The Dream Smp
(Open, Unmoderated)
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Summary
“His Majesty is sending us some hunting dogs?” One of the men of Wil's group asks, similarly uncertain as to how they should take that sort of information. The king has no lack of resources to give, and any help would be desirable, when so far from the capital.
One of the other soldiers gave a small snort, scrunching his nose up. “They’re not proper dogs.” He corrects. “It’s the man-beasts. His creatures that go from man to wolf on a whim.”
Oh, Wilbur thinks, realizing it properly. The hounds of the king.
Werewolves.
(AU were Wilbur is a forced soldier who comes across the king's royal hounds. They're perhaps a bit more similar than they both think.)
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Three little faces. By the doorway. Children?
“Oh.” Phil says, for lack of words, because it’s been a bit of a while since he’s seen kids. Three pairs of wide eyes stare back at Phil, terror given at the bloody display before them, the fangs of his teeth bared, the red splattered over his lips, the still warm body held in his claws.
“Oh, hello.” Phil grins. The smallest one opens his mouth and screams.
(Or, Vampire!Phil is trying to get by in a zombie apocalypse with the great lack of humans. He decides to try raising his own food supply, after finding three kids. It’s definitely not adoption. No, not at all. (Well, maybe just a bit.))
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There’s the voice, Phil thinks faintly. So that’s the cause of the screaming, although he already had a hunch this is what was happening. Some unlucky bastard held down to be used as an unwilling offering, a dagger dug straight into the heart. Or- near the heart. He’s dying too slowly for it to be a good stabbing placement.
(Or, Phil is investigating a cult in the name of his lovely wife. Wilbur is the unlucky lamb at the altar.)
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“You’ll find a way.” Wilbur says wryly, his glasses falling lopsided back onto his face, his hands lowering into his lap. He looks up at Techno, expression twisted up in guilt. He hates to refuse him, after all of this, after such clear effort he’s given, Wil wishes he could dare to repay him with something of bravery, but- “You always do. You’ll find a solution.”
“...You’re my solution.” Technoblade murmurs quietly, something of grief scattered over his gaze.
(Or, project hail mary au)
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There’s something coming through the forest. It’s a rustling of the tallest tree branches, and a low rumbling through the dirt under their feet. There’s a groan, some aching, deep voice echoing out, but it’s not human. It’s quite an animal, either. Technoblade wants to name it as a bear, but he can see the movement of it far off ahead, see the shape of it through the woods, and it’s not-
That’s not a bear.
(Or, sbi form a wonderful found family relationship. this is because of the fact they're barely surviving a horror movie scenario together)