"we need a gardener around here."
y/n fits right into Manberg's presidential house working as a gardener.
maybe they attract more than just blooming petals.
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yandere!dreamsmp x reader
(they/them pronouns used for non-specific gender purposes)
* R...
key - trigger warnings!: kidnapping, manipulation, possessiveness, obsessiveness, mentions of Stockholm syndrome.
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HEADQUARTERS OF POGTOPIA.
SO LET'S TRY TO SUMMARIZE WHAT'S BEEN HAPPENING: y/n has been stuck- kidnapped by lovesick-ninny wilbur because of his undying obsession with his so-called "archangel." luckily, they figured out where they were through techno and tubbo. they came to understand that they were housed by a place and organization run by wilbur called pogtopia:a group that's especially been rebelling against manberg due to its raw history in a political war and pure rivalry, hence wilbur and king having a meeting that one faithful day where y/n also happened to meet wilbur for the first time—they sometimes wondered what would've happened if they walked down a different hallway and never crossed paths.
tubbo, to your great surprise, worked for both sides, being a sort of.. reverse spy depending on how you viewed the situation. he spilled information about manberg to pogtopia behind king's back. you also came to learn that tommy, techno, and wilbur were siblings, phil being their father. all in all, the story of blossomed hatred between the two kingdoms weaved together for you like an ugly sweater. apparently, manberg used to be a smaller, desolate kingdom called l'manberg, ruled by wilbur as head president and tommy as vice. l'manberg was controversial for conning the electoral system, and strictly setting the standard that only those of european descent can become residents on its land; so much so to the point of building walls to mark its territory and split itself apart as a sub-kingdom of the smp, arousing some commotion with the greater smp where just authority and plain discrimination was highly debated.
it was intense—for a lack of better words. even quackity, king, and the tricky trio ran against what they saw as tyranny. after a fair election the second time around, king and quackity won, king putting his presidency into action by exiling wilbur and tommy. hence, the origins of manberg, the rebellion of pogtopia, and the controversial politics constantly leashing the two together and casting grey rain clouds over their relationship. king over time built an empire, welcoming all, and soon upgrading the title of president to emperor. it was a lot for you to bask in, but everything about the heated drama between the two kingdoms became clearer over the course of time, and explained more than you could've figured out on your own.
every night, you slept captured within wilbur's arms, having to handle forced affection and the sound of his voice whispering sweet nothings in pursuit of getting you to switch into a state of Stockholm syndrome—his plan was a little too obvious. now that you were physically here, he had the patience. he knew with the entirety of his wretched and tainted soul that you were destined to be with him—to fix the decrepit cigarette burn staining his heart—and that you'll learn to love him. and of course he'd wait for as long as earth's full existence; it was required in order for you to return the affection he craved. it will happen. it has to happen.
meanwhile, you felt like you were whorling into a slow-descending insanity, trying not to take in the warm manipulation that wilbur was trying to shove into your brain like it was a full-time job. you kept reminding yourself to be hard-headed, and focus on the discomfort you were feeling the more you spent time with him. he was the spitting image of a certain dark blonde, raccoon tail-stranded wild child that you weren't about to let get to you, and both of their intentions with you were not healthy. all those guttural reactions and bug-crawling feelings transformed into something you finally embraced, disconnecting yourself from the good that wilbur tried to bring you—it was time to be level-headed, to think independently, and to become your own protector.
you didn't know what felt worse though: being cuddled (more like strangled) and babied by a maniac, or having no idea what was happening in the outside world. ' how long have i been here? ' you constantly thought to yourself. has it been days? weeks? months? there was no calendar for you to check. you were just locked in a windowless box with no clocks or exits and expected to breath as if you were guaranteed to see the sun rising the very next day. every time you tried to find a door that may lead you out towards freedom, it was locked.
the only people keeping you sane and put together during times where you felt like toppling over unconscious were tubbo, techno, tommy, and especially phil. you started getting closer to the four of them, feeling safe as they expressed their concerns and awareness of wilbur's obsessiveness. they constantly checked up on you, ensuring you got some fresh air and some time away from your kidnapper.
they could only promise to protect you and try their best to provide comfort. unfortunately, they couldn't help you escape, fearing what wilbur may do to them—or you for that matter—and possibly risking death itself just cause they rubbed their brother the wrong way by involving you. tubbo didn't dare want to put yours or other people's lives at risk with the manhunt that was going on, keeping his mouth sealed completely shut about your whereabouts.
at least all of you had one thing that kept you guys closer: a fear of wilbur. you were lucky enough to have tommy and tubbo humoring you every time they could, making you crack a fresh smile that wilbur was never able to do. that frustrated him.
you were also lucky to have techno and phil taking care of you, phil always making your favorite foods and teaching you how to cook, techno always reading books to you to distract you, keeping your mind working with the analysis of every aspect of a novel: the characters, the story, the author, anything really to keep brain power running.
with wilbur being a tad bit jealous of you having a happier time with his family more than him, it made him try even harder to flatter you, desiring to win you over. it only made him act sweeter towards you, treating you with tenderness and acting more like a gentlemen than ever before. it also surprisingly prompted him to give you more time with his family, giving him more time to stalk you, observing the way his family was making you smile and laugh, hoping to crack the code to make you feel the same way around him.
nowadays, your updates on wilbur included him playing guitar, singing your favorite songs to make you fall asleep; him cuddling you with more gentleness; him being less forceful and manipulative, trying to lull you through kindness instead. even if you felt safer with him and started faking smiles to please his efforts, you still had a discomforting pit in your stomach that would never leave you for the longest time. you weren't going to be keen on letting him cave in on your full affection- that you were sure of.
like every night, wilbur tucked you in, planting a soft kiss on your forehead, both of you smiling at each other as you giggled. he liked to hear those soft giggles before bed. it was more beautiful than any chord from his guitar. "i'll be in bed soon. give me a few minutes, sweetheart. just rest up." he reassured softly, his smile widening. you simply nodded, giving the teddy bear that he gifted to you in your arms a small squeeze.
he chuckled at your cuteness, eventually cutting his attention away from you and walking out of the room. you sighed out of slight relief, turning on your side and hugging the blankets close to your body. you let yourself stare at the wall for a moment, basking in the quiet atmosphere which seemed to be so still that you could've sworn time paused. suddenly, you felt a familiar forcefulness take over your body once again, a cloth with a strong hand on top closing over your face, easily entrapping you in an unconscious state. every detail from the pressing of your body to the bed to you making a desperate effort in squirming out of an iron grasp was utterly reminiscent of the night wilbur kidnapped you.. except this time, you had no idea who your perpetrator was.
