21 - 40 of 47 Works by MasterRed
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It's raining, when they’re exiled.
Ranboo has his suit jacket pulled over his head, and when droplets slip through to the tips of his claws he hisses and jitters. Sometimes, it almost looks like he'll disappear and reappear, like the endermen he so resembles, but instead he falls to the ground with a pained screech, the calves of his feet burning on impact with the sodden ground where his skirt isn’t long enough to protect.
Still gripping painfully onto Tommy's arm, Dream slowly walks back to where he fell and hits him with the butt of his axe. The screech of pain is distorted, almost otherworldly, and it’d be terrifying if it wasn’t so fucking sad.
“Get up,” he hisses. “Or I'll fucking kill you, and then-“
Dream doesn’t have to finish his sentence. Shakingly, Ranboo gets onto their talons, wincing as they try and match the brutal pace Dream immediately sets back on.
(Tommy tried to save Ranboo. He really did. He'd said it was all him, he lied, but Ranboo had confessed, trying to get him out of this mess, and now he was in it too.)
(He wants to be sick.)
——
Or, Exile Arc if Ranboo was also exiled for griefing George's house.
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smoke leaving its trail thins nearly into nothing but it never truly dies by MasterRed
Fandoms: Dream SMP
04 Jul 2023
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Tommy curled up into himself instinctively, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I'm sorry, Dream, I really fuckin' am, I’m so so sorry-“
“Tommy.” His voice went dark for a second, and Tommy let out a noise akin to a cornered animal. “It’s your birthday. You don’t have to say sorry about anything.” And like that, he was kind again, and there was nothing wrong in the world except Tommy.
“It's just- it must have been important for you and I know you get upset when I forget that stuff, and- and I don’t wanna be a fucking waste, y’know, you took me in out of the kindness of your own heart. I gotta repay that somehow.”
“Tommy, being here is payment enough.” Dream held out his hand, and instinctively Tommy leant his head into the palms, letting Dream ruffle his hair affectionately. It meant “I'm not gonna hurt you,” and Tommy let out a sigh of relief. It was a good day, then.
——
Or, in a universe where Dream and Tommy really did become immortal together, they celebrate Tommy's birthday for the first time in centuries.
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Charlie is eight when he first shows up in the cabin.
Charlie is nine when he first shows up in the cabin.
Charlie is ten, then ten again, then again and again and again when he wakes up in the cabin.
——
Charlie's childhood with Showfall Media- from his perspective.
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Metaru's Primeboys Genre of Fanfiction One Shot Collection by MasterRed
Fandoms: Dream SMP
25 May 2023
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Based off of r/fanfiction daily April prompts challenge, this is a series of bite-sized c!Primeboys fics for (hopefully) each of the prompts- five each for angst, fluff, humour, relationships (platonic in this case obviously), canon universe, and alternative universe. Each chapter has its own specific tags and summary as they’re their own individual short one shot!
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Dream: I’m your creator. I spent years programming you, Tommy.
Tommy: So… you’re sorta like my dad, I guess?
Dream chuckled.
Dream: I suppose.
Tommy: It’s nice to meet you, Dream. I guess.
Tommy stuck his tongue out and put his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes, and Dream fell in love a little more. God, he really was like a stubborn teenager. Maybe Dream was barely older than that- he was sixteen when he’d started working on Tommy, and he’d based parts of the program off of himself- but he still felt something that must have been paternal affection bubbling in his chest at the idea of being this program’s father.
Dream: I’m so glad to meet you, Toms.
Tommy: >:/ Don’t call me that. It sounds fuckin’ STUPID.
Dream: I’m sorry, Tommy.
Tommy: That’s right. Because I am always correct ^_^
—
Or, in the far future, a lonely programmer creates an AI child for themselves, and things go *incredibly well.*
For the May 2023 r/Fanfiction prompt challenge!
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Flippa normally gets tired so, so easily. Even on her medication, there’s rarely something she’s not at least mildly allergic to, and she doesn’t eat enough, she knows that. Yet, she pulls herself up to the tippy-top of the pillar with ease. The view isn’t beautiful, like the one from Papa’s home, but it is a view of fire and destruction and Juanaflippa can get used to that. She curls her arms around her knees and closes her eyes. She misses Mama and Papa and Tilín so much. She just wants to go home. But she can’t. And she’ll be alone forever, and maybe she deserves that. Deep down, she knows she’s a bad egg.
And then something soft and feathery collides into her.
Tilín.
—
Or, two best friends meet in Hell, and find it is not so bad with each other.
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“Tommy.” The slight venom behind a cheerful tone was enough to make it click who it was even in Tommy's sleep deprived mind, and no no no no no no no no no no no no he’s not dying again he’s not he’s not he’s not he’s not he’s not.
“I'm sorry Dream, I'm sorry, please please please I'll be good I'll be good please don’t kill me again please-“
“Shh. Tommy, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm just worried.”
“Well, it's your fault I have nightmares, y’know.” Tommy groaned and raised his head off the thin mattress, glaring at Dream. He tried not to think about the dark-red stain covering his overalls. “You ruined me.”
“I fixed you. Or I tried to.” Dream sighed, sounding almost guilty. Almost. “It's hard, I know. So, so hard. But I was- well, y’know, trying to test you. It was to make you become better, y’know. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, you ever heard about that?”
“Well. You did kill me.”
“Semantics.” Dream scoffed.
——
Or, Tommy has a nightmare while trapped in the prison lockdown, and Dream comforts him (for a questionable definition of comfort.)
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measuring the marigolds (letting their code take root in you) by MasterRed
Fandoms: Dream SMP
26 Feb 2023
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The idea of being alone again after so long felt like an agony scarring through them, corrupting the land themself. No, they would never let their first real friend, one who was separate from themselves, yet respected every part of them and not just their admin puppet, out of its grasp. Not ever.
Vaguely, it recognised the bubbling feeling in their core as the ones it had read described in the books it had used as substitutes for companionship. Ones mortals felt for their young, a mentor to their protege, an older sibling to a younger. A mix of affection, responsibility, pride, and the admiration one felt towards a lesser- like how Tommy cooed over how cute half the animals he came across were when he thought nobody was watching.
(But Dream always was. They saw everything, every inch of the server, since they were every inch of it, but their focus was always on the kindness and respect the mortal showed.)
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Or, Dream is an admin of the server, and has been for billions of years. Tommy is its favourite mortal, yet it doesn’t exactly know the best way to show that.
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“Dear Dream,” they always begin, written more like the author knew vaguely those were the words used to begin a letter instead of their actual meaning, the politeness contrasting with the rest of the text, even the elegant, clearly heavily practiced font different to the childlike chickenscratch the rest was written in.
“Today I saw you on the telly and I thought you were poggers,” one might say, before going into naive fantasies about how cool it must be to be famous. “Wilbur said I shouldn’t try and be like you but I made my own mask,” another might, a mix of fawning idolisation and immature complaining about overbearing family members.
What first seemed like the ramblings of any young fan- he had plenty from his Manhunts- eventually turned into a fascinating puzzle.
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Or, how c!Tommy joined the server (and how c!Dream looks back on it, years down the line).
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INTRODUCTION
Hi! If you’ve clicked on this article, I presume you’re a deity looking for a new pet, and you’re either unfamiliar with pet ownership or just owning mortals. Mortals are an excellent choice of pet- they’re very low maintenance and can be very intelligent and loving if trained correctly. However, it’d be a mistake to assume from this that they’re effortless to take care of. Mortals present a variety of difficulties for those unfamiliar with their care, and require knowledge and kindness to get the best results. Luckily for you, I’m here for the advice you need!
——
Or, c!Dream falls completely into his God Complex (told through a very chipper advice post).
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i'll suffer in silence for my sins (it's okay, i deserve this) by MasterRed
Fandoms: Dream SMP
15 Jan 2023
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“I want you to leave everyone on this server alone.” Tommy hoped his numbness was mistaken for confidence. “Don’t hurt them, don’t even speak to them. Even, like, BadBoyHalo. I don’t fucking like him, he’s a bitch and he desecrated the Prime Path, but I don’t want you to put him through what I went through. No one deserves that bullshit.”
Dream’s wheezing laughter echoed off the walls. “Tommy- oh, Tommy, that’s hysterical. You’re a comedian, y’know. I’m crying. And what on Prime’s bells do you think you could give me so I could abandon my life’s work? You have no items, no leverage… you don’t even have the discs anymore, do you? What do you even own?”
“Myself.” The word came out as barely more than a whisper, and the implications sat in the air for a while before Tommy spoke again. “I’ll- you can do whatever you want with me. I won’t fight back, I won’t talk back, I’ll do everything you ever fuckin’ ask of me. I won’t try and escape, or anything, as long as you leave my friends- and, honestly, my fuckin’ enemies- alone. I’ll be your- your friend, your puppet, whatever you wanted from me in Exile. Me for them.”
—
Or, an alternate ending where Tommy sacrifices his freedom to Dream.Series
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Tommy, as always, woke up drowning.
Salt water filled his lungs as he struggled to the surface, half hoping he'd never make it. The too-hot air mixed painfully with freezing cold water as he peaked his head above the waves, clawing desperately towards what he hoped was the beach and hoped wasn’t in equal measure. The sand burnt his skin as he crawled onto it, what little was remaining of the rags that were his clothed sodden and ripping further. He vomited a mix of water and what little food he had left in his stomach onto the ground, gagging long after it was empty.
Merry fucking Christmas, he guessed.
——
Or, Christmas in Logstedshire, if c!Tommy never managed to escape.
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A collection for all thirty-one Whumptober prompts I hope to do (might be a la'al bit late on some of the latter ones, sorry). While almost each one takes place in a different universe, or point in canon, each one deals with c!Dream and c!Tommy and their complex dynamic, along with similar themes of twisted family and friendship, so I thought they’d all fit nicely into a single work! Detailed trigger warnings on each one-shot, but please take note of the Dead Dove tag. It applies to all of these.
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“There you go. Now, again, what do you know about mages, Tommy?”
“Well, I know we have powers and shit, obviously. I've got my Sight, Punz has… I'm not really sure, but he has the golden glowy thing. I haven’t really met any other mages, though.” Tommy stuck out his tongue absently as he tried to recall as much as he could. “Uhh, I know that mages can always recognise other mages when they see them. It’s like… a weird, tingly feeling that’s all fuzzy. And we're, like, one in a million. So I'm special and cool and shit.”
Dream chuckled at that, ruffling Tommy's hair suddenly and plainly ignoring how it made him flinch. “You're definitely special, yes. I've never even heard of a mage with powers like yours.”
——
Or, an AU where Tommy is a seer under the “employ” of King Dream, though he doesn’t really have a choice. Tommy longs for freedom, while Dream makes the first friend he's ever had before. Neither of them are okay.
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“Caleb!” Hunter automatically jumps to attention at the sharp sound of his uncles voice, not sure if it’s coming from him or inside his head.
“My name is Hunter, uncle,” he half-thinks, half-says, his voice quiet and soft. “I'm not- I'm not-“
Belos drives the sharp edge of his nails into his-their body, and Hunter can’t flinch from the pain, take a deep breath, only feel the stabbing and the green burning sludge spreading into more of his flesh. “Caleb, do you really think you can play the fool with me? I have known you since the day I was born; I can recognise you from any of those pale imitations.“
——
Or, Belos escapes into the Demon Realm still controlling Hunter's body and, convinced he's Caleb reincarnated, sets to work getting his brother back.
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“I’ll come with you, then! I don’t want to spend another second in this shithole without you. You’re the only reason I’m still alive, man.” Tommy sniffed. “Just please don’t leave me alone again.”
“You can’t.” There was something horribly broken in Tubbo’s voice. “You don’t know what it’s like, but I do. You don’t want to know what would happen if they got their hands on you. Death would be better.”
“Then why are you going, then? Why can you risk that and not me? I’ll- I’ll- I’ll punch ‘em to death! I can protect you if you let me!”
“You don’t understand,” Tubbo said, pained frustration evident. “You’re a human. I’m one of them. To them, I’m kin, and you’re a thing to toy with. I hate it, but it’s my home. And this world is yours.”
—
Tubbo is a changeling who must leave back to the land of Faerie, his home. Tommy, of course, follows him. (He has plenty of time to regret it).
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do not stand at my grave and weep (i am not there, i do not sleep) by MasterRed
Fandoms: Dream SMP
23 Jul 2022
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“There is no such thing as a fate worse than death.
That’s what Dream says, at least, and Tommy’s learnt it’s so much easier to just go along with what Dream says. He’d grown tired of fighting even before his hair had faded fully white. He wasn’t even sure why he ever bothered. Dream was his friend- his older brother in all but blood, really- and he’d always been. He’d reassured him of that over and over again when he couldn’t help but think through the Wrong Memories. Maybe back then he believed them.“
It’s been so, so long since Tommy and Dream abandoned their mortality. Rumours about the Goddess of Death lead them to a seemingly normal village, but the two of them find some eerily familiar faces…
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“ He tried not to look in mirrors anymore. It wasn’t even like when he’d first turned Red, and the sight of his eyes had startled him for a while, made him feel on edge- no one wants to be around a Red, no one trusts a Red- because at least that was natural, normal, as much as the horrific drive to maim and kill, the bloodlust he couldn’t always control hurt. This nothingness, this Grey static across his eyes and streaking through his hair, was a permanent physical manifestation that he was wrong in the eyes of the universe. Something that should not be.
(And perhaps worse than that, it was a reminder of his soul being unravelled at the seams, clumsily ripped from where it was once attached and sewn back together with someone who should not be his soulmate. That’s something, too, that the gods ordained, that one could never change their soulmate bond- sever it, perhaps, but never change- but that fucking green bastard he didn’t even want to think of in the same sentence as soulmates couldn’t allow Tommy just to be a freak of nature defying the life system, he’d rip his own bond apart just to ruin Tommy more.)”
Or, a Double Life AU where Dream and Tommy are soulmates (except they weren't always).
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“ Description: SCP-16792 refers to a pair of anomalous humanoids, though so far only the anomalous properties of SCP-16792-B have been well documented. SCP-16792-A claims to be non-anomalous, with SCP-16792-B being an anomalous being who has been an unwanted presence in its life since a young age, while SCP-16792-B claims to be a Foundation member who became anomalous upon contact with SCP-16792-A. Investigation has produced limited results.”
Or: A c!Primeboys SCP au for the soul.
Can be read fandom-blind for both Dream SMP and the SCP Foundation.
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On the day Philip Wittebane is born, the cattle grow sick.
As he grows, bad omens stick to him like tar. Harsh winters and crops failing. His was a difficult birth, and no child comes after him.
He first hears of witchcraft when he is two years old.
He grabs at something with the wrong hand, and Mother hits him. That, she tells him, is the sign of a witch, and he's already a devil-touched child. If he gives into that temptation, he'll surely fall to sin, and she might as well have him hanged there. He's dragged out to the old birch tree, rope far too long for any sort of execution tied round his neck and the branches. he's left there, until the cold hurts his skin, but he doesn’t cry. He sits quietly and recites what he heard at the sermons in his head.
(Caleb finds him out there, cross legged and calm in the snow, and unties the knots, brings him back into the warmth of the hearth. In the warm fireside light, he looks much how Philip imagines angels to be. Hair and skin so pale as to be lighter than the snow outside, silver eyes almost red, face kind and loving.)
The Wittebane brothers, from childhood to just before the Demon Realm.