"You'll always be mine princess" "That's because you'll always need me, Clay. I'm everything you can't control." After leaving the great nation of L'manburg for several months, you return in the midst of a war, everything's on the line, how much will you sacrifice to save your brother Tommy? The events taking place in the story will not be the same as the actual SMP for plot purposes. This is my first ever fanfic or story of any sort, so please be nice. Started 03/01/2021 Finished 29/09/2021 500k reads thank you so much <3

dream x reader!! "shit that's the boss of the most dangerous gang" she mutters under her breath there's smut🙄 AYO #1 in xreader WTF #1 in minecraft WTF #1 in dreamteam WTF #1 in live WTF #1 in twitch WTF. #2 in dreamxreader #2 in dreamwastakenxreader #3 in dreamwastaken #3 in dream

"Can I tell you a secret?" he says in a hushed voice in the ill-illuminated room. "Spill," I smiled, thinking it was going to be something stupid like he peed his bed till he was six. Those were the kind of secrets we've been blurting out for the past thirty minutes as the tiredness of the late night got to us. "I'm Dream." he said in total seriousness, "Like the minecraft youtuber." I was quiet for a second before I laughed out loud.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK TWO -- Approaching Anoitos' temple again, you opened the door, turning as you stepped inside to close it again. The door closing with a satisfying clunk, you spun back around, intending to just quickly bow your head and grab your beads without much circumstance. You were not expecting to see a man, mid-way through stuffing his face with the plate of offerings you had brought, at the altar, his eyes blown wide with panic and focused on you. You stared back at him. "I- you- what are you doing? Who are you? How-?" You turned halfway back to the door, intending to run for one of the guards. "Wait!" The man's voice drew your attention back to him, just in time to see his appearance shift slightly - like there was something behind the mirage of his skin. For a moment - the man was gone, and in his place, a living replica of the hulking gold warrior depicted in the statue took his place. Your hand dropped from the handle of the door, staring up at the god before you. Out of all the times for your prayers to be answered... and of all ways, like this... "See?" He said, shrinking back to the man you had seen before, the boyish smile you knew so well still on his face. "It's just me!" Standing before you, with crumbs of bread on his face, was Anoitos, somehow - impossibly - in the flesh.

Caught in a war L'Manburg can't win, Wilbur offers up one last thing. You.

You don't know who you are, everything that you used to know about yourself is gone. Yet there is one person in this world that knows you the most but he is trapped in a prison. So you do the only thing you can think of to get him to talk, you make a deal.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK ONE --- Your eyes trailed up to the balcony, taking stock of the man who was perched there, hands resting on the railing as he peered down at the crowd that had just entered the room. Broad shoulders were only accentuated by plated armor, polished to a bronze sheen. You had seen this man before, during military processions and that sort of thing. The prison warden, and one of the caesar's previous champions. Samuel. The warden of the prison underneath the colosseum.

"I'd jump in the cadillac with you," I jokingly said. "Oh shove off," he replied as he turned away to hide his smile. u should just read the story u can click off if u happen to not like it ;)

"I'll read it out for you." Anne said, handing the cigarette back to you. "Wanted; for breaking and entering and robbery. Unknown bandit seen leaping from a window of a bank in Kempton, may be walking with a limp from the fall. Suspected to be about 5'8" and stocky build. Should any leads arise please contact local authorities." --- You hadn't even seen him there, obscured in the darkness of night - and it was obvious that he hadn't been expecting anyone to come out back. He startled, stumbling away from where he had been leaning, and your heart leapt into your throat, surprised in the worst way possible. So surprised, that you threw the bag of vegetable scraps at him as a form of self defense. The bag bounced harmlessly against the man's chest and landed on the ground. Your eyes darted to it first, but then up to the man you had thrown it at - taking in his features from the light streaming out of the still-open door. He wasn't too tall, but he had the build of someone who had known a farm life before - broad shoulders and muscle made for work, not show. His clothes were practical, and he carried a pack strapped to his back. It was his face that was the most interesting though - he couldn't have been much older than you, and he looked kind, for lack of a better word. Open, almost.