There is Nothing above the Sky [Dream SMP x Reader]

(Y/N)'s Diary | Year 6 | You taught me how to see

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ENTRY 9 ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Even after spending six years with them, I still wondered. Not about their origins or families, although I was quite curious.

But about their mental health.

Techno -who is now approximately twenty years old-, decided to stay at home and farm potatoes endlessly. He would spend his days planting, and waiting. Collecting and cooking. This hobby of his wasn't useless, as those potatoes were later sold at nearby villages for high prices. However, why would Techno spend so much time farming potatoes, when he could be outside, travelling and pillaging ? This was so unlike him.

Phil meanwhile, started wearing extravagant clothing, especially this awful green-striped bucket hat that he carried everywhere. Even to formal events.

Nonetheless -their peculiar behaviours aside- our life was going quite well, at an agreeable pace. My writing got better, and I can finally try my hand at longer sentences and common idioms without sounding and looking like an idiot.

More importantly, my garden is in constant expansion, and we finally added a spot for medicinal plants. We sold them alongside Techno's potatoes and Phil's writing nibs. A small competition started between us, who would be able to sell the most merchandise ?

(Phil was always the winner, of course. His charisma was unbeatable)

Techno made a small wooden sign at the entrance of my garden. He carved its name on it : "Garden of Eden, full of life and warmth"

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ENTRY 72 ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Survival was written in my blood. The wilderness never scared me, for I had to go through much worse. Feeding myself was never a worry of mine, as I was myself a constant source of food (even if Phil told me to stop saying that, apparently human flesh isn't a common meal. A shame, truly.)

And for these reasons, I never truly learnt how to hunt, how to use a weapon or even, how to fight. Those never seemed truly important to me.

But they were important to Techno.

He made me choose a weapon from a variety of choices. Honestly, my knowledge was so poor that I chose at random. A trident is what I had to use against an axe-welding Technoblade. It was terrible, but bearable.

Hunting, on the other side, was revolting. Intolerable, excruciating... I couldn't bring myself to do anything. My hands were shaking, and I dropped my weapon so many times. My whole body refused to actively hurt or kill any mob, but Techno insisted. So I persisted, each time trying to hunt the forest deers, luring them to me... and each time failing to even direct my trident towards them.

Techno decided to stop when my own hands directed the trident at my neck. Was it a defense mechanism ? We will never know.

Phil patched us up, and the atmosphere was tense for a few days.