It was never meant to be... (INACTIVE)

I’m seventeen | use she/her pronouns

I’m always down to be friends if you wanna shoot a dm my way

I am always open for requests, but I do have the right to refuse requests which I feel uncomfortable doing.

✧༺♡༻∞༺♡༻✧

Who I write for

I write fics between characters portrayed by people on the SMP. I do not write for the person themselves or their relationships. I also write a lot of soulmate AUs, soulmate being a very loose term, usually meaning two people connected by some unknown force of nature, whether that be platonic or romantic (in this case usually platonic.) I will not write smut, and I do not know how to write x reader, although i do not mind trying.

✧༺♡༻∞༺♡༻✧

~ Niki Nihachu

~ Karl Jacobs

~ Quackity

~ Sapnap

~ Dream

~ GeorgeNotFound

~ PLATONIC ONLY

~ Tommyinnit

~ Tubbo

~ Ranboo

~ Fundy

~ Purpled

~ Ph1lza

~ Technoblade

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Masterlist

Prompt List

Philza: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule

Tubbo: well, they shouldn't say "all you can eat" if they don't mean it

Bad: Language!

Sapnap: What was I supposed to say, “Woe is I?”

Bad:…

Sapnap: Sometimes swear words are necessary

Drista: You’re right.

Dream *sighs in relief*

Drista: Violence is the question.

Dream: What?

Drista *bolting away*: And the answer is yes.

Was in the mood for some sibling stuff, and also Purpled.

“What do you mean you want to leave?”

Purpled sighed, scuffing his shoes in the dust, not daring to make eye contact with Punz, who he was sure was glaring down at him.

“I knew this was a bad idea, I knew you wouldn’t let me.”

“No, really, tell me what you mean.”

“It… it’s fine.” Purpled turn and ran into the woods surrounding the wooden house, leaving Punz watching the purple hoodie disappear into the shadows.

It didn’t take Punz too long to find Purpled, after all, the two had lived here together since they were basically kids, or since Purpled was 8. They never really had anyone else, an external support system of any kind, but that was alright. They were resourceful, and with nothing but what they had on their backs when they had initially escaped the rough soldier regime, the brothers had made a life for themselves.

The plan to run away had begun growing since Punz was nearly bowled over by Purpled, who was the last person he expected to see in this compound. He was surprised to say the least, both by the sledgehammer of a child and the fact that he was here. He soon learnt that their parents had decided to send Purpled to the academy as well, to be trained into a bloodthirsty killing machine, to be shipped off like a pig to slaughter, and forgotten about. Punz had fumed for days, Purpled was a kid, a literal child, he shouldn’t have to figure out how to fasten his armour straps, stand up straight and still for hours on end, he shouldn’t need to know how to use a sword to kill a man.

Three nights later, the brothers escaped through the window. Punz was 15, and terrified of consequences, but he knew one thing for certain. Purpled had to be safe. They ran and ran, stumbling through sand and rocks, through forests and over rivers, until Purpled could literally run no more. They had kept moving until they thought they were far enough away to never get caught.

After living here for 7 years, you kind of get used to the places each other run when they get scared, or when they need to burn anger. And sure enough, in the clearing, Purpled angrily fenced with a tree.

“You sure you aren’t taking your anger out on the wrong thing?”

Punz spread his arms, half smile on his face as Purpled turned, dropping his sword into the dirt.

“C’mon then.” Punz gestured towards himself, and Purpled rushed over, letting himself be hugged like he was 8 again, and thrown into a new and dangerous world.

Eventually the sky darkened, and in silence, they walked back home.

“So, leaving?” Punz prodded gently, over mashed potatoes and stew.

Purpled set down his spoon, nodding seriously.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to go to Hypixel. It isn’t too far from here, and I think I’m ready.”

Punz had though about relocating the pair to Hypixel before, it was a large country, with a thriving community, and in the beginning, when they had first began building a life, Punz knew of many back alley competitions and fights he could have entered, and maybe brought some money home. But in the end, things worked out, and the thought had been banished from his mind ever since.

“Sleep on it,” Punz found himself saying. “We can decide in the morning.”

Night turned to day, and Purpled stepped outside to find Punz strapping himself up in iron armour, slightly old and dented, but reliable throughout the years.

“Morning…”

“Ah, Purp,” Punz pointed at the other set of armour with his sword. “Put it on. Fast.”

Purpled scrambled into place, fumbling over straps, picking up his sword and taking his place opposite Punz. Their eyes met and they charged into battle.

Purpled was used to fighting against Punz, who had finally given in to teaching him a few years after escaping. They had fought a lot, so Purpled knew Punz’s attack pattern, or at least, he thought he did. No, this Punz fighting was different, harsher. It was determined, and it wasn’t going to let Purpled win without a good fight.

A good fight he was going to get.

Purpled found himself darting around, skirting wide circles around Punz’s swings, letting him tire himself out, and the second he saw an opening, he struck, catching the hilt of his sword and twisting until Punz’s clanged onto the floor, useless, and Purpled’s sword found it’s way under his opponent’s chin.

“Gotcha!”

Punz panted, catching his breath for a second, face splitting into a wide grin.

“You’re more than ready Purpled, get your things together.”

Punz walked Purpled to the main gates of Hypixel in a comfortable silence. As they neared the front of the queue, they faced each other, as if knowing what the other would do.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“Pfft, I’m not going to war, I’m just visiting a country, checking out the sights, maybe making a name for myself.”

Purpled joked, but Punz knew he felt it too. It would be the first time the brothers would separate in 7 years. They got on each other’s nerves and fought a lot, but they were brothers. They loved each other the same.

“Yea,” Purpled’s voice dropped. “I’m going to miss you too.”

“Promise you’ll come back to me eventually?”

“Only if you promise to come watch me compete one day.”

“Deal.”

Technoblade: Thank you

Philza: I didn't say that was a good thing

Logically, school holidays should mean time

Note the word should

I just wanted to write something fluffy, no matter how bad.

Tommy couldn’t stop jumping at every movement, every touch. It had been a long time since he escaped the prison, and more specifically the man trapped within its walls, but dying takes a toll on you, as expected.

So you could hardly blame Tommy for leaping up and drawing his sword, pressing it to Ranboo’s shoulder, completely misjudging his height, when Ranboo had gingerly tapped him on the back.

“Woah, calm.”

Ranboo would have raised his hands in surrender, but the sword only slightly digging into his suit kept his left arm down.

“Oh. Ranboo.” Tommy emphasised the second syllable, re-shealthing his sword and reluctantly gesturing to the bench beside him. “Sit down then.”

The silence was far from comfortable, and Tommy was honestly kinda sick of it. Ranboo kept twisting his fingers, rolling a small grass ball in his hands, shooting glances over, almost as if he expected Tommy to start talking.

“I feel like I owe you an apology.”

Out of everything Tommy could have expected, this was not high on the list.

“Both for leaving you in prison and not doing anything about it, and unintentionally, and I promise I didn’t do it on purpose, getting closer to Tubbo.”

That one stung more really. What could Ranboo have done to get Tommy out, he was just a kid, the same, there was no way Ranboo could have any control over his release, or his demise, but Tubbo? Tommy didn’t think he would ever lose Tubbo, yet here was the very person who had stolen him away.

“First one isn’t your fault, second though,” Tommy raised an accusing finger, sighing and dropping it. “You make him happy.” The words tasted bitter spilling out of his mouth, and tears stung at the back of his eyes, threatening to spill and show the world his pain.

You make him happy.

Had Tommy ever made Tubbo happy like this? He sure had never heard from anyone, but maybe no one had ever asked. Maybe Tommy being locked up was the thing that Tubbo needed to finally find someone else that would treat him right. But Tommy had treated him right, hadn’t he? Sure, the teasing was harsh at times, but it was two-sided and always understood to be a joke. Had he been a bad friend?

“Hey, hey, look at me.”

Through blurred vision, he focused on Ranboo, who didn’t even flinch when a tear dripped onto his hand, evaporating with a sizzle, instead pressing a grass ball into Tommy’s hands.

“Breathe.”

Tommy took a gulping breath, swallowing thickly, raising his bandana to dry his eyes.

“Thanks.”

He moved to return the grass ball, but Ranboo shook his head.

“Keep it. I have plenty.”

He wouldn’t admit it but the grass was soft between his fingers, somewhat grounding him in this reality, and a little squishy.

“Well, that’s not the only reason I’m here.” Ranboo cleared his throat, nervous again. “Tubbo would’ve come but, he’s looking after Michael right now, anyways, we wanted to invite you to come ice skating.”

“Ice skating?” Tommy squinted at Ranboo in confusion.

“Yea, ice skating. You know up in Snowchester? The lake finally froze over enough that we can skate on it.”

“I don’t trust Tubbo’s judgement.”

Ranboo let out a short laugh.

“Neither, but he dropped an anvil on it, and not even a crack.”

“He dropped a-” Tommy couldn’t help but laugh, thinking fondly of the short boy walking stubbornly over to a frozen lake, toting an anvil and dropping it on the ice.

“Come on. Michael is so excited to meet you.”

Tommy can’t help but jump at every little thing, but he tries not to when he feels little hooves tugging at his trousers, laying over his chunky skates, and as he looks down, Michael is laid dramatically over his feet, with pleading eyes and a soft snort.

“Go on. I trust you won’t drop him like you dropped Fundy.”

Tommy scowled, reaching down and scooping Michael up, gently butting heads with him with a giggle.

“One time, we were on a soft surface and he wasn’t even that high. Also, Fundy was a squirmy bit- uh.. baby.”

And maybe Tommy would always jump when someone touched him, or when he heard a little noise. And maybe Tommy would still feel alone some nights, and maybe sometimes, Tommy would sob silently until his fingers found the grass ball that never wilted or died, even after all that time. But Tommy could heal, mend his mind, his heart, his bridges.

Dream: George, that's a coma.

Ranboo: Don't you mean inevitable?

TW: Death, blood

No real reason I just got addicted to this song today and just today, and so, quick Wilbur angst.

“Dadza! Dadza!”

Tommy was settled, finally, and Techno had always been independent enough to get himself to bed, which just left Will, his favourite yellow sweater hanging down to below his knees, tugging at the back of Phil’s cloak.

“Yes Will?”

“Can you, can you sing for me?”

“Sure I can mate. What song?”

Wilbur scrambled into bed, tucking himself in tightly and scrunching up his eyes.

“Uh… I want smthony!!”

Phil cocked his head to the side, smiling softly at Wilbur’s skewed pronunciation.

“Symphony?”

He nodded enthusiastically, closing his eyes with a happy sigh as Phil took a deep breath.

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

Now in it’s place is something new

I hear it when I look at you.

Blood. There was so much blood, and Phil couldn’t prevent Will from falling into his arms, bright colours long replaced with darker browns and blacks of a sadder time.

“Philza. Philza.” Wilbur managed to gasp out, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, a blood trail that Phil gently wiped away.

“Yes Will?”

“Can you sing, please? Sing for me?”

“Of course. What song?”

“You know which one.”

With simple songs, I wanted more

Perfection is so quick to bore

You are my beautiful, by far

Our flaws are who we really are

His eyes were shut, breath coming out ragged and harsh, but his face was peaceful. He was smiling.

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

You took my broken melody

And now, I hear a symphony

Phil held Wilbur close, and didn’t let him go, even after his body had stilled, and the blood pooling within them has stopped trickling, Phil held Wilbur close and sobbed, words failing him, but he had to finish the song, for Will, it had to be done.

And now, I hear

A symphony

Me and xreader is just a disaster waiting to happen

This is for @okpunz ‘s writing competition, based on the song Woman by Harry Styles

The 2 times you nearly told Niki you loved her as more than a friend, and the one time you did.

Stop thinking like that. Niki is your best friend, roommate. Nothing more. She isn’t allowed to be anything more. She has a boyfriend, you chided yourself. She only thinks of you as a friend.

The first time you nearly made the worst mistake of your life.

But it was so hard, especially on these nights, where Niki would cuddle into your side, eyes half shut as she watched the screen, some rom-com or another playing in the background. Where she would lie against you, asking questions about the future, with lazy jokes and gentle touches.

“You should break up with your boyfriend,” you had joked once. “Come with me and explore the world.”

She had laughed and pushed your shoulder.

“Where to first captain?”

You painted tales of travelling the seven seas, flying high above the world, where nothing seemed to affect you, traversing thick jungles and forests, splashing through rivers. And she listened, enraptured at the stories you told, of the tales you spun, and would agree quietly. You had looked down as she returned the gesture, eyes meeting, and you could feel the words on your lips, spilling, falling…

“You’re very pretty,” you decided on. “Your boyfriend is lucky.”

She gave you a soft smile, and in the morning when your mind was clear, her boyfriend had taken her out of the apartment for the day.

The second time the words you knew were there tried to escape.

Niki tucked her recently dyed pink hair behind an ear, ignoring the light pink that stained her fingers, examining her new look in the mirror.

“You did a good job,” she complimented, turning her head from side to side, letting the slightly damp hair fly out in waves over her shoulders.

You nodded mutely, shaking yourself out of the stupor. You were staring, you chided yourself, instead focusing on tidying up the leftover pink hair dye.

“And now it’s your turn!”

“Huh?”

20 minutes later, your hair was wet, and a pink streak ran through the left side. Niki was laughing, much to your amusement, cheeks flushed light pink, dusted with gold in the dying light. It didn’t look half bad, honestly, and if it made her this happy, you were glad to sit still and let her paint your hair any colour she would like.

“I lov-” You coughed, shaking your head at the words you were about to say. “I like it. Thank you.”

And the time you did, and changed everything.

“Sing!”

“I can’t sing!”

Both slightly tipsy, you and Niki swayed in the living room, some background music or the other blasting from a karaoke machine you had picked up at her request. She wiggled the microphone in your face, so you took a deep breath and sang along, stumbling over your words, and only stopping when she joined in, letting her sing alone.

She had the voice of an angel, perfectly singing every note and capturing the song, capturing you in her spell. You were spinning, and she was spinning laughing in each other's embrace, then she was close, too close, body pressed flush against yours and finally the words you had craved she could hear slipped over the threshold of your lips and you blurted them out to her.

"I love you."

Niki pulled away slightly awkwardly, light smile still on her face.

"I.. I love you too."

Regret pulsed through your body but it was too late now. She heard it.

"No, more, not just a friend,” you paused, trying to collect your thoughts. “I love you, like I’m in love with you.”

She was walking away, and for the second time, you were going to lose her.

“Niki.. I-”

“No,” Niki took careful steps backwards. “No, no, I’m sorry but, I, I can’t.”

You took half a step forwards, offering a hopeful hand, bridging the space between you, but for what, you didn’t know. Tears were welling up in your eyes and you fought to keep the lump from rising higher up your throat.

She just shook her head again, and your hand dropped to your side. You knew when you had to stop.

“I’ll be gone by the morning.”

You turned and walked away from her, as hard as it was, as much as your body ached to turn around, apologise, try to wipe this night from the history books, you knew as soon as you turned the tears steadily building behind your eyes would pour, and you couldn’t have that. No, you had made your mistake, and as much as it hurt to leave her, as much as needles pricked into your back, urging you to go back to her, you couldn’t anymore.

This is for @alex-quackity ‘s writing comp, a platonic Tubbo and Ranboo

TW: look I honestly don’t know but I feel like there is a trigger warning in here somewhere, so if anyone can tell me, that would be appreciated!

“Alright, bye Michael! Buh-byeee!”

Tubbo giggled to himself as he shimmied down the ladder, carefully shutting the trapdoor behind him, so Michael wouldn’t fall out and hurt himself. He and Ranboo’s adopted son was growing up so fast, too fast, and soon, Tubbo was sure Michael would be getting into trouble in no time. Speaking of Ranboo…

Hey, you good?

Tubbo hadn’t seen his platonic spouse in a while, though that wasn’t exactly uncommon, Ranboo was a busy man. He always made time for his little family in Snowchester, but he could be away, mining, on a quest with Techno or Phil, helping out. Tubbo found himself cleaning up around the house, helping out Foolish a little at the mansion, to take his mind off the absence of his husband. But night fell, and still no response, message sitting sadly, alone.

It wouldn’t be too bad to pay him a visit, right?

It wasn’t too far to Phil and Techno’s place, where Ranboo had a small shack in the mountains. Tubbo had been there many a times, and if Techno was out, then he would mostly be in the clear. Unfortunately, as he approached, he could see a tuft of pink hair over a giant polar bear. Techno was home.

“Hey, uh, Techno, sor-”

“Tubbo, have you seen Ranboo?”

Tubbo blinked, Techno having swiftly left the side of the polar bear to stand in front of him. He was concerned, Tubbo realised, worried about the half ender-boy who Techno had taken under his theoretical wing.

“No.. No, I actually came here to check if you had seen him.”

Techno nodded slowly, returning to the polar bear, voice gruff.

“Well, let me know if you find him.”

“Will do.”

Tubbo wandered through L’manburg. He had mostly made peace with the wreckage that lay untouched, forever unfinished. The stinging pain of accidents he made had faded, left with a slight ache with every memory. Specifically though, Tubbo was on his way to the panic room. Ranboo’s panic room. A place, he didn’t know existed until Ranboo asked him for help.

It was closed, Tubbo found, carefully mining through a piece of crying obsidian and slipping inside. Ranboo was there, luckily, Tubbo didn’t know where to look next if he wasn’t.

“Ranboo,” Tubbo called softly, gently placing a hand on his back. “Hey, how have you been?”

Ranboo hissed, scrambling to the opposite wall, facing Tubbo for the first time. His eyes were purple, solid, glowing purple, ender particles glitched off and around him. A sinister smile spread across his face and he took two steps forwards, the iridescent purple blade appearing in his claws.

“⊑⟒⌰⌰⍜ ⏁⎍⏚⏚⍜.”

“Ran,” Tubbo’s voice died in his throat, shrivelling up in terror. He cleared his throat, swallowing back the fear. “Ranboo, Ranboo it’s me, it’s me! Tubbo. Your friend.”

He held out his hands in a gesture of surrender, or calming, slowly walking backwards, trying to plan his escape. Ranboo matched every step with his.

“Please, come home. Michael misses you,” Tubbo dropped his voice, almost an afterthought. “I miss you.”

A agonising scream tore from Ranboo’s throat, ripping through the air and he dropped to his hand and knees, panting. Tears streaked down his face, leaving red burning tracks etched into his skin, but when he looked up and locked eyes with Tubbo again, his eyes were the usual red and green.

“Tu-Tubbo, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just,” his body writhed in pain and his eyes flickered purple and he cried out again.

Tubbo wanted to help him so badly, he wanted to run forwards and gather up in best friend in his arms and take him far away from here, but he could only watch helplessly as Ranboo fought with his own inner demons.

“Please, you have to promise me, run, just run.”

His eyes glossed over, reverting to the purple that Tubbo had feared.