64. (Y/n) is no barbie

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(Y/n) is no barbie
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In which you patiently wait for your
 barbie transformation, only to
 realize that the gods hate you 

_____________________________


   -Aerokuu on twitter

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   -Aerokuu on twitter


   Dying wasn't fun. You didn't wanna die again. 

   To be fair, it had been a pretty decent experience the first time. Then again, that was only due to three factors: First one being that it had been absolutely painless. You hadn't felt a thing, not even when you had hit the ground. Second, you had two whole lives left afterward - that was more than enough. And the last factor was that you had died like an absolute badass. 

   But now? Well, it hadn't been painless. It had hurt so much to the point where your body had a hard time even registering the pain. And there had been blood, lots of it. Blood and tears. You remembered there had been enough of it to sink a whole ship, but that was probably an exaggeration from your mind.  

   Not to mention, you were on your last life now. If anything happened, it would all be over. No going back. There had always been a peace of mind knowing that if you were to screw up and die, it wouldn't really matter because you would just respawn. But now, you didn't have that safety net. That meant, you couldn't afford to be your impulsive and reckless self anymore. For once, you had to be careful. And you hated being careful. 

   Then there also was the most humiliating part, as icing to the cake. You hadn't died like a badass, you hadn't yelled 'yeet' and thrown yourself off a cliff like last time. You had died by an accident, died at the hands (or well, feet) of a bunch of creepers, just like your parents had. And of course, Dream had found you. Dream. As if the situation hadn't been embarrassing enough. You wished he could've just waited to show his face until you had actually died, so it wouldn't have ended up in that awkward, war-declaring, and heartbreaking situation it had.

   Not to be mistaken, you were glad that you had gotten those things off your chest. You were glad that you had said the things you did to Dream. But looking back, it must've been very confusing to him, it was no wonder he hadn't let the message sink in right away. He had just returned home, excited to see you and take you on that little trip he had been talking about, and then he finds you on the surface of the prison he had built you, not greeting him at all because you were too busy dying. You weren't even sure if the things you had said to him had made any sense, or if he had just heard you repeatedly choke on your own blood. Your words had sounded perfect in your mind, but you didn't know if they had actually come out that way. Who knows, maybe the only thing you had said was "Hello Dream, I remember everything, so fuck you, I'm outta here."    

𝒫𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑜𝓅𝒽𝑜𝒷𝒾𝒶 [Dream x Reader]Where stories live. Discover now