dream smp oneshots and unfinished fics

wither poisoning (unf.)

George never realized that wither poisoning would hurt as much as it looked in the game.

Unfortunately for him, it most certainly does, and it's taking all of his willpower to not scream bloody murder and wisk all of their lives by alerting every single wither skeleton in the Nether. He instead opts to grit his teeth in pain, hobbling away from the oncoming foe as fast as he can in the opposite direction, clutching his bleeding right arm as tightly as possible without shattering his bones.

Glancing around, he isn't met with the normal yellow color of Dream's jacket, the black and white of Sapnap's outfit, or the black and yellow of Bad's cloak. He's only met with the dark grey Nether fortress walls, twisting corners and seemingly endless halls. The Wither poisoning gnaws past the relatively shallow cut on his skin, no, it seeps into his bones and makes them feel brittle, as if the mere force from his feet hitting the ground would be able to break his arm into thousands of pieces. If it didn't hurt so much, he could almost say the light, hollow feeling feels nice.

Of course, it definitely hurts, and he definitely doesn't think it feels nice. Feeling this... fragile definitely isn't something he's used to, especially since starting Minecraft, where hearts regenerate quicker than you can blink and jumping from trees does little to your health. Tears prick at the corner of George's eyes, his chest heaving as he blindly makes his way through the twists and turns of the Nether fortress, running past already scavenged chests and blocked off sections and trying to get out , trying to escape from the clattering of bones echoing from all sides.

"D-Dream - ha, hha, Dream, Sapnap, c'mon, where are you all --" George's mutters are cut off by coughing -- the smoke and general lack of oxygen in this other dimension are none-too-forgiving, especially when one is already pushing himself by running through this maze of horrors. He doesn't have the time to dwell on it for too long, though, because the coughing made him lose time, and losing time means the skeletons and the blazes and everything else that's trying to kill him has even more time to do so. Losing time is unforgivable when your life is capable of ending at any given moment.

George flies up the second set of stairs he's seen so far, rushing past the small pit of lava and is thrown out into the open, the Nether fortress ending abruptly in the next corridor. For once, he's thankful to see the drab grey of the netherrack that resembles the Nether's dirt, the dull gold flooding his vision as he glances over to the endless seas of lava to the right, and the large quantities of zombie pigmen that lull about without a care in the world. He speeds past them, jumping down to get as far away from that deathtrap of a fortress as possible, as the skeletons wouldn't just immediately leave him alone. He continues to run, running without thinking until he physically has to stop himself so he can breathe .

He hisses as he feels the pain of the cut still in his arm, the adrenaline no longer masking the full impact of it. He twists his arm to get a better look at it and lets out a small gasp, wincing. It...it really isn't a shallow cut at all. The wound is deep and clean, a perfect, precise slice. The blood smeared across his elbow and forearm is hardly of concern, considering the dark grey tinted veins that seem to be spreading from the wound. Not to mention the aching, light, brittle feeling that turns into a searing pain when he tries to twist his arm slightly further -- he stops, and lets it far to the side. It feels like it'll break at even the tiniest bit of impact, and he'd really rather not test to see if his theory is true.

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i literally only posted this (knowing that I've scammed the readers by making it not dream smp related) so that I could put this on the record and PRAY that I'm correct:I, ENDERWOAH, ON 12/28/20 AT 8:15PM EST, PREDICT THAT RANBOO IS GETTING HIS ASS EXECUTED TOMORROW AT THE FESTIVAL. PLEASE, I WANT IT TO HAPPEN SO BAD.