Fill out the linked sign-up form. The information you provide here will help determine the prompts you'll get for creating your own work. Prompts all come from the event organizer, NOT from other participants.
Approximately 1-2 weeks before August 16th, you'll get two asks from this blog in your inbox, each ask containing a fantasy-themed Dream SMP prompt. Choose one of the prompt asks.
Use your choice of prompt to create a piece of art, writing, or something else—whatever you like!
On August 16th, post your work! This could be as a direct response to the ask with your chosen prompt, or it could be a separate post. Either way, remember to @ this blog and use the tag #sixteenthdayevent so I can reblog anything you create!
Important information:
Please keep in mind that this is an event focused on the Dream SMP story and characters.
This is NOT a gift exchange. This means that there is no expectation of quality, nor is there a minimum or maximum amount you can create. You can even drop out at any time! Filling out the sign-up form only means that you will receive your prompts; it does not mean that you have to participate. This event is supposed to be as stress-free as possible.
The reason there are two prompts is just to give you a choice in case you don't like one of them; you don't have to complete them both! (But you can if you want to.) If you strongly dislike both of your prompts, let me know so I can send more.
Please make sure that your tumblr asks are turned on!
They heard “Admin” and thought of control, authority, and unchecked power. But to Dream, it meant creation. It meant he had lovingly shaped the server with his own hands, writing line after line of code as if it were poetry, until life blossomed from nothing but numbers and symbols.
Every tree was an old friend, planted in the silence of creation; every mountain ridge was etched by his will; and every river that curved across the land was a decision made by his own design. When the wind moved through the leaves, it carried secrets only meant for him; when the run rose or the moon sank, he felt their rhythms as if they were his own pulse. This server was alive, and he was not just its keeper, but its creator – its Admin. And that meant something no other player could ever understand.
With a motion of his fingers, subtle and deliberate, he could tug at the World Strings – the invisible strings that created the entire server from scratch. They held everything together. They quivered like threads of a vast spider’s web, singing beneath his touch. With them, he could shift the ground beneath armies, still the flow of time, or call down banishment upon those who defied him. The console itself listened when he breathed.
And yet … he rarely touched those strings.
That was a truth none of them saw.
To the others, he was an oppressor: a tyrant who cloaked himself in green and wore a mask to hide his true self. But in truth, he restrained himself more than any of them could ever know. Dream could have bent the world to his will, written himself as an untouchable god. He could have wiped their rebellions away with a single command, brought silence and order at the cost of their freedom.
He never did.
He believed in choice. He believed in free will. He believed in letting them write their own stories, even when those stories rose up against him. His restraint was invisible, but it was there in every decision.
And still, they hated him. They whispered that he was cruel, manipulative, power-hungry. They only saw the mask, the hand that pulled unseen strings in the background, and never the sacrifice behind it.
But Dream carried their hatred willingly. He chose it, because he understood something that they could not: people were never closer than when they shared an enemy. In fighting him, they grew strong together. In hating him, they forgot to hate one another. And in rallying against the villain he played, they found unity in ways peace could never have offered them.
Dream was reminded of this as he approached the Forest of Codes.
Few knew this place existed, and fewer still had walked within its boundaries. The coordinates were hidden, buried deep in the world’s fabric. To ordinary players, the forest was impenetrable – its trees grew so densely together that light could barely pass between their trunks. Fallen logs piled high, vines knotted into walls, leaves matted knee-deep. To anyone else, it was a barrier meant to repel intrusion. But not for Dream.
The forest knew its Admin.
At his approach, the trees bent aside. The path unraveled. Leaves drifted upward in defiance of gravity, logs rolled back into place, and the canopy thinned to spill silver beams of moonlight upon his steps. The whole forest bowed, a reverence for the one who had written its code into being.
Dream stepped forward once, then again. Midnight wrapped around him.
The air was thick with whispers – leaves that rustled not in wind, but in binary murmurs. Fireflies drifted in lazy arcs, their pulses flashing like command prompts. It was a language only he understood, for the forest was not just alive: it was the Heart of the Server.
He rarely came here.
Maintenance was never a problem – there was little he couldn’t fix elsewhere with a quiet line of code or a small adjustment. But lately, something had tugged at him, a disturbance only an Admin could feel. That was why he had come to the Heart of his creation: to listen.
And for the first time, it felt … wrong.
The Forest of Codes twisted against him. Paths looped back on themselves. Trees leaned forward, branches clawing at his clothes as though to snag him, to keep him from moving on. Roots writhed beneath his boots, threatening to trip him. The world he had crafted with his own hands – his home – felt alien, hostile. An unease coiled in his chest. He had never known fear here, not until now.
At first, he told himself it was a glitch. A bug in the terrain, some oversight to be patched later. But then he stumbled into a clearing he didn’t remember placing.
The moonlight glistened across its centre, where a pool of water lay so still it seemed carved from glass. Around the pool stood trees with bark polished to mirrored surfaces, gleaming like obsidian windows.
He turned toward the first one.
And froze.
The reflection staring back wasn’t him – at least, not the him he knew. His mask twisted into something malicious, its painted smile stretched unnaturally, sharp as teeth. The eyes were hollow voids, blank and cruel. The reflection leaned closer, raising a finger to the smile, hushing him with a soundless whisper: You stole my freedom.
Dream’s breath caught. His chest clenched until he gasped, stumbling back, but his gaze snagged on another mirror.
This reflection was taller, looming. The mask’s lines were jagged, cut deep like scars carved into porcelain. In its hands was a flag, torn and blackened with soot. His own voice whispered from its mouth, low and damning: You stole my country.
Dream turned sharply away, but the next tree caught him. His cloak was stained, heavy with blood. Explosions crackled in the distance, red bleeding into the edges of his vision. The mask was expressionless this time, more terrifying in its blankness. You stole my sanity, it whispered, the sound pounding like a hammer inside his skull.
Each reflection piled upon the next, the voices swelling into a cacophony of accusations. The more he shook his head, the louder they grew.
“No,” he whispered, though his voice shook. “That’s not –”
He stumbled and fell to his knees. His palms struck the ground, and when he looked down, they were drenched in blood that hadn’t been there a moment ago. His stomach lurched. Slowly, almost unwillingly, his eyes lifted to the pool at the clearing’s heart.
His mask stared back at him, but painted red, the smile streaked as though in blood. Desperately, he ripped it away from his face, hoping for clarity, for the safety of recognition. But the water showed him no comfort. The face staring back was not his own. White hair fell like ash around scarred features. Lime-green eyes burned through him, unfamiliar and unkind. A single scar split his face in a great “X” across the bridge of his nose. His hands rose unbidden, trembling, until his fingers brushed skin – skin where the ridge of that scar should not exist, but did.
“This is what you will become,” the forest whispered, though its voice was the voice of every tree, every shadow, every echo. “A villain. A victim.”
Dream squeezed his eyes shut, against both vision and tears. His breath came ragged, but he forced it to still, counting each inhale, each exhale, until he steadied.
They are stronger because they hate me, he thought. If this is what I must become, then so be it.
When he opened his eyes, the reflection had vanished. Only moonlight shimmered across the water, rippling faintly with the truth of his own face: freckles across fair skin, hair like burnt honey curling against his cheeks, eyes green and clear. No scars.
His hands shook as he reached for his mask. He clipped it back into place. The blank smile stared up at him once more.
Dream rose. The path unfolded again, obedient now, the trees parting for their Admin. He walked out of the Forest of Codes. He walked his server like a ghost, both master and prisoner of his creation. The world bowed to him, but he bowed to its people. They would never see it, and he would never ask them to. Their unity was thanks enough.
Even if it meant that, in every story, he would always be the monster at the end.
Thank you so much to everyone who participated in Fantasy Month!
A big thanks to those who returned from last year to join in again, as well as those who just discovered this event for the first time. Even after 8 months, our little community is still going strong. You created a lot more pieces than I expected!
Don't forget to take a look through the #sixteenthdayevent tag, or to scroll through this blog's recent reblogs, since not every piece this month was tagged. And please let me know if your piece hasn't been reblogged yet.
The 16th might be over, but it's never too late to post a piece!
okay this is a touch late, but I did get it done! Well, the first chapter. Because I definitely want to continue this
thank you for the prompt ^^
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
in short, former necromancer Dream gets roped into helping the ghosts again. Or at least that's where this is heading
this was my first time participating in the @sixteenth-day-event and I had a lot of fun working on this! It's also really fun to see what other people made with their prompts :)
Fundy learns he is the heir to the throne of L'Manberg
As expected for a prompt combining my favourite genre (fantasy) with my favourite dsmp blorbo (Fundy), this kinda got away from me and I ended up having way too many ideas that I couldn't finish everything for today. Enjoy the first scene of what will hopefully be a longer fic!
@sixteenth-day-event
The throne room was silent as Prince Tommy knelt before the empty throne, the midday sun shining in from above and casting a glow around him. From behind the throne approached the regent, Eret, with the crown carried in their hands.
The rest of the room was still, save for the servants, who could only pause in their work for a moment to sneak glances at the coronation. Fundy was among them, craning his neck to peer around the guests while his practised hands gathered empty glasses on a tray. While the scene did intrigue Fundy, he was mostly watching so he could share its details with Niki, who was working in the kitchen and would miss the coronation entirely.
And then, right as Eret came to a halt in front of the Prince, the sun went out.
A gasp went around the room as it fell dark - even the sconces along the wall had gone out - and Fundy found himself peering through the gloom to try and figure out if it was a good gasp or a bad one. Some of the guests were muttering amongst themselves, but Prince Tommy hadn't risen and Eret seemed calm, so maybe this was how things were meant to go.
His eyes were drawn to the crown in Eret's hands. It glowed with a soft light, as if the sun still fell upon it, and was the sole bright point remaining in the room. His fingers itched with the desire to touch it.
Shaking his head to dismiss the urge, he focused on the tray he was holding as he prepared to slip through the shadows and head back to the kitchen. The sight of something shimmering made him pause. At first, he thought it was reflected light from the crown, but as the glittering specks grew into tiny stars dancing across his hands, he realised something weird was going on. They kept on growing, brighter and brighter, until it wasn't stars but the sun itself captured beneath his skin.
When he lifted his gaze, he froze at the sight of the whole room staring back at him. The guests, their whispers growing louder, Eret, their face mostly hidden behind tinted glasses, and worst of all, Prince Tommy, whose expression was caught somewhere between shock and incandescent rage.
All Fundy could think was that he wished he'd been stuck in the kitchen too.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Fic under the cut
"…well, can't say this is how I expected today to go," Techno drawled, staring down at Dream. "Never pegged you as the princess rescuing type, much less one to ask his greatest rival for help."
"I'm not, and normally I'd go with Sapnap and George, but they have their own problems to solve," Dream figdets with his drink, glaring at the wall. "And it's less of a princess and more of a prince."
Techno raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Is this not the quest to win the hand of the princess of Valoria, who has been locked away so not to be poisoned by the dangers of this world?"
"Well, yeah, but it's a little more complicated than that." Dream reaches into his bag, pulling out a sketch of two people. "Recognize this guy?"
One of the people in the sketch is clearly Dream, with his mask on the side of his head and grinning. The other is someone that Techno had seen around a couple of times, mostly with Dream or one of his friends, but hadn't paid much attention to. They have straightish hair and are smirking at the viewer, wearing a medalion of some kind.
"Yeah, I've seen the two of you hanging around. Why?" Techno squints at the sketch, trying to figure out what this guy had to do with anything.
"That's the princess."
Techno's head snaps up as his brain goes blank for a second.
"He goes by Punz, he/they, but his dad doesn't exactly know about that. He's operating under the assumption that Punz was pretending to be a man so as to better blend in as a merc, not that Punz is trans." Dream picks the sketch back up, tucking it back into his back. "Punz has been sneaking out of that stupid tower for a solid decade at this point, they're very crafty like that. They have no need for protection, and certainly don't want to be forced to marry the first knight to break into the tower. They have even less interest in being a puppet queen."
"I see. And where do I factor into all of this?" Techno asks. "Seems like the two of you could rescue him yourselves."
"There is some kind of magic that his dad is using to track him now, and one of the rules for winning his hand is that you have to be a knight."
"Dream, I am not marrying your friend."
Dream sputters. "What! No! I just need you to enter the competition, travel with me, pretend like you were the one who rescued them, and then gift them to me!"
"…You know, I'm starting to think that Phil should threaten to stop trading with Valoria, because that sounds horrifying." Techno taps his fingers on the table. "I'm not sure I'm good with giving you some kind of slave." Even if you seem like the kind of man to work tiredlessly to free said slave.
"Well, uh. He wouldn't. Be my slave. this kinda just." Dream takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "It kinda just shortens the engagement period and means our wedding is going to have literally none of our friends." Dream's forehead cresses. "Maybe we have a second wedding that's our own."
"Ah, well, you know I've always been a romantic." Dream snorts at Techno's attempt to lighten the conversation. "So you know what, sure, I'll help. Not like I've got much else going on."
Dream's shoulders slump. "Thank you so much, I wasn't sure what I was going to do if you said no. It's not like I know any other knights who don't want to execute me."
"Maybe don't go breaking into so many castles, and you wouldn't have this problem." Techno kicks at Dream before standing and stretching. "Alright, let's go save your prince."
HD was a god who was banished by XD, chained inside a mortal who is always too tired to sleep for days straight. But one day the human came across his badly wounded best friend (lover) and the rush of emotions broke the chains that kept the god trapped in eternal darkness. His newfound powers in the meantime help the human heal his soulmate but once things settle down, he will look for revenge.
If you were to ever anger a server guardian, well- first off, I'm sorry for you, but second, you'd expect them to immediately smite you, kill you, ban you... essentially make your life a living hell, right?
Okay, so why is Sam staring at a copy of himself right now?
4'706 words
link to ao3 (contains extra rambles)
Sam startles, one hand falling to the glowstone behind him, the other to his overloud heart. "What the-" he breathes, then, "Hello?"
"Hello, Awesamdude," the server guardian floating before him says, voice too deep to quite match that of his oracle. "What are you working on?"
"Uhm- I don't- don't you already know?" Sam gestures at the obsidian walls, far from the height they should be but already a good area marker. "It's pretty hard to miss, isn't it?"
XD hums disinterested.
Sam himself isn't all that familiar with the guardian; he knows the basics of a guardian's duties, that they manifest with new servers sometimes and that they're pretty rare. He also knows how this one immediately chose to attach to the admin, Dream.
It doesn't mean this visit is welcome of course. It's never a good sign.
"I suppose," he finally responds.
There's an inherent haze to XD; he almost fades at the edges, blends into his background. Supposedly it isn't all that inaccurate to how he actually functions. Sam straightens a little. "Why do you ask, then? What are you, uh- What brings you 'round here?"
"Just... looking."
The voice is far too familiar to him, almost the same as Dream's passive awe at the prison. It's just a little off. Echoey and distorted. Lower with dissonant overtones.
The next time Sam blinks, there's nothing in front of him. Only the silhouette on the back of his eyelids.
//
"Pretty good, pretty good."
Sam stands back as Dream flicks the lever once again. His mask is on fully, covering his expression, but Sam's been close enough to this man to not need that. Dream's impressed.
"Right? Took me, like, hours." Sam watches the door open itself, leaving no cracks between the iron blocks. "But it works, now."
Dream nods along. "This is all pretty impressive, Sam."
"You think so?"
"Yeah, really!" Dream steps through, walking along where Sam's already planning for more security. "Like, look at this place, it's cool as hell!"
"Yeah?" Sam allows himself to preen a little. "Your little, uh, your god showed up the other day. Know anything about that?"
Dream's hand flexes. "XD? No, I- I don't know about that." He turns to Sam, having crossed the floor. Sam is stood in the middle. "Did he say anything?"
"Just asked me what I was working on."
"And what did you say?"
"Told him not to touch anything."
Dream snorts. Subtly, he moves to feel his pulse. "Well I don't think there will be any problems with him. He's sort of a bitch."
Sam feels the temperature drop. "I don't think that's smart to say."
His hand falls off his pulse point. "Either way, he's not an obstacle."
"I sure hope so." Sam finally crosses the distance. "He creeps me out."
Dream laughs again. "Then he's doing his job."
//
The entrance to the prison is almost so dramatic it makes Sam laugh.
The tall pillars, the black and white theming, the sounds - it's all so ominous it almost looks orchestrated.
But it's what Dream wanted, so Sam does as requested and mines more obsidian.
Sometimes he wonders why Dream needs all of this anyways. It must be for an enemy of his, right? Tommy springs to mind, but surely Dream wouldn't subject someone to something like this.
Surely.
"What are you doing?"
Sam's sword is out faster than he can process, pointed at the faultless neck of XD. "Oh my god, why do you have to sneak up on me every time?" He puts his sword away; it's useless here.
"Should I introduce my arrival, instead?"
Sam sighs. "What do you want?"
"I was... curious, you could say." XD glances to the field of cauldrons behind Sam. "Farming lava I see?"
"Well we can't go to the End for obsidian, now can we?" Sam drops another bucket of lava into the water, barely stopping to watch it crystallise before taking out the next. "...unless?"
XD bristles and a faint breeze blows through Sam's fur. "No."
"What if I gave you something in exchange?" He stands up, dusting his empty hands off. "A favour, perhaps?"
"What could you possibly offer me that I'd want?"
"Well I'm no Technoblade but... you know. The world works on favours, dear Dream-echs-dee, I'm sure you know that."
XD watches him. He's almost touching the ceiling of the mined-out area Sam has made his farm in. "I know," he says. "My answer doesn't change."
Sam sighs. Through the smoke he mumbles, "Then don't be surprised I need this much."
He manages to mine out multiple blocks of obsidian before XD speaks up again. "Why are you even building something so big?"
"It's a prison."
"For who?"
Another block disappears into Sam's inventory. "I don't know."
"Who does?"
"It's for Dream." Another block. "He commissioned it."
A hum. "And you blindly follow orders?"
Sam stops. He isn't blindly following orders, he's- well, it's partially for money, but he doesn't know what Dream would do if Sam wasn't there to veer him onto the kinder path of evil.
Sam is keeping Dream in check. Right?
"You don't want to be on Dream's bad side."
"Oh, you're scared of Dream?" XD laughs, awfully familiar yet nothing like it. He's been floating in one spot the whole time, but now moves to stand above Sam's mining pool. "What's there to be scared of?"
Sam doesn't know how to answer such a question.
//
Sometimes Sam comes home, feeds Fran, eats whatever remains in his cabinets, and falls asleep without even removing his armour. Today is one of those days.
Building something as monotonous and samey as Pandora's Vault - what a stupid name; what big evil exists on this server other than the one person who won't be in it? - is boring as hell, despite all the cool circuits and interiors. The redstone starts to swim in Sam's vision until he can see lines in the back of his head when he's too lost in thought, and the pattern of unsanded obsidian is almost his fingerprint.
It's a grating job, one day into the next. He's nowhere near done and it's already been longer than he can take.
He feels less and less like a person every day. Does he just follow orders? Is that what he does? He's convinced himself that he's in the right for being the one to take on a task that, inevitably, someone would have to do, but...
"Fran, what do you think?"
Fran, with all the wisdom in her big black eyes, says nothing. She's a dog after all, not an oracle.
"Yeah, thought so." He scratches at the top of her snout. "Come on, it's nap time. Tomorrow will be a better day, right girl?"
She doesn't answer before Sam's fallen into dreamland.
Sam's dreams have been weird, lately. Snippets of buildings he's never seen, the Pandora hallways in layouts he doesn't know, strange visions of red and iron and DreamXD is always there.
Why is the server guardian in Sam's dreams? It seems like the kind of thing that should concern him more but all he can do is think in circles.
When he wakes up the sun is barely inching over the horizon. Everything's a tedium. Wake up, maybe eat, and work.
Sam doesn't expect anything to change for a long, long time.
//
One day - once again mining obsidian, no surprise there - XD appears and...
"You know I'd appreciate," Sam hollers across the hall, "if you stopped staring at me!"
But XD does nothing. He stares as Sam works, fur standing and skin prickling. It's discomforting, actively hindering his progress.
Sam fills another chest, closes the lid, and comes face to face with the guardian.
"Do you think you're fit for the role?" XD asks.
Sam sighs. "I am."
//
It almost works. It's so close, and yet the signal doesn't reach, no matter how many times he checks the line or adds a repeater.
"Maybe you should just rebuild the line," Dream proposes, quietly chewing a golden apple. He's been there for a while, providing commentary. Sam isn't sure it's appreciated.
He adds another pile of dust, presses the button and watches. The signal still fizzles out.
"You might just be cursed, Sam."
"It's redstone, not magic."
Dream shrugs. He's on edge: pacing, checking his weapons, doing what Sam thinks is inventory reach practice. The prison's not very close to done but it works for the most part - Dream was very impressed - and if he needs it, Sam is ready to act as warden. Everything should be going to plan.
To himself, Sam mumbles, "Who the hell needs this level of security?" and knows Dream heard it when he scoffs.
"It's none of your business, Sam."
Sam disagrees. But it isn't his job to say that.
//
"So," Sam says, "What do you think?"
XD hums. "It's big."
"That- Well, it is, but like- anything else? You know, all the redstone, the hours put into it, the security..?"
A breeze runs by them. Sam is used to it by now. "I think it's a plight on this world." XD turns to him. Larger than Sam, he'd been intimidating at first, but now he's just a part of Sam's day. "I do not like it."
Sam hums. "Well, tell Dream that."
XD says nothing in response.
//
The ceiling of his bedroom is unfamiliar to him.
He isn't home all that often. Work has consumed Sam's life. Fran sleeps steady on his chest and he holds in the urge to cry.
What's become of him?
//
Leading Dream into the prison is a painful ordeal.
Not because Dream fights. On the contrary, he's eerily calm; he just lost two lives and Sam can feel the air cling to them both. He walks, one foot in front of the other, following all orders, until they're in the cell.
Dream looks around. His mask is on and Sam doesn't think that will be for long.
"How long do you think forever is, Sam?" he asks, hands twitching and face tilted to the lectern.
Sam turns to leave. "It's a while."
//
"What now?"
Sam doesn't even look. "What do you mean?"
"You finished." XD sounds upset. Sam knows he's at fault. "What's next?"
The food in front of him doesn't appeal. For once, XD is a welcome guest. "Guard," he sighs. "Just guard."
"That doesn't sound like you."
"Nothing sounds like me."
XD scoffs. His voice still sounds off-kilter, but sometimes, when Sam loses himself enough, it almost starts to sound like Dream. Like a Dream that still wants to talk to him. Like a Dream that hadn't tried to kill two children for no reason-
Sam pushes the stew away. XD sits at the other end of the table, occupying the only other chair. In a better world, sitting there would be one of his friends. Sam doesn't know if anyone wants to talk to him anymore.
"Why are you still here?" Sam asks, voice down. "What do you want?"
XD takes long enough to think for Sam to dismiss whatever he would say.
//
The next time Sam sees the prison he's dizzy, nauseous and his vision is all blurry.
He hasn't eaten - eaten something other than himself, that is - in multiple days. A different kind of obsidian has splintered itself into his skin. He keeps spitting red. The prison is the closest safe location.
How does he get in? He slept at home but he doesn't feel much better today. There must be a secret entrance or something, it seems like the kind of thing he-
"Looking for something?"
Bleary, Sam turns. He's standing in knee-height water. XD floats above the lake. "Oh. Hello, XD."
"Hello, Sam." XD comes closer. The water is really cold and Sam doesn't want to stand in it for any longer than he has to. "What are you looking for?"
"Uhm, do you... do you know how to get into the prison?"
XD looks him up and down. "I can let you in," he says. "Do you want me to do that?"
Sam nods. His eyes close for just a second too long. "Mhm."
The next overlong blink, XD is gone. Sam wades back to the entrance - at least the portal is warm.
XD's voice booms in his ears uncomfortably loud. "Step through the portal."
Sam does as asked. The nether is warm but he still feels cold. He's again instructed to step through, so he does.
The prison lobby is a familiar room. The sight of obsidian unsettles him somewhat but there's nothing he can do about it. "I'm here." XD is nowhere to be seen.
"Welcome to the prison."
Sam blinks. That was his voice but he didn't say that. "XD?" he asks again.
And again, his own voice says back to him, "You didn't schedule a visit."
Still dizzy, Sam rubs at his eyes, failing to clear his spotty, blurry vision. "Who is that?" There's a blur of gold behind the front desk. "Who are you?"
Hands weigh on his shoulders, uncomfortable on his feverish skin. "I may have made a few..." XD hums. "changes, while you were gone."
"Wh- why? What did you do?"
The ground under Sam shifts. Suddenly, he stands in front of the desk, staring at... a mirror?
But it isn't quite him: he knows he looks far less composed at the moment, and he doesn't stand as tall as this reflection does. Its hair is shorter, its armour shinier, and it doesn't really look like Sam. It's like... an idea of him, maybe. A perfect version.
"Since you were busy with the egg," XD tells him, two hands still on Sam's pauldron-less shoulders, "I thought the prison might need a new warden. Don't you think?"
This Sam looks mean. The real Sam says as much.
XD laughs. Sam stands outside the prison entrance with no trace of XD.
//
Sam brushes it off as a hallucination, maybe even a fever dream. His dreams, after all, have been more and more vivid every night, until he wakes up and takes a walk around his base, just to make sure it wasn't real. He makes sure to take proper care of himself - has tried to move on to his next project, the untameable force of creation he is - and has rested enough that he can stand upright again, no weird nausea.
On the fifth day since he escaped, eight days since he last did his patrol in Pandora (which he still thinks is a strange name, but far more apt now). He dons his newly made armour, takes his shiny new tools, and makes it all the way to the prison.
The weird memory haunts him, but he finds the secret entrance, swims through, and slowly finds his way around. It feels strange in here: the way the air droops before a thunderstorm, the way it binds when XD's nearby.
It's odd; Sam hasn't seen him in multiple days. He should be happy about it, probably, but all it makes him feel is dread.
He makes it to the guard room. A set of armour is missing.
Nothing appears to be wrong. At least not until he reaches the lobby.
Déjà vu. Something stands behind the desk. This time Sam is certain: it's him.
The clone turns to him. In a tone far colder than Sam's own he asks- demands, "Where'd you come from?"
"I- who are you?"
Sam steps closer. The clone stands straighter. "How did you get in here?"
"I used the secret- no, no, you're not questioning me on how I got into my own prison!" Sam approaches, noting just how kitted out this guy looks. The only person whose armour ever looked this proper - this intimidating, too, with all its sharp edges and dark patterns - sits in the cell Sam hasn't seen in more than a week. "I don't have a twin!"
Then, he realises. Louder than he's ever yelled, Sam orders, "XD!"
"You called?"
XD fades even more now - the blackish-purple obsidian bleeds green and white, Sam can almost feel his hands yet sees all four in front of him, the air tastes of ozone and something sharp, acrid. "I want to know what the hell is going on in my prison!"
XD tuts. "You dare to take that tone?" he asks, and the curiosity, naivete, is gone from his voice. It's cold and predatory. "Did you forget who I am, somehow?"
"I've said plenty of things to you, chill out." The clone still hasn't moved beyond staring at Sam, eyes harsh. "Explain. Now."
"I told you, someone needed to do your job while you were away." XD moves - Sam still can't tell quite where he actually is but he definitely moved. "He's exactly as much of a prick as you are."
Sam stares at the clone, him and his mean mien, and runs.
If XD and this- thing have been keeping guard, who knows what state Dream is in? Have they fed him? Have they finished the courtyard - the one part Sam was planning to continue working on? Does everything even work?
He's tackled into the wall. "You cannot visit the prisoner," the clone says, voice still uncanny, and holds the grip of his trident at Sam's neck.
"You're not-" Sam struggles against the hold, for once cursing how difficult he is to move by force. "-the warden-!"
"And you are?" The fake manages to push him to the floor, holding him there by the trident pointed at his chest. Under the filter, Sam can't see his expression, but is pretty sure it's a sneer. "You are hereby banned from the property of the prison. Understand?"
"But-"
The end of the trident clanks against his chestplate. "Understand?"
Sam glares. "Fine."
//
Well this means he has more time to work on his new project. Sam supposes.
Every time he looks over he sees the large obsidian construct, one he spent so long building which has now been overtaken. He's not happy about it. Not at all.
He can't ask anyone to visit to make sure. What if the clone is there only when Sam is there? What if one day there's nobody there? Sam sure doesn't want to check, not when he's confident he couldn't take a clone of himself with god on its side in a fight.
"Aaay, Sam!"
Sam looks down from his scaffolding. At the bottom stands Tommy, waving his arms. "Hey, Tommy!" Sam calls back, tossing his pickaxe into his inventory. "What's up?"
"Oh, nothing much, nothing much." When Sam reaches the ground again, Tommy grins at him. "This looks sick, what is it?"
He looks up. It's not much right now but he's got high hopes. "I'm building a bank." He looks back. "Did you need anything? Headed somewhere?"
Tommy shakes his head. "Saw something new, thought I'd come by, you know. Didn't expect to see you out of the prison, Dream drove you insane yet?"
Sam freezes. "I- uh, yeah, it's-" he coughs. "A little claustrophobic, a little- a little dark, not really my thing." Sam exhales, feeling the burn of anxious smoke in his throat. He's thankful for the filter; Tommy can't see his nerves. "Came to work on something else."
"Huh. It seems to be going well." Tommy looks up and hums. "The prison's fucking creepy, man. So hot as well, it's insane." He shivers. "I'm glad he's the one in there, bitch deserves it."
...hot? How does Tommy know that the prison is hot? Did he guess? But- no, obsidian is usually cold.
Did- has Tommy visited?
"...yeah," Sam says, finally. Tommy looks at him weird but doesn't comment for once.
"Well I'll leave you to it. I'm on a quest, I need to go collect fucking logs for this guy, I'm a professional lumb-arr-smith so I've got it handled, I've got it so handled they all love me for my lumber."
Sam nods. "That's great, Tommy."
"Right?" Tommy pulls his axe out, a chipped iron one. "I'll go get more wood Sam." He pulls his little chatphone out. "Chat, that's a cock joke. Laugh."
Sam doesn't pay him mind as he climbs back to the top of his scaffolding. Only when Tommy's out of his sight does he falter, sitting down on the wall.
He smooths his hair out, pulls his mask off, and breathes pure, black smoke. "Fuck," he breathes. "It's so over for me."
//
People continue to be shocked when Sam meets them.
Apparently the copy inside the prison still hasn't vanished. Nobody else seems to realise that the Sam in the prison isn't the Sam currently scaling quartz walls. He'd be more offended if it didn't mean he couldn't stomach dinner.
Do people think he's like that? That he'd attack someone just for daring to be concerned?
XD has lost his mind.
He talked to Quackity some time ago. He said the prison was impressive. Sam thinks that might be the problem: the prison. Sam is cursed.
When before it had been XD, now it's Tommy, coming to share a few words every day. He's always busy with something: gathering wood, stone, concrete, once he said he was farming wheat. Sam may be curious but he doesn't like to get involved in other people's business, not with the number of mercenaries and-or assassins-for-hire on this server.
"Awesam my man!" Speak of the devil. "What's up!"
"Hello, Tommy!" Sam keeps placing tiles, only turning briefly to wave.
Tommy, who's playing music on his chatphone louder than really needed, comes closer. He looks troubled. "Working hard or hardly working, ay?"
"Working hard, hopefully."
"Sam, do you ever- Sam, do you ever take breaks? How about a holiday?" Tommy taps his foot. "I swear, every time I see you you're at work. Sam, stop working."
Sam rises, back aching as he does. His legs are tired. "I don't rest," he jokes. "I only work."
"I know. Whatever Sam, do you know where to get kelp?"
"Who's making you get kelp?" He should light this place. He's not a big fan of other creepers, right now. "You go to an ocean, it's that simple?"
"Well I need kelp like I need women. That means I really need kelp." Tommy looks to the sky. "Kelp. Who called it that? It's such a stupid word."
Sam ignores him. "Why are you doing all these quests, anyway?" His eyes widen. "Please tell me you're not into mercenary work."
"What?" Tommy squints at him. "Sam you're not that old, come on."
"What? No, Tommy, seriously, you haven't told me."
"...Sam. The hotel."
"The- yeah, I know about the hotel. What about the hotel?"
"Sam, you- Sam Nook! You- I thought you built him, what the fuck?"
Sam... Nook? "I- no, yeah, I remember now!" Sam laughs, catches a breeze and knows XD is listening. "Sam Nook! Of course, sorry, I... haven't been sleeping well."
Oh when Sam catches that guardian. He doesn't care how well the server functions without him or how dear it is to Dream, XD is dead the moment he dares to give himself a corporeal form.
"It's because you're working so much," Tommy huffs. "Go take a break, man. You're going to melt."
That description feels accurate. "You know, I might." Sam taps all of his paws along the ground, sore and probably in need of a brush. "The bank won't go anywhere, right?"
"Ay, hardly working for once!"
Tommy pats him on the back - as high as he can reach, at least - and Sam smiles down at him. Maybe a self-care day is what he needs.
//
It's three days later that he returns, feeling much better.
He'd taken those three days to sleep, think through his plans, brush the stress-knots out of his fur, and ignore everything happening outside his home.
His secret home came in handy. Nobody could bother him there. It was just him and Fran. It was perfect, just the two of them.
But now Sam's back. He went to go look at the hotel and, indeed, there was another clone of him in front of that. This one looked cheerful, greeting him when he came close, but also like he was more of a machine than a person; robotic in his movements, talking through comms.
If Tommy thinks Sam built this one, it wouldn't be too strange for messages between them to show up. Overall Sam Nook is far better of a Sam than the current warden of Pandora's Vault is.
With his rounds done, he returns to the bank. He should go talk to Quackity at some point, maybe he needs him.
Maybe someone needs him.
It's hard not to be demotivated. The world moved on without Sam- the world is pretending to be Sam. How does he fight it except leave the server for good, losing all his work, friends (what remain of those) and attachments? XD can't follow him across hubs, yes, but...
No matter. Soon enough Tommy will pass by on another fetch quest and Sam will feel a little more needed.
Sam finishes one pillar for good.
He finishes another.
He finally lights the whole build.
The sun starts to set and Sam becomes suspicious. He can't ask anyone; what if the other Sams are involved? What if everyone acts like Tommy did: doubt, suspicion? What if XD hears? Then Sam will be in such deep shit he can barely imagine it, let alone wish it upon himself.
It must be no matter; Tommy is unrealiable on a good day and Sam has had nothing but bad days this far. It's incredible the kid has kept his habit this long.
So Sam goes home and he isn't that worried, all thins considered. Surely he'll see Tommy tomorrow.
The day after that.
Two days later.
What can Sam do but wait? Maybe this is his limbo. Maybe his limbo is haunting the narrative. Maybe Sam will be forgotten about at some point; nobody talks to him besides Tommy because everyone thinks he's at the prison.
And when Tommy does appear again...
Well, he isn't happy to see Sam.
//
"XD?"
Sam stands in the middle of a dense forest - one he grew himself with lots of saplings and bonemeal and manpower. "I know you're watching!" he shouts, not even echoing. "Show yourself!"
There's the usual breeze - an ever-present chill Sam has learned to live with - but no other mark of the guardian.
If Sam had more of a death wish he'd go straight to the prison. Unfortunately Sam values his lives.
"Where are you now, huh?" He spins in a circle, trampling the fresh grass. "You do all that and don't even show?"
What the fuck does Sam take Tommy's death as but a taunt? Is it not enough to punish only Sam but everyone around him, too?
"What did I do? XD, you're such a terrible server guardian, you-!"
In a blink, XD's presence wraps around Sam and his grove. "You ask what you did?" his voice booms, rings in Sam's ears. "Was my warning not enough? Do you not know how to listen, Awesamdude?"
Sam laughs. "Warning or not, why are you hurting other people?"
XD hums. The air vibrates with it. "Do you think you would've done any better?"
"Yes! I wouldn't have let Tommy die, I wouldn't banish people from visiting, I wouldn't be so obsessed with a building that nobody wants to talk to me anymore!" Sam spits at the ground. "You're an idiot, XD!"
A laugh makes Sam shiver. "Funny you say that," he says, and Sam's instincts stop pinging. He's gone.
Sam slams his axe into the nearest tree and leaves it there. He can make a new one.
//
When Sam reaches the top of the stairs leading up the Prime Path, he spots Ponk. He almost manages to wave before Ponk glares at him and turns away. His silhouette looks strange.
Months later, Sam will leave the server. There's nothing left for him here. Dream will build him a grave once he's out. Tommy will repair the ruins of the bank. XD won't miss him.
Technoblade robs Pandora's Vault, but of course this vault isn't part of a treasure trove or a bank, so it's really more a kidnapping than a heist.
Or: Techno finds out Dream lives in the prison and does something about it.
Or: Techno breaks Dream out again for his own good.
Snippet:
In that moment, Techno knew what he had to do. It was time for jailbreak number 2, even if this time it was less consensual. Perhaps that made it more of a heist than a rescue. The prison was called a vault after all.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
so yeah I uh... kinda forgot it was supposed to be fantasy themed oopsie so anyways enjoy this post prison shenanigans instead. Thank you @sixteenth-day-event for putting on this event again, I had a really good time writing it and getting a chance to let loose and use some of the fun headcanon ideas I've talked about recently. :) And yeah it was supposed to be a oneshot but I didn't get it finished in time, so stay tuned for chapter 2. Hope y'all enjoy. <3
