Hello and welcome to the blog of c!Primetober, where you create c!Primeboys content for the whole month of October, based on a prompt list which will be uploaded at the start of September (keep your eyes peeled for it)
You can call me Jester or Arson (he/she), I'm a mod and my main blog is @arsonistfriday . I've been a huge fan of these two characters for ages now, and since October is coming up, I thought of an idea where people could specifically celebrate their love for c!Primeboys, so this blog was made!
Hello, I'm Stell (any pronouns), I'm the other mod for this event. My main blog is @stellocchia. I've been wanting to do something like this with primeboys for a while, though this year we finally went through with setting it up, and I'm really happy with the prompts we came up with. I'll probably be participating myself!
Below the cut will be a FAQ
When will the prompt list be uploaded?
Roughly the beginning of September! It'll be a scheduled post.
Do I have to create content for every day?
Nope! This event is purely for fun.
What should I tag my posts with so that they'll be reblogged here?
#cprimetober is the go-to. You can also tag us in the post so that we can find it easier.
What can we create?
Anything! Art, webweaves, stories, whatever your heart desires!
Can my work include CC content?
We were hoping to stick to the characters for this event, so we'd rather have no IRL content. You can however go wild with AUs as much as you want!
Tommy was sitting with his back against the obsidian wall, arms crossed over his chest, inhaling and exhaling deeply. He shouldnât be in here, but he had to do what he had to do in order to ensure Tubboâs safety. He wasnât even sure if he could trust the green bastard, but this was his only chance, and he did make Dream promise. So, hopefully, Tubbo should be fine. No, Tubbo will be fine. He has to be. Otherwise, Tommy would be in here for nothing. Otherwise, Tommy would have done everything for nothing.
As long as Tubbo was safe, he could endure. Dream had just left him in this cell, and a devastating thought crossed his mind. How long would Dream leave him in here? Not forever, at least, not alone forever, right? Tommy doesnât know if he could handle that. He dug his fingernails into his legs as he started to hyperventilate. Dream knew how lonely Tommy could get, but he wouldnât use that against him, right?
Who is Tommy kidding? Of course, he would; heâs an evil lying bastard, after all. Tommy almost went crazy in exile when Dream didnât visit for three days. At least during that, he could see the sun and roam around if he truly wished. Now, he was stuck in this stuffy, hot cell. What did Dream call this placeâŠ? Pandoraâs Vault..? Yeah, thatâs what it was: Pandoraâs Vault. He probably got that name from Technoblade. He was crazy about that mythology symbolism and shit. Wait⊠did Techno help Dream put Tommy in hereâŠÂ
No⊠he had to be overthinking things. It was just a name coincidence; that doesnât actually mean anything. Surely Techno wasnât that mad at him. Maybe he just gave Dream an idea for the name, but that doesnât mean he was involved in having Tommy locked up. He missed Techno⊠He missed Tubbo⊠Hell, he even missed Wilbur. Tommy definitely didnât think that he would ever say that, especially after everything that had transpired.
He missed the early days of the server when he was happy, and there weren't any significant problems. Where he could just be a kid. The longer he reminisced on these memories, the more they started to feel like daydreams about how long ago it felt. It didnât even feel real anymore. While stuck here, he thought about Dream more than he thought he would; he wished he could block it out.Â
Dream was always too kind to him, and Tommy always acted like such a child. Even if he hated calling himself that. Thatâs how he acted from time to time; he was aware. He glanced at the clock on the left wall; the ticking was driving him insane. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, when would it stop?! He wanted to rip it down from the wall and throw it into the lava so he didnât have to deal with that fucking ticking. That clock was mocking him, taunting him for being stuck in this cell.Â
Taunting him for the mistakes he made. Okay⊠maybe that was a bit much, but still, it wasnât like he had anything else to focus on. It was hard to block it out. When he looked up at the clock again, he paused; it had only been two hours since Dream left? It felt like a day. Or maybe even two days, but it was only two hours? Tommy was going to lose his mind; he was almost sure of it.
He hated being alone more than anything in the world. He would probably hate losing his friends the most, but being alone was up there. Dream wouldnât abandon him; he promised that he never would during exile. However, that was before Tommy royally fucked everything up by hiding stuff from him.Â
Being alone, being isolated from everyone, and not even having Dream come to visit him every day drove him to his breaking point. He was not even allowed to go to the Nether and gaze longingly at the Nether portal that would bring him to LâManberg, praying to Prime that somebody, anybody, would step out of that portal and want to see him. Nobody ever did.Â
He used to think that he could endure anything the world would throw at him. He was such a naive kid, not that he was any wiser or anything like that now, but at least he knew how messed up the world and everyone in it genuinely was. He wouldnât make the same mistake of blindly trusting anyone ever again. Not after being abandoned and betrayed by the people he once called friends.Â
Tommy never thought he would reach that breaking point, never thought he would reach rock bottom. Wasnât there a saying about how you can only go up once you reach rock bottom? Thatâs funny⊠It felt like Tommyâs life had hit rock bottom grabbed a shovel, and continued to dig. There never once was a chance for him to go up. Everything the world threw at him was one tragedy after another. It never ended.
Tommy stood up and stretched; it was never good to sit for too long. He went over to a lone chest next to the cauldron of water. He opened it cautiously; you can never know if something may be a trap, especially if Dream was involved, but all that was inside was a book of books and quills. His eyes widened; finally, he would actually have something to do. Draw his friends or write about them⊠Maybe he shouldnât do that; itâll only make him sadder. More lonely. He stared into the chest as he started to lose focus.Â
Wait⊠Tubbo would save him, right? Surely, he was putting together a huge group of people out there, and they would storm in here and save Tommy. Get him out of this hell hole so he could see his best friend again. He picked up a book and a quill and returned to where he was sitting, leaning his head against the obsidian wall and staring at the ceiling. He then leaned his whole body against the wall and slowly slid down until he was sitting again. Yeah, right, nobody was coming to save him, and he knew it.Â
He was tired. Very very tired. His eyes fluttered close even as he tried to force himself awake; it didnât work, and he fell into an unrestful slumber. When he opened his eyes, he was still in the cell; a day had passed. Tommy was starting to get antsy. He needed to talk to someone, anyone. He didnât care at this point; he wouldnât even care if it was an animal. He just wanted some form of life to interact with.
Tommy didnât notice the security camera in the corner; Dream was watching him. He was enjoying this. Watching Tommy slowly break down. It would only be a matter of days until he broke for good and Dream could do whatever he wanted. Tommy stood up quickly, knocking the book and quill to the side. He started to shout, beg, and plead for someone to talk to him. Tommy collapsed to his knees and began to sob. He would typically never do this, not around anyone anyway, but as far as Tommy knew, nobody was around.
Quiet pleads left his mouth, just give him somebody to talk to. Anybody. Please. He couldnât do this; how did he possibly think he could manage this? Itâs only been a day, and he was already like this. He feared for what was to come.Â
After a few days passed, Dream rechecked the camera and was surprised to see drawings all over the floor, plastered on the walls. The word please was written repeatedly on pieces of paper scattered about. Tommy was sitting in the corner, head in his hands, muttering to himself about Tubbo and his friends. Tommy himself looked scattered; it was now the perfect time for Dream to start conditioning Tommy yet again. This was going to be so much fun.Â
The month of October kicked my fucking ass. School, family problems, etc. But I made a promise to myself that I would finish this Primetober shit. So I will, just super slowly because mid-terms. Iâm also prob not going be tagging it under Primetober just because but know it is.
Day 6: You are an Obsession
|âI am your possessionâ|Obsession|Intrusive Thoughts|
All Dream ever wanted was a big, happy family for the server. That was the only thing he asked for. Sure, he had other goals, but the most important thing was keeping the server happy. At least, that was his goal in the beginning. After Tommy arrived and all the wars, Dreamâs mind became corrupted. He became attached to Tommy, and he became attached even more to the idea of Tommy even though he acted like he had no attachments. Like he was free of what burdened everyone else on the server.Â
His attachment to Tommy grew stronger and stronger through each passing war. Tommy was a spark in an otherwise bland world. Dream was bored, so goddamn bored in this little world that he owned. Everyone was so boring; the people he once thought were sparks had dulled into embers.Â
Tommy⊠oh Tommy⊠he was perfect; he was everything that Dream wanted to control. Tommy was the one who spat in his face and acted like he was above the rules. Oh boy⊠was Dream excited to show him exactly why he was in charge. Why nobody fucking messed with him. So he began his plan to prove to Tommy and everyone else (mostly himself) that he was still in charge, that he was the light that everyone should be bowing to. The one everyone should respect. Dream put his plan into motion and everything Dream had planned for led up to Tommyâs exile from LâManberg.Â
Tommy was on his back in the damp grass; he liked the cold; it allowed him to feel something other than pain and loneliness for once. Maybe he was being dramatic; he wasnât exactly lonely, but he still had Dream⊠Dream came and visited him, so that had to be a plus. As long as Tommy kept being good, Dream wouldnât leave him.
Maybe he did deserve it, though⊠After all, he only thought of himself; he couldnât even do anything right⊠He hurt his friends, he hurt anyone who ever made the mistake of talking to him, and he- no⊠he wouldnât go down that route. Listening to those thoughts brought him nothing but trouble every time.
So, he would relax on the grass and continue to stare up at the night stars. Some seemed to shine brighter than others, and thatâs where he focused his gaze. Maybe it could be some sort of metaphor for hope. Or he might just be looking too far into details about stars. Perhaps some just shine brighter than others at specific points in their lifetime.
Tommy supposed he could relate. He was supposed to be the brother of Wilbur Soot, one of the greatest men who ever lived, at least in Tommyâs relatively unbiased opinion. (That was a joke; Tommy was very biased toward Wilbur.) How could he possibly live up to Wilburâs reputation? Besides the part near the end of his life where he went insane and blew up LâManberg and scarred Tommy in the process, but before that⊠Wilbur was a pretty damn cool man.
However, Tommy knew his truth at this point. He was nothing more than Dreamâs little puppet. Dream basically controlled his life out here, and nobody within LâManberg knew. Tommy knew that Dream would tell them all that Tommy was fine out there alone, and he didnât want to see them.
Just the thought of that made the compass in Tommyâs pant pocket feel heavier. Maybe it was the weight of guilt slowly settling over him. It felt like it crushed him the more he thought; he couldnât breathe. As the thoughts became darker and darker, it felt like somebody was piling stones on his chest. It started out as simple rocks until it felt like boulders. Crushing him alive, maybe that wouldnât be the worst.Â
Those types of thoughts werenât new to Tommy. He figured a lot of people didnât think he ever felt guilt for something heâd done. He always did. Now, he just had more time to sit and think about it. To reminisce about the things he messed up. The people he hurt. Somewhere in the darkness of the back of Tommyâs mind was the lingering thought that Dream had set all of this up just so he could have Tommy all to himself.
It wouldnât surprise him; Dream was an obsessive bastard. Even if he said, he had no attachments. Why else would he go through all of this just to make sure Tommy is alone and maybe even forgotten by the people he thought cared about him. Thinking made Tommy tired, and as he lay there on the damp grass, the wetness of it had since been absorbed into his shirt, his eyes fluttered closed. He didnât want to get up and go back to his tent.Â
He woke up the following day with Dream standing over him, looking slightly annoyed. That made Tommy yelp and scramble backward, not expecting to see that first thing in the morning. Dream scoffed, and thatâs when Tommy noticed the netherite axe in his hand, glistening in the sunlight. Beautiful but deadly. Just another thing to add to the list of Tommyâs fears. Alongside Dream and the dark⊠and⊠yeah, it was mostly just Dream.Â
âCome on! Get up; youâve been sleeping for about eleven hours.â Eleven hours? Thatâs⊠a lot. Maybe thatâs why Tommy felt so well-rested.
Tommy wanted to ask about the real reason he was out here. He knew there was one, but for the life of him, he couldnât figure out what the fuck it was. He wasnât sure if Dream would get angry at him, which was the only real reason he hadnât tried to ask. He took a breath as Dream continued to stare at him as he sat on the grass.Â
He shivered slightly; sleeping on the grass probably wasnât the best idea, but there wasnât much he could do about it now. His shirt was damp now, and he shivered even more with all the cuts and rips in his pants and shirt. He blew air out of his mouth, seeing if he could catch his breath. It obviously wasnât that cold, but sometimes it's fun to be a little dramatic.Â
Dream was tired of being ignored. He went over to Tommy, who was still sitting there, staring at him as if unsure what to do. He grabbed Tommyâs sleeve and pulled him to his feet, shoving the axe to his throat but not pressing into his neck. Tommyâs breath quickened, and so did his pulse.
âWhy⊠Why am I here? What- what did you- do you want from me?â Tommy tried to get his words out as quickly as possible, unsure of Dreamâs current mood.
âWhy? Itâs quite simple Tommy. You are the one thing in this entire server that can entertain me. You are the one thing that hasnât bored me and trust me⊠you donât want to bore me Tommy. I donât want to have to dispose of you yet. You belong to me Tommy, your life is entirely in my hands.â Dream found that last little comment amusing.Â
He could easily just end it all right here and now. He slowly slid the axe across Tommyâs throat lightly, making sure not to leave any real damage.Â
âDo you understand me, Tommy?â Dream tightened his grip on the axe as Tommy gulped and tried his best to nod, not trusting himself to form words that wouldnât put him in deeper shit.Â
âSay it.â Tommy froze up; what did Dream want him to say? That Dream literally owned him, owned his life, he admitted to himself last night, but trying to say it now was hard.Â
His tongue felt limp and useless, and his throat felt like it was closing up, but he wouldnât allow himself to panic now. Just say what he wants, and maybe this can all be over. Nothing terrible needs to happen here.
âI- I belong- I- my life belongs to youâŠâ Tommy managed to find his voice, and Dream removed the axe and gave him a light shove, but Tommy was already off balance, so he went tumbling to the grass.Â
He just sat there for a minute as Dream glared down at him. Maybe this could just be another nightmare. Deep in his heart, Tommy knew what he said was true; he just never wanted to admit it again
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I TECHNICALLY GOT DAY 31 DONE AND EDITED 20 MINUTES BEFORE MIDNIGHT MY TIME, SO I FINISHED IN TIME! WOOOO!
On top of being the last cPrimetober work, this is also the conclusion of the Ancient Magus Bride AU, so that was quite a bit of work and a lot of fun!
Summary:
Sequel of "You are an Obsession" and "Glory through Toils". I would suggest reading the other two first for this one.
-
He imagined himself atop a tall narrow pillar. Something earthy and yet so unnatural. Something with no safe way down from it.
Tommy was standing there, looking down. He could see the body of his brother lying bloody and unmoving on the ground below. He was so high up that it didnât make any sense, and yet there it was.
He just had to answer the call. It would be so simple. All his grief and sorrow would be gone at once.
The pillar was a bit taller every time. Every new hurdle he met made it just that much harder to scale it down, even if he did want to try. And he didnât want to.
He closed his eyes and let gravity do its job.
*
âThe living shouldnât envy the deadâ Henryâs voice was stern now, as if heâd just gotten a glimpse inside Tommyâs mind too. âYou cannot fly, so itâs good you never triedâ.
Day 25: Bugs and Worms and Day 31: Suicidal Thoughts
CW: Implied suicide; implied child abuse
---
When Tommy was a child, he was always dirty. Playing in mud, twigs and bugs in matted curls, scraps marring bloodied knees as he played with the animals found in the woods. He was a child born to be wild, Dream would tell him, and wild things are meant to be tamed.
At the time Tommy didn't understand what he meant. He always saw beauty in wild things, finding comfort in their fierce ways.
But maybe that was the problem.Â
Tommy was a feral thing, and everyone knew it. Dream was just trying to help. Dream wanted Tommy to be better, to be the perfect child.
But Tommy isnât, and he can't take it anymoreâthe punishments, the cruel words, the fear that courses throughout his entire body.Â
Heâs tired. He doesnât want to be wild or tame, feral or calm. He just wants to be gone. Six feet under, beneath the very soil that he used to play in. He wants rest, some peace and quiet.Â
If it means having worms between his ribs and maggots eating his heart, heâll gladly rest underground.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
So... day 30 wasn't meant to be this silly, but I had this idea in my head for a while and I decided that, fuck it, I already did an angsty prompt about the last day of exile, might as well go for crack this time!
Tommy used Confusion, it was super effective.
Summary:
After the nukes go off in the finale Tommy is sent back in time to the day his exile ended.
He is confused. Dream is even more confused. Honestly, it's all a mess.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Guys, day 29 is here! We're going back to my roots with an exile fic today!
Summary:
He knew his exile would never come to an end. Heâd been told over and over again by Dream how much better New LâManburg was doing without him, they would be fools to take him back. And, as much as it hurt, Tommy had come to accept it as a reality. However, that meant that all he had were the sparse visits, and he couldnât bear with them getting more infrequent by the day. He wished he could have a permanent companion⊠maybe that would fix him.
It appeared that Prime had answered his prayers on the dawn of his fifth month there.
He and Mexican Dream didnât know each other much. They met once before, years before Tommyâs exile.
MD was Quackityâs cousin, though the two didnât get along at all. Last Tommy heard Quackity was trying to ignore MDâs existence altogether. It had something to do with Quackityâs discomfort around most recreational substances and the fact that MD was a dealer of said substances. Tommy wasnât too sure.
That said, despite their limited knowledge of each other and MDâs not-so-stellar reputation, the man was all bright smiles and open arms as soon as he saw Tommy. He started yelling: âTomĂĄs!â and beckoning Tommy close as soon as he was fully out of the Nether portal he'd come from.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I'M TECHNICALLY STILL ON TIME FOR DAY 28 BY TWO HOURS, WOOOO!
Anyway. Initially, I had 0 ideas for this fic. Then my beloved Cat came in and hit me with one good idea after another and now the fic is finished at just under 14k words, which is just absolutely wild. And it's also why I decided to split it into two chapters because, honestly, I personally struggle to read extremely long one-shots.
As for the fic, it ended up being a fusion between a Superhero AU and a Backrooms-inspired scenario. It was really fun to write, though I would suggest reading the tags before engaging.
Summary:
For years now, LâManburg had been living under the constant looming threat of the Puppeteer, a cunning villain with a passionate and borderline sadistic love for death. He stated publicly before that his ultimate objective was to find a cure for mortality, though it didnât seem like he was anywhere close to achieving his objective by the ever-increasing pile of corpses lying at his feet.
He was a slippery one, and in eight years of activity, no one had been able to find any hint of where his hideout might be. All the most advanced tracking technology in the world had led to nothing but one wild goose chase after another, sometimes even leading the heroes well out of town, only to trap them and slaughter them like cattle once they were too far for reinforcements to reach them in a timely manner.
That all changed when Tommy, who wasnât even a hero, was unfortunate enough to catch Puppeteer slipping back into his hideout underneath Church Prime as he was going for an early prayer before work.
-
or, To finally defeat the infamous Puppeteer, a task force of nine heroes and a civilian is put together. They're not ready for what they find down below...
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Keeping the theme of outsiders having a look into the mess that is cPrimeboys with day 27, this time it's Phil's turn!
I was reading back an old analysis of mine of Tommy's pov of Dream's prison escape and I decided I couldn't not write something about it. It's too good. And Phil's and Tommy's interactions in that one were genuinely so interesting, so here we are!
Summary:
Phil couldnât say he regretted the choice of breaking Dream out of prison per se.
He understood the necessity for it. Techno couldnât owe the man a favor forever, and, besides, it had been convenient to do while retrieving Ranboo from there. And it wasnât like theyâd known what the man was truly like beforehand, he and Techno genuinely believed he was just some dude with values that somewhat aligned with theirs.
That said, he hadnât been able to get Tommyâs frightened expression and ragged appearance out of his mind ever since the kid had come running over to his house, begging for Phil's protection from Dream.
Phil still couldnât comprehend how anyoneâs first instinct coming out of prison could be to chase down and scare the crap out of a random teenager he had beef with at some point, but he knew that he couldnât just leave Tommy to deal with it. Not because he felt any remorse over his actions, just because it wouldnât be right.
Tommy didnât deserve to go through that alone.
-
or, Protecting a teenager from his stalker turns out to be far more difficult than Phil originally thought
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Day 26 is here, and with it, we have yet another person figuring out how messed up cPrime relationship is! This time, the poor unfortunate soul is Tubbo.
Summary:
Dream had asked explicitly in his letter for Tubbo as well. Tubbo had been an even bigger thorn in his side than Tommy had with New LâManburg and his butchered attempt at executing him during the Green Festival. And yet, Dream didnât look at him once after they were done fighting. He probably could have gotten a punch in with how tunneled Dreamâs vision seemed to be. It wouldnât have gotten them anywhere, but he could have.
âListen, Tommy, since you joined the server, youâve been a headache!â Dream had started off, already isolating Tommy as the single cause of all of his problems. As if Tubbo, one of the people who literally tried to execute him, wasnât standing right there. âYouâve brought war, you brought terrorism, youâve brought bad everything! But! But! The cause of all the wars, of everything, was attachment, alright? Your attachment to the discs, your attachment to Henry, to pets, to friends-â He waved vaguely in Tubboâs direction at that but still didnât look at him. âTo land, to countries, to items, right?â.
-
or, Tubbo is hit with the realization that Dream may be a bit more obsessed with his best friend than he originally thought
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
A bit late, but day 25 is here!
I went wholesome with this one. So come grab your "God of the Swamp Tommy adopting/getting adopted by a Human Dream having a very bad day" fic!
Summary:
Dream was currently having the worst birthday ever, maybe even the worst day of his life.
As he was driving through the swamp dividing his house from the town, a car came barreling at him from the opposite direction. Usually, that would be fine. Two cars could fit easily on that road, and Dream was on a motorcycle. Except that time the other guy swerved off path right as they were passing Dream, meaning he got hit head-on and was sent off course.
He rolled to the edge of the road, all in all pretty unharmed. He used the guardrail to help himself up and, just as he did that, the extra pressure he put on the ground caused it to come undone under his feet. Soon, Dream found himself rolling down a mud hill, hitting every thorny bush, tree, rock, and putrid puddle he came across on his way down. The last crash especially left him with a throbbing pain in his shoulder that made it really hard to breathe.
He didnât want to be pessimistic, but, seeing how things were going, he wouldnât be surprised if he broke something in there- a bone, a ligament, his spirit⊠at least one of those.
-
Or, due to an accident, Dream ends up lost in the Swamp with only an unsettling child as company
