and into the arms of Jester, purring gingerly as she snuggled into his chest. I gave Jester an amused look as he smirked smugly.

“So, am I getting paid for this?” Jester asked as he carefully placed the feline into the box.

“To be fair, you volunteered to help. I didn’t ask.” Siren replied.

“Touche.”

Siren and Jester walked together until they were able to change into civilian clothes to avoid any conflict. It was important for Jester to maintain the face of (y/n) to keep the cat as calm as possible. Despite Siren knowing that it was just his friend and business associate under that form, he couldn’t help but stare at the face of (y/n). How their hair flowed as they walked and how their eyes glowed even under the moonlight. It felt too enchanting to even be real.

“Hey, you good bro?” Jester’s voice was the only thing to throw Siren out of his delusions.

“Yeah— yeah I’m fine.” Siren muttered, looking away. Jester rolled his eyes before sighing.

“Dude, what did I just say about getting attached to anyone?” Jester lectured once again.

“I— I know.” Siren replied defeatedly. “I know..”

“It’s dangerous for you, and whoever this—” Jester pointed as his own face. “—person you’re so infatuated with. It would be dangerous for not only you, but for them too. Imagine how much trouble they would be in knowing that they’re in relations with a supervillain.”

“I know, Jester!” Siren cried. The both of them stopped in their tracks. Even the cat laid still in it’s box. The midnight crickets filled the empty air between the two villains. “I get it— it’s too dangerous for me. It’s too dangerous for them. I’m evil. I’m going to put them in danger— I just— ugh!” Siren tilted his head back in frustration.

As he bit the inside of his cheek to hold back any bitter words he had the urge to say, Jester stood there and stared at him. It hurt even more seeing the person of interest saying these words to him. Jester quickly transformed back into his regular mask and placed a hand on Siren’s shoulder.

“Look man, I’m sorry..” Jester apologized. “I’m just worried about you, alright? Don’t want anything happening to you, especially what went down this past year.” Siren tilted his head back to look at him, and though his eyes were shielded, he could tell they were full of sincerity and reassurance.

“Yeah..” Siren voiced. “I guess I’m just tired. I don’t know. Let’s hurry home soon.”

“Alright.” Jester agreed.

The two were able to change out of their villain disguises in an abandoned warehouse without anyone noticing them. They then made their separate ways, leaving Wilbur and the cat in careful silence on walk home. Once Wil made it to the front door, he was careful in making up the steps to his room where he would keep the cat. Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone’s sleep considering that Phil and Techno were at a meeting and Tom could be quite the heavy sleeper.

Wil shut his bedroom door behind him and placed the cardboard box next to his closet. Though the cat was sound asleep now, he made sure to tuck in the feline with any spare blankets he had lying around before changing into his sleepwear and laying down in bed.

Wil pulled out his phone and texted (y/n).

Wilbur Hey, able to meet me at the cafe sometime tomorrow morning? I have you cat :)

Surprisingly, they responded.

(y/n) OMG really?! Thank you so much! I’ll see you tomorrow x

‘x’? Don’t those usually mean kisses? They probably just meant it in a friendly way. Or maybe they’re showing an interest in Wilbur? Nah, that can’t be possible. But what if? What if they’re interested in Wilbur?

Regardless of what (y/n) intended when they signed off with that little letter, Wilbur only slept a mere two hours.

The next day, Wil was ecstatic despite his lack of sleep. It was as if in a blink of eye he was in bed, but then the next moment he was scarfing down his breakfast and bolting out the door with Anvil’s box in his arms.

After all this time, he finally was able to do some sort of action to get (y/n)’s attention. To finally place himself in their field of view, and maybe, just maybe, they would have some sort of interest toward him. The thought made Wilbur’s heart flutter, making him feel like his body lifted which each step he took.

Wil had finally made it to the cafe, and right on time for that matter too. The building was just up-ahead. Wilbur took a deep breath, his chest pounding from adrenaline, anxiousness, and maybe a bit of excitement sprinkled in there as well. He looked down at the cat, who was previously buried in a sheet. She was now looking up at the man with big beady eyes staring right back at him. The charm to her collar clinked as it waved side to side.

“Okay, Anvil, I’m gonna return you to your owner now, alright? I-I’m sure she’s missing you.” Though he was just simply talking to a cat, this was (y/n)’s cat. And he was returning (y/n)’s cat! He was! Not some other kind stranger, not her family, not even her dirtbag boyfriend. It was Wilbur who would be returning this cat. Without him, Anvil wouldn’t be safe and sound in someone capable to protect a feline from the treacherous night.

With a proud smile, Wil approached the cafe with confidence radiating off his strides.

This was it, he thought.

This was it.

But was it?

He looked in the window to locate (y/n), but instead he found a sight more displeasing. the sight made his heart drop and his knees weak, but it took all his strength and awareness that he was holding a cat to keep himself steady. (y/n) was huddled up next to what seemed to be their incompetent boyfriend. Their head leaned against his shoulder, but the boyfriend did not return the affection. Instead he sat with his hands both placed on his phone, seemingly playing some idle shooting game to occupy his absent mind.

It took (y/n) noticing that Wil was at the window for Wilbur to break out of his mind. Their face beamed at the sight of their cat, and immediately they got up and rushed out of the door to greet him and her feline.

“Anvil, sweetheart!” They exclaimed. The cat immediately perked her head to face her owner before jumping out of the box and into (y/n)’s arms. Wil smiled contently at the sight, however his brain felt all kinds of fuzzy. As if he wasn’t really there.

“Thank you so much! You don’t know how much this means to me. Thank you, Wil, seriously!” Something about (y/n) saying his name made him wince. It felt like a hug before a stab in the chest. Regardless, he pushed through.

“Yeah, of course. I told you I would get her as soon as possible.” Wilbur said.

“You’re an actual lifesaver! I’m sorry if she put you through any trouble. Can I buy you a coffee or?” (y/n) offered. Though the offer was tempting, he didn’t feel comfortable spending another second seeing him and them together. Especially at such a close proximity.

“I-I’m fine,” Wil quickly muttered. “I have to go somewhere in a bit. I’ll catch you later, yeah?”

“Of course! Thank you again, truly.” (y/n) smiled. He simply nodded before turning and walking away.

Though Wil could argue that the man (y/n) calls their boyfriend is a prick, it’s not like he would be any better. Just like Jester said. That man could sit on his ass all day, not care for their cat, not care for them, and yet, he would still be the better option between him and Wilbur.

Wilbur is evil.

Wilbur is a villain.

Wilbur has killed countless living people compared to that prick killing digital npcs for fun.

Though, the argument stapled in Wil’s mind.

Wil found (y/n)’s cat. Not him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ poor lil baby siren he just wants love :(( mayb ill do a part 2? i loved this concept ngl. notes of all kind are super duper appreciated :)) thank u for supporting my writing!

[michu-chaotic]

SBI + sibling!reader (plotanic)

Summary: Headcanons of the SBI with a younger sibling!reader walking into their room after having a nightmare.

c!Philza

So for Philza I'm gonna make him be your dad instead because we love dadza <3.

He's definitely a light sleeper and is usually always up to like 2am so once he hears your little sobs from across the room, he'd come rushing to you.

Will help you calm down by playing with his wings whilst doing breathing exercises :D! He will not leave your side until you're fully calmed. If your nightmare was THAT bad he will stay by the side of your bed until you fall asleep.

"I won't let anything happen to you, okay? It was just a silly nightmare <3"

He has three other sons so he's pretty much always ready for this moment <3.

Tommyinnit

Grumpy and heavy sleeper. You'll have to wake him up by softly poking his shoulder. At first he'd be like "What is it now?" still being half asleep, until he notices it's you and the tears in your eyes. He'd immediately go soft and sit up and ask what's wrong.

He'd honestly be like "It's just a nightmare, it's not real so don't worry." And wipe your tears away.

He doesn't really know what to do but he'd offer you to sleep with him if you want so you feel a bit more safer!

Also add the "Don't tell anyone about this."

Wilbur soot

Wilbur is another heavy sleeper tbh. But once he sees you all teared up, he'll just take a guess and scoot over so you can lay down beside him while telling him what happened. He would hum to one of his songs until you gradually fall asleep !!

If you're not ready to fall asleep, he'll just put on a funny video on YouTube for you to watch until you drift off to sleep again.

Depending on how bad your nightmare was, he will sometimes carry you back to your own room again and tug you in while you're sleeping or he'd just let you sleep in his arms.

c!Technoblade

He's a light sleeper as Philza. He's always on look out and stuff. But once you came into his room in tears with your comfort teddy in your hand while he was writing a letter he was like "Aren't you supposed to be asleep- oh."

He'll come up to you and carry you into his arms and sit on his lap. He'll ask what's going on and what the nightmare was about. He's unsure about what to do, but he had Tommy coming into his room after a nightmare when he was a small kid so it's nothing new.

He'd just make you do breathing exercises and do these cute piglin noises to make you laugh <3. He'll let you sleep in his bed and hum you a lullaby until you fall asleep.

[rotten-corpses-blog]

Hahaha..... TW: Abuse, violence, and shitty behavior from a grown man

So I learned literally last night that Wilbur Soot (a Minecraft YouTuber with a massive audience who I've also made content about before) is an abuser.

TDLR: Wilbur's ex-girlfriend Shelby (or Shubble) went on steam and told everyone about how he was manipulative, dirty, and would physically abuse her by biting her to the point she has painful bruises. Wilbur made a shit post on Twitter basically admitting all of it, but refused to actually apologize or take accountability for his abusive actions. A bunch of other Minecraft YouTubers came forward in support (obviously)

If you feel the need to fact check this then go to r/Wilbursoot or really any DSMP subreddit.

Unfortunately this is what happens if you idolize a person on the Internet, it sucks when they turn to be an asshole. For, the Lovejoy fans... Please find another band, don't die on this hill. Music you like isn't a reason to support an abuser. There are tons of other bands that you probably will enjoy more.

I will be deleting all content related to this pos and officially fucking off from the DSMP for forever honestly.

Remember, support all victims. Shelby needs support and sending death threats and all that isn't supporting Shelby.

[anima-writer]

Running in the rain

Summary: It was raining, everyone was protect inside of some house until Tommy said to Phil that you was outside...in the rain.

Pairing[s]: Sleepy Bois Inc × Toddler!Reader, platonic.

Warning[s]: None!

Word Count: 426

A/N: I had a dream and it was pretty cool so I dicide to write about it :)

In a humble house, five people lived there: Phil, Wilbur, Techno, Tommy and You

The rain kept falling, this kind of weather would have been perfectly pleasant on any given afternoon...if it weren't for the fact that there were children at home. The rain was already lasting more than 2 hours and was predicted to get worse, as the appearance of the sky was still full of gray clouds.

Unfortunately, the twins weren't home, they were in a small house in the backyard that Phil had made for the kids to play in. The twins had gone to decorate that place a little more so that you and Tommy could play without getting sick because of some dust, that little house was not used much by them so it was the least they could do for you two.

Even with the rain being heavy enough, the teenagers, Wilbur and Techno, didn't care as much as they were protected by both the house and the coats they were wearing, so it wasn't a problem for them to stay there.

Meanwhile, inside the house, a small six-year-old child was looking out of the porch window at his older brothers outside and, at the same time, admiring the rain falling so fast on the ground...this yard is likely to be full mud later. Phil, on the other hand, had closed all the windows and mopped the floor, as he hadn't realized there was an open window and because of that the rain had soaked the whole floor, and since he had a toddler at home he would have to clean so that no accident occurs.

After finishing, Phil hears Tommy calling in the distance. "PHIL?..." shouted Tommy on the porch. Phil decided to go where the little one was so there wouldn't be a screaming socialization. "Yeah, mate?" Pointing his finger out, Tommy continued:

"Why is [Name] outside in the rain?"—"WHAT-"

Looking out, there it was, an extremely small child walking across the yard and heading to the little house. Phil had frozen. But, before Phil had a heart attack, Techno had sensed your approach and caught you quickly before you got any more soaked and brought you in hastily.

Both Techno and Wilbur were very confused as to why you had come there, but that question was soon answered when you rested your head on Techno's shoulder.

"Aww, they came because of you Techno~" said Wilbur touching his heart and holding himself not to pinch his cheeks. Scowling, Techno complained—"Bruh, my new clothes."

[cherry-liss]

Hello I was wondering if you could do this !

Sleepy bois x Little sister headcaons

Sleepy Bois x Little Sister HCs! |

DSMP/ Dream SMP : Ph1LzA,Tommy,Techno,Wilbur x Little Sibling!Reader

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

request from anon!! hey hey! focused on school but im back!! thank u anon for this request. i enjoyed doing this one!! hope u have a good day/night~!!! <33

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

These boys would probably suck at having a little sister at first, i mean, they're violent that's for sure. but for sure, Phil's a good father figure for you.

Techno, the overprotective one. wilbur the older and probably tries to be mature and role model one. and tommy.... well tom's there.

First off, Tommy will probably try not to swear much but fails, so you'll probably swear too at a young age.

Technoblade will teach you how to fight and hunt for food, but he's a good older brother tbh

Wilbur will try his best to be a good role model but also swears uncontrollably much.

Tommy and Wilbur always pick fights, sometimes you'd hear them scream at each other and say "FUCK YOU" at each other.

But whenever you're hurt or when Dream or some bad guy hurts you, these boys will kill them, for sure.

"Big bro, Dadza's calling you in a mad way!" You say to Tommy or Wilbur, they respond with "Shh... tell them I'm not here!"

You're probably Phil's favourite out of the four of you.

If you're going out, at least on of your bro's has to come with you. You can't do anything about it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

words: 202 characters: 1,077

this ones a little short, sorry!!

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ~ cherry~liss

[lilywastaken]

⇝ MCYT MASTERLIST !

my works are sfw unless stated otherwise. please do not repost, copy or translate any of them. thank you. <3.

⇝ requests are open !

⇝ find my latest work here !

⇝ back to nav !

— DREAMWASTAKEN.

fics:

artic cold: [ spending 50 hours in antarctica wasn't on your list of things to do this month, but neither was sharing a sleeping bag with your crush. ] [ 5.8K ]

blurbs:

mornings: [ mornings with your boyfriend are always heavenly. suggestive! ]

— HEADCANONS + SCENARIOS.

cuddling + sleeping hcs: [ includes: dream, sapnap, george & tommy. ]

sick day scenarios: [ includes: dream, sapnap, george, quackity & karl. ]

love languages hcs: [ includes: dream, sapnap & george. ]

[fanfictionnerdfortoomanythings]

I lied, here I was saying that I only liked isekai manhwa and crimeboys but I've officially deep-dived through like 50 other fandoms, so expect my dash to completely change fandom-wise out of literally nowhere. the tags are just full of fandoms I am invested in.

[victoria1676]

Okay imagine this in the SAGAU with the sbi family playing uno, just a whole bunch of screaming, screeching and yelling of rage with blood sweat and tears all together. In other words just pure chaos, think about what the acolytes reactions they just stand there flabbergasted.

Wheeze i can just imagining this happening in the soft au where SBI family visits and are vibing on Reader's new built home.

Honestly i feel like this could happen when on of the Acolyotes visit and then suddenly they heard shouting along with curses and then something bring smacked followed by cries of agony which was the last straw for one of the acolyotes to legit break the door open and try to see what has happened inside their Gods home.

And what they saw was not what they expected.

Legit you can see Reader just fuming in rage holding 20 cards while Wilbur is just laughing is ass off with Tommy who has 14 cards with him while Philza just pulled a 4+ plus card made Reader grin evilly as she pulled another 4+ card causing it to be 8 cards and now Techno pulled another 4+ plus card to make it 16+ cards causing Wilbur to curse saying "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" Everyone started laughing so hard at Wilbur's misery.

Reader: Karma is a bitch Willy boy!!

Legit almost all Acolyotes are just flabbergasted thinking that there was a threat inside their God's home only just to see the family playing some kind of card game?

Rubedo who is in the background wiping his tears from laughing at the chaos as you could see almost all crows seem to have fallen over in laughter while one of them is coughing from laughing from the chaos.

Yep just another day and another chaotic family day of the Sbi family playing the broken friendship card game Uno 😂😂😂😂👌👌👌

[evilspiritsgoneloose]

I didn't know you would request the third part like crazy xD, but I finally finished it after rewriting it like 5 times.

This will also be the end of the trilogy because I literarily don't have any idea more how it could continue.

Anyway, I hope you all will like it as much as the other parts

Stay hydrated and keep being awesome :D

A Little Note For You Pt.3 (End)

(SBIxFamilyMember!Reader)

_______

!Warning! Bullying, Swear words, Violence, Blood, Grammatical Errors (please just oversee them, if there are there)

Characters Mentioned Philza, Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit, Technoblade, (Secret Person)

Summary The Bully strikes again, but will not laugh after it.

Word Count 2,139

________

Part 1 | Part 2 |

Masterlist

All of your brothers stood around you, looking at the ground where the boy was laying. No one said a thing for like a minute until Tommy began to spoke, "What was that"? As random as this even just was, you felt the eyes of your older brothers on you. You didn't know why they were starting at you but you felt the urge to just escape them and run. Run after the mysterious boy.

But you did nothing. "Let's nothing interpret something into it" Wilbur spoke "could have just been made up to humiliate Y/n" he sighed "that mammal is up to no good"

Your brother were about to head to their next class, "Are you coming?" Techno called you out. You didn't realize they were moving. Thought over thought occupied your brain. Could the boy be the secret admirer, or did someone have a crush on you. It has to be the first

You snapped back into reality as Techno laid a hand on your shoulder. You immediately looked up to him with a questionable look.

"It already rang to the next class, hurry or you will be late" With a simple nod you opened your locker again. The folded letter flew out and fell to the ground. A little heart was seen on the top.

Everyone was gone by now, only you remained. So you thought. Just as you bend down to pick up the letter, a foot stepped on the paper. Nearly hitting your fingers. You looked up only to the bully.

"Look how we have here, a human who hides behind their brothers and can't do anything on their own"

"Leave me alone. I never did you any harm"

He laughed "as if you could hurt me, you're merely only bones" he began to flex his arms "I on the other hand have all the muscles. I could beat you in an instant" he looked down at you and saw what your intention was until he interrupted.

"You were picking something up? Oh! Let me get it for you"

The bully raised his shoe. You tried to grab it before he could but he was faster.

"Give it back" you demanded with a hand open.

He held the folded paper, halfway unfolded it, "or what? You're going to shout for your brothers"

With a mischievous grin, he got closer, nose nearly touching yours.

"Give it back, I don't want to hurt you"

The bully just laughed at you, "You? Trying to hurt me?" He laughed again "baby, I wouldn't do it, I could beat you into hospital" He held the paper above himself "You're lucky that I spare you, I don't beat pussies"

Your mood got shifted by 180 degrees, "But I do" was the last thing the bully heard before a strong kick pressed him into the lockers. Immediately after, he received a well deserved punch in the face.

God bless you for training a lot with Technoblade. For self-defense, as he called it.

Just for your luck, a teacher saw you hitting him and got alerted. "Y/n Minecraft, to the director! Now!" The teacher also pointed to the bully, "you too!"

The teacher walked away to the office, as Mr. I-can-beat-you pushed you away and said an angry "Thank you, ass"

Half an hour later, you sat in the office with Phil and the mother of the bully.

The mother was crying about how someone could be so hostile against her little baby boy.

Both you and Phil knew arguing against her would lead into a wall out of pure frustration.

The behaviour of her son was well known around the school. Everyone, even the teachers, were on bad terms with him, but of course mother only thinks he could never do harm to someone.

You grin inside you over the cute pet names. Great blackmail if you would ask me.

As the meeting was over, the bell rang for the next break.

Outside were your Brothers, waiting for you. They were surprised as you left the building with Phil. Because of Tommy, they already know why Phil was here with that look on his face. A face of disappointment.

Phil only said hello to his sons and left as quickly as possible. Now all six eyes are pointed towards you.

"What did you do?!" Tommy shouted.

"I punched someone"

Wilbur and Techno, mostly Will, looked at you in shock.

"Who?" Tommy wanted to know

"School bully" you only said, but all three knew who you mend.

Now techno was alerted. Never had you punched someone without a proper reason, "what did he do?"

"Not much. Only words" you sighed, "can we please talk about something else. Dadza already gave me a lesson and I don't want another one from you guys"

"Yeah, yeah, quit complaining" Tommy started "what ever this dude did, he deserves every bit of what you've done"

The next hours ended very quickly, and the next school day began just as fast.

You thought you would have a typical Schoolday, but oh boi were you wrong. Somehow, information got leaked about you fighting the Bully. And as soon as you entered the school ground, everyone looked at you.

Some looked shocked, some looked at you as if you were the hero. But none came up to you to talk, They all just stared.

"Don't all have something better to do" Tommy called out and now everyone looks away again.

All day you could hear talking around and about you. You hoped for another letter from the secret admirer, but nothing came. As if they never existed.

You felt sad. Upon not knowing who he was, you secretly wished for him to continue giving you letters with sweet nothing's on it.

You wanted to find out who he is. Hold him and have a great time together, maybe even go on a date. You sighed, thinking it would be all over now. All because of some Shit-eating ass that made him embarrassed.

The day stretched like gum, but a smile hushed over your lips as the bell rang, calling it the end of school. You just wanted to dump your stuff in the locker and get home. As you opened the locker, a letter was seen on top of your books. First you thought it was the one from yesterday, but then you remembered that the letter is actually in your pencil case.

You took the paper and unfolded it. What's written on it made you cry a single tear.

Hi Y/n

I first didn't want to write you today out of fear I get caught and bullied again. But all day you had been sad and I don't want you to be sad anytime. Please smile. Smile so your eyes shine in the sun again. Smile so your beautiful dimples are shown.

Yours Sincerely

While reading, you began to smile at how cheesy some lines were. But they made you happy nonetheless. You put the letter in your pocket and dumped the book in the looker. Ready to go home.

You had to go alone because Tommy and Will had lessons off and Techno still had Club activities. Thou, it didn't bother you at all, so you could still come down from your little smiling and red cheeks phase, without Tommy teasing you about it. The words from the letter occupied your mind almost the whole way home.

You were interrupted and ribbed back to reality as you heard a familiar voice shout.

It came from behind a wall, so you tried to climb it and look over. But curiosity kills the cat. The Bully was there again, with someone you couldn't quiet define. To your luck, one of the Bully's followers spotted you and made everyone aware. Just as your name got called, the mood of the bully shifted. He looked straight into your eyes and he looks like he's about to kill.

As fast as possible, you tried to run away and hide, but the other one was faster and grabbed you be the collar. He pulled you back with pure force. Breathing was hard for a second.

"Do you think you can just get away after what you did to me!" He clearly sounds mad "Because of you I'm not allowed to go to parties any more!" He drags you further behind the wall "You're gonna have to pay for your actions"

The Bully pushed you against the wall and pressed you down onto the ground. Just now, you could see who he was harassing before. It was the Boy from yesterday, the secret admirer. You recognized his face. He was in your class but you hadn't had a name connected to the face.

First, the Bully slapped you with his backhand, and he then squished your face against the wall. His goons hyped him up even more. You were in a tricky situation and weren't even able to defend yourself.

Barely seconds after, a punching sound could be heard and then felt how you got freed from the bully. You saw some pink hair for a second and after heard it some terrified screams from some followers.

As you came back to your senses, you realized what had happened. Technoblade had the Bully in his left hand, raised from the ground. He then let go, causing the bully to land on his butt. Techno looked town at him like the rubbish that he is. "I hope to never see you laying your filthy hands on my sibling again. Do you understand me?" He just nods and then sprints away out of fear.

Techno goes over to you and helps you up. You immediately hug him. "Are you okay?" he asked worried. You let go and look up at him "Yeah, only a few scratches"

You looked back to the boy from your class. His back was facing you and he was about to leave.

"Hey you!" You called. He stops immediately and slowly turns around, "You mean me?"

He had a busted open lip, which was bleeding badly also had a lot of dirt on his skin. Both of you looked very beaten up.

Besides the dirt and the scratched, he was gorgeous and handsome. How did he never get your attention? You felt stupid.

You got closer to him to have a proper look at his wounds, "We should get these treated" you could see how his eyes were fixated onto you. Disbelieve and nervousness could be seen in them. Your hands reached out to his arms, also checked them for any injuries. "Y/n" he called out your name so sweet and quiet, it made you stop your heart for a second.

One of your hands locked with his and you dragged him out of this horrible place and onto the streets.

Both of you sat down at the pavement. Techno was one step ahead and brought some supplies to clean both of your Injuries up. As the good brother he his, he helped you with the spots in your face.

Just as Techno was finished, his phone rang. Phil had called him to go into the next supermarket and get something for supper. He said goodbye to you and left you in awkwardness.

The boy had the medical supplies in his hand, but hadn't started cleaning up yet.

"Um... should I help you?" you asked. His heart was racing as fast as a Formula One car. So was yours. Without a word, he gave you the supplies and you started to treat his injuries. Neither of you talked about anything. There was just pure awkward silence, Thick pure awkward silence. As it was finished he simply said a "Thank you" but that was everything.

You sat there for a good amount of minutes until you couldn't hold it in any more, "You know... You always made my day with this little letters" He smiles down to the ground. "I'm glad they made you smile" He took in a deep breath in and out "I mean every word I wrote"

Again silence.

He couldn't see it because he was still staring at the ground, but your cheeks heated up and turned red.

You collected your shit together and tried to not let out a squeal. "I never got your name?"

"Karl"

You felt brave and placed a hand on his own one. Karl turned his head around to you. Pink cheeks are visible on both of your faces. Eyes are locked together for like a minute until you two simultaneously laughed.

The awkward tension flew away and Karl initiated to hold your hand. "Do you maybe want to go on a date?" You looked back into his eyes with a smile and said "Of course, I would love to"

The End

______

Masterlist

PS: I also take requests. Running low on ideas right now.

Leave a heart and follow if you like. It’s free and… YouCanAlwaysUnfollowLater (sry… Not)

[amyelevenn]

Christmas

PAIRING; c!SBI x gn!reader

SUMMARY; you stumble upon the minecraft household a few days before Christmas rather hurt.

WARNINGS; graphic description of blood and injury, light angst

A/N; one of my faves i've written <33 hope you enjoy as always

1.9k words - M.LIST

Running was never a fun task. Whether it was in a race or from a deadly pursuer, it was never something you seemed to enjoy. The ache of your legs, the burning of your lungs, the pounding of your heart… I mean, who could blame you?

But to you, running was especially invigorating when it was away from mobs. It always terrified you that they were out for your blood, and didn’t help when you had the occasional arrow whiz past your ear, 9/10 times nicking the skin. At this point, you were surprised you still had ears.

You had been running for what felt like days, but in reality would’ve only been hours. You didn’t allow yourself to stop, knowing that if you did, well, you be dead in a multitude of seconds. Considering you seemed to have journeyed right into mob-central, you couldn’t see a future where you did stop and made it out alive.

It also didn’t help that your ankle was gradually bleeding out from a creeper blast you gained less than an hour into your journey. With that same explosion, your pretty sure that your hearing got screwed up in one of your ears, which really fucking sucks. You also had a black eye, but that hadn’t swollen up yet, so you paid it no mind.

Many – way too many – mobs were on your tail, and it didn’t help that you were running right into a snowy forest. The trees seemed to cop most of the snowfall, but the foliage didn’t collect all of the white powder that piled up to your shins.

You ducked as another arrow flew over your head, aimed straight for your skull. You shuddered at the thought of it piercing through your bones, but kept up your unsteady pace. Weaving in and out of the trees proved much harder in the snow, but you were determined to not die in the middle of nowhere.

Almost as if right on que, light flooded your vision. Not just any light, but that of a torch; a beautiful sign of life. Human life. And you knew that human life could equal help.

Or death.

You felt your adrenaline peak, using what strength you had left to get to the light. It didn’t take long to be surrounded by trees lit by the small fires, but you didn’t stop there. They seemed to be lighting a path, one you didn’t hesitate to follow. Within mere paces, the sounds of your chasers dispersing met your ears, clearly not appealed at your sudden escape.

As the groans of displeasure quietened around you, you noticed yourself slowing down. You willed yourself forward, hyperaware of the fact that if you stopped here, you would more than likely die of hypothermia.

The snow was much thinner on the man-made path, which made it so much easier to run through. You were more than grateful for whomever carved the way, hopping that they would be showered in their greatest desires. It sounded a bit extreme, but your emotions were working overtime, so who cared for an extra bit of gratitude?

You became aware of the torches thinning out ahead of you, but soon realised that was because the forest ended here. Not long after, you were in the middle of a clearing, the moon now being your only source of light. That is, apart from the glowing windows of the house in the distance.

You were more than ecstatic at the face of civilisation. Mustering what little energy you had left, you trudged through the snow and to the cottage. The outside had a few lanterns at the base of the stairs leading to the patio, but the main source of illumination were from what appeared to be the kitchen window. You couldn’t see anyone behind them, but as you steadily approached, you could make out faint voices echoing around the house.

Your ankle was starting to ache, the adrenaline wearing off, agony deciding to take its place.

You had made it halfway from where the forest line had broken and where the building was placed, when you sensed that you weren’t alone any longer. And by sensed, you meant the fact that an arrow was sent flying mere millimetres past your arm. You had gotten lucky for now, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. It never did in your case.

Just make it to the house, you thought.

But alas, you never would. That is, at least, not on your own.

Turning back for just a second, you got a glimpse of who was attempting to take your head; two skeletons and a creeper.

With the throbbing of your foot (and your eye beginning to swell shut), you were now much slower than before. There wasn’t much you could do, but turn and fight. Although, that wasn’t the smartest option either, considering you didn’t have a shield and the only weapon you had on hand was an iron sword. It would have to do.

Taking a few quick deep breaths in a feeble attempt to calm your pounding heartbeat, you turned to face the oncoming threats. The first arrow was easy enough to dodge, the second being the same. The third however, not so much. The tip managed to lodge itself in your thigh, and it went in deep. An involuntary yelp escaped your lips, loud enough to gain some attention.

With the arrow head still in your leg, you swung your sword at the closest skeleton, slightly proud of yourself as you watched it turn to dust at your feet. But your victory was short lived, the all too familiar hiss of a creeper way to close for comfort. Before you had time to register what was happening, you were being thrown away from your position, landing hard on your back.

Hard enough to knock the wind out of your lungs, leaving you spluttering and gasping. Hard enough to easily give you a concussion. Hard enough for something in your shoulder to crack, most likely a broken bone. Hard enough to somehow make you cough up blood, something you should be much more concerned about.

But you weren’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to be, the pain and agony being too fresh to be able to focus on anything else. A harsh wave of anguish washed over you from head to toe, sending unpleasant shivers over your whole body.

You couldn’t move, either. With the blood dripping from the arrow head in your thigh, your mangled ankle, swollen black eye, heaving chest, pounding headache, and what feels like a broken shoulder, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to get up and keep going.

At least this wouldn’t be the worst way to die. The snow falling from the sky blended in nicely with the stars, a wonderful blur of white. A quiet sigh escaped your lips, and you let yourself close your eyes.

What you didn’t hear was multiple pairs of feet shuffling to your side, carrying you into the warmth of the fire lit in the cabin you had come so close to making it too.

Calloused hands lay you down on a pillow next to the raging flame whilst another pair scanned you for any major injuries. To their surprise, they were greeted with many more than they had anticipated (and wanted). Six major injuries was what the counted, with heaps more smaller cuts and bruises. How you were still alive was a miracle to them.

The same calloused hands began to work away at the wounds, trying their best to keep the blood in and keep the pain out, which proved to be a very difficult task. In the end there were two people helping you out, the other two either to stubborn or plainly told to stay away.

After multiple strenuous hours of stitching, cleaning, mending and bandaging, they deemed you fit enough to be left by the comfort of the fire. Despite how shallow your breathing was, they were just happy that your chest was moving up and down at all. Whoever it was that had taken you in prayed that what they did was enough to keep you alive for now.

One stayed on the couch near you, the remaining three scurrying off to their rooms to retreat for the night.

Considering it was around midnight when you had been found, it wasn’t much of a surprise when day broke not long after the stranger sat with you had finally clasped an inkling of sleep. Although it was much to their dismay, they brushed it off to start the households usual daily routine, as if there wasn’t a broken soul curled in on themselves by the fire.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Meal after meal passed, yet you didn’t seem keen on waking any time soon. Your rescuers were worried for your health, despite the steady healing of your many war wounds. You seem to look a bit thinner than you originally had, but that could’ve been the mindless delusion.

Dusk of the third day, you stirred. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for the quartet to catch it in their peripheral vision. They had been in the middle of their feed, chatting about their day when your arm curled further around your body, almost as if you were trying to hug – comfort – yourself. They each sent each other a knowing look – that it was time to wake you up. Or at least try.

The same pair of scarred and calloused hands from earlier were the ones to shake your good shoulder gently, attempting to awaken you from your slumber. They rolled you over, so you were lying on your back.

A tired yawn emitted quietly from your lips, your eyes struggling to open. The first thing you felt was a weary euphoria, the type you would feel after waking up from a much needed midday nap. However short lived the warmth is, you bask in the intoxication as it slips through your fingers and moulds into agony.

Opening your eyes, you groan as your whole body floods with aches and pains. It takes a second to soak in your surroundings, and the four strangers awkwardly sitting by you. You don’t recognise one thing nearby and come rather quickly to the conclusion that this isn’t somewhere you had been before.

Maybe it was a dream, and you were really dead. Honestly, a win for everyone.

“Hey mate, how ya doin’?” the man in front of you pipes up, a kind smile wrinkling his older features. You notice that your hearing is completely gone in one ear and fuzzy in the other, but you can’t think of as to why that is. You don’t respond, unable to find your voice. “Oh-… er, do- do you speak English?” he asks, tilting his head inquisitively.

You make no move to reply, staring at him blankly. Everything stays still and quiet for a moment, when another, taller man moves his hands. He is gazing down at you from where he is standing by a couch, appearing to be… signing to you. He falters for a second, muttering to himself and correcting his movements. He stops, looking at you expectantly.

You had learnt basic sign language when you were younger, but you couldn’t remember where or who from. Lifting your hand instinctively to reply, you wince at the stabbing pain electrifying your shoulder.

“Tommy, grab the med kit,” you hear a new voice instruct, but focus more on the fatigue now bubbling in your stomach.

What a fun way to wake up.

[elliot-needs-sleep]

no thoughts, head empty, reader who can’t cook. like i imagine everyone on the server can cook to varying levels of quality but in the end it is all edible no matter what they do. but not reader-

it can be angsty if you would so desire, like maybe reader was raised by dream and never learned to cook because he wanted them to be completely dependent on him for survival or maybe reader is a workaholic who never had the time to teach themself and therefore is used to just eating vegetables and horribly undercooked and/or overcooked meat that they’ve developed an immunity to the side effects because of how much their body is used to it. or maybe it’s just haha funny and a running joke that reader can’t cook (maybe they’re a blaze hybrid with hotter flames than most and therefore can’t get the temperature right for cooking, your choice!).

it’s just a fun little idea i came up with that i’m giving you full reign to have fun with :D

yours truly,

gremlin anon

This is a mood except I am a great cook /hj

Fic type: Headcannons

Characters: SBI (Philza, Techno, Tommy, Wilbur)

Fandom: DSMP

"How do you live like this" was the first thing Philza said when he walked through the door. He was only mildly disappointed (after all, he did have to teach Wilbur and Tommy to cook)

Mostly because you were frantically opening windows and fanning out smoke with a hand towel.

In your defense, you were a blaze hybrid like Sapnap and had FAR less control over the flames you could create

He takes over to at least make you something edible, especially after you burnt a steak into a charred piece of meat.

Techno honestly just found it amusing to watch you struggle because you're just a hilariously bad cook.

Will he make you something to eat when you inevitably under or overcook something? Probably. He might not care that much.

He does feel a bit bad, but overall he thinks that you getting angry enough to through whatever you were making out the window is the funniest thing he ever saw

Wilbur CAN cook, but doesn't like to and honestly coukd care less about how badly you do

L'manburg Wilbur specifically would probably offer to help

Ghostbur would try to cheer you up and keep you from throwing a rock hard piece of meat at a wall

Revivedbur? He'd make fun of you. Guaranteed. No question. He thinks its hilarious how bad you are, but unlike Techno he would actively tease you about it

Tommy is also a bad cook. No contest. But he IS better than you are.

He doesn't make fun of you per se, but he will yell at you to get out of kitchen so he can at least make EDIBLE food

He's not too mean about it, and he finds it mildly annoying that you're this terrible

But he also thinks it's just a bit funny too

[yetvalerian]

hi folks I'm trying to reanimate my motivation to write for nanowrimo. if you have any requests for oneshots, drop them in. if you know me from ao3, I do lots of sbi stuff. if you know me from here, you know I'm also into slimecicle and shubble. so that stuff is probably what I can write best for you 👍