𝒫𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑜𝓅𝒽𝑜𝒷𝒾𝒶 [Dream x Reader]

36. Don't pressure pig man ):

Don't pressure pig man ):
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
In which you come back to life, only to have
the power of teleportation. According to Tubbo, at least
_________________________________________

-Ynastier on twitter

Dying was fun. You should do it more often.

You've never died before - and therefore you hadn't known what to expect when you had thrown yourself off that stage, but it definitely wasn't nothing. And nothing was exactly what it was.

It hadn't hurt at all. In fact, you don't even remember hitting the ground. The only thing you remembered, was the priceless face of Schlatt as you had jumped to your death. The look of defeat had been plastered all over his face once realizing you had outsmarted him. Sure, it had cost you a life but it had still been worth it. What had they been thinking anyway? That you'd let yourself get captured? You would rather die... Quite literally. You did die.

And it wasn't like you hadn't gained something from it either. Now, Schlatt wouldn't be able to locate Pogtopia, and you and your friends would be safe until the war would finally break out.

Well, unless your little friend, Dream, would change his mind and show them the way. You still couldn't believe he had thrown you under the bus like that, but that was a battle for another time.

You woke up in your bed with a gasp. Fresh air filled your lungs and you inhaled it desperately as if you had just run a marathon. You felt completely new, like your body had been reset. You had been very tired these past few days, but now you were filled with energy. The wounds on your palms had disappeared as well. Your skin was incredibly clean and soft. Even your hair was too.

You kept examining your body for a few minutes. The scar from when you had stabbed yourself with an arrow was still there, so you guessed scars were permanent even after dying. You were still in awe, though. There were absolutely no wounds or marks from when you had hit the ground. No broken ribs, no hole in the head, no fresh blood. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You were glad you had died the way you did, and not by Schlatt's sword. You had been lucky you had been killed instantly and not slowly - that way you didn't feel any pain.

You used your non-existent abs to pull yourself out of the bed and stand up. You looked down to see your clothes were just as dirty as always. Guess death hadn't bothered fixing that. You should change soon, but right now, you needed to check up on your friends.

The walk from your bed to the door was quite enjoyable. You felt as light as a feather, almost like you were floating. It must be the after-effects of dying because normally, leaving your bed would take an eternal war.