dream smp oneshots and unfinished fics

discovery (unf.)

Tommy has no idea how Dream found the room.

It's not like it was expertly hid or anything, but it's not like you can just stumble upon it, either. Then again, Dream always has his way of knowing these kinds of things. He remembers the incident with the trident -- it was a bad idea at the time, of course, hiding the trident in a chest in the ground to keep, but he definitely didn't expect Dream to know about it instantly. When he laughed and asked for the hidden trident back, Tommy thought he was going to be in the most trouble he'd ever been in -- and then Dream gave him the trident anyways. It was almost like he didn't care.

That definitely isn't the vibe he's getting from the masked man right now.

Five inches is so much more of a height difference when the taller person is looming over you, and when you can basically feel the heated waves of anger radiating off of them. Dream's teeth are clenched together, fists balled to the sides of his chest. Tommy hates how small he feels, how every inch of him wants to climb the ladder and get the hell out of that tiny room, running to his thinking room, or the chest room, or through the Nether portal, or back to L'Manburg, because at least that would stop the agonizing, tight ball of anxiety in his chest. There would be no need for anxiety, because he knows for certain that as soon as he steps foot through that first Nether portal, he's running straight off the edge. And if he somehow manages to not, as soon as he gets into L'Manburg, it would be on sight. There's no need for anxiety because he knows that both will result in his death.

It suddenly clicks in his head after too long that he's just crossed the same man who took two out of three of his real lives and has come far too close to taking his final. Who has promised to take his final if he even dares to go back home.

His eyes dart around the room, from the cobblestone walls to the opened chests to the items scattered around everywhere that Dream indubitably threw around in rage upon first seeing it. And then he's suddenly forced out of his wondering by Dream grabbing the front of Tommy's already torn and shredded shirt, yanking him closer. Tommy does nothing to resist, unwillingly flinching at the sharp and sudden movement.

"Tommy, I'm going to ask you one final time," Dream seethes, his voice not raising louder than a mutter but the intent still caring through all too clearly. "What did you make this room for?"

"I -- Dream, I didn't --" Tommy's voice sounds broken and terrified, how he can't stop the tears from springing to his eyes -- that, oddly enough, have little to do with the fear. It's more to do with the guilt. "I'm -- Dream, I'm sorry, I don't, I didn't, I --"

"Answer the fucking question, Tommy!" Dream suddenly sells, shaking Tommy by the front of his shirt and causing him to let out a miserable yelp of fear. Tommy's hands instinctively raise up to loosely grasp Dream's wrists, weakly trying to keep him from "Why couldn't you put this stuff in your chest room, or in the barrels, why is this hidden? If you don't answer me I'm going to kill you. Don't fucking test me."

Tommy lets out a shuddering breath and stares up at Dream with pleading eyes. "Please don't make me say it, please don't kill me, Dream, I'm sorry, please, please."

Tommy, frankly, doesn't know what he's saying 'please' for -- he doesn't think it's because of what he's saying. He supposes it may be something else, but he doesn't want to dwell on it.

Dream keeps one hand on Tommy's shirt, summoning one of his many swords in the other. Tommy can clearly see the glint of the enchants, the runes carved into the sides that he distinctly remembers Phil teaching him when he was younger: Fire Aspect. He doesn't think going up in flames would be a fun way to go out -- or, at least, not when it's coming from a sword. From someone he thought was his friend.

No, who is he kidding -- Dream still is his friend, this is his fault. Dream didn't do anything, and Tommy decided that he would try and go against him for no reason aside from petty grudges. He closes his eyes softly, letting out yet another breath and allowing his shoulders to droop. "Dream, I --" His grip on Dream's hand tightens. "I was gonna -- I was gonna use it to...y'know, fight back. Rebel. When -- when this was all over. I know it's stupid and super shitty of me and I shouldn't have done it and I swear it won't happen again, I'm --"

He's cut short by the look on Dream's face -- he couldn't have prepared himself for that. Dream let's go of his shirt, and Tommy almost topples over, losing his balance. When he looks back up to Dream, he can't help but release a choked sob. The older man has pulled his mask to the side, and Tommy can clearly see the look of hurt reflecting in his eyes. He looks gobsmacked, and his sword disappears from his hand as he tilts his head slightly to the side. "You were going to -- me?"

Tommy only manages violent nods as the tears run freely down his face, his hands reaching up to grasp at the sides of his hair. "'M sorry Dream, I won't do it again, please don't leave, please don't leave."

"Tommy, I've only been nice to you! I haven't -- I was supposed to be here to make sure you weren't starting back up, that you weren't going back to L'Manburg, and I decided to be kind! "

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this is unfinished :D