Irl DreamSMP oneshots

The foot raised. The foot landed. The foot slipped. (Crimeboys)

This oneshot may contain inappropriate language and/or sensitive scenes.
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Side note — This oneshot is set during the Sorry Boys cult video
Originally, this was going to be a oneshot fulfilling request, but it didn't end up coming out that way so I apologise @crimeboysgod and hope you still enjoy! I will be working on your request asap
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Warnings — There's not going to be a warning for this oneshot as I want the outcome to be a surprise, so please read with caution
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Content Creators — Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot, Philza, Slimecicle and Ranboo
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Crouching by a lake that he had dubbed 'home' and had apparently dumped multiple dead bodies into wasn't something Tommy had expected the video to lead to, but he supposes that's what makes improv, improv.

However, to Tommy's dismay, the improv did also come with a little planning. Obviously, they had to plan the basis of the video, but there was also some planning to the bits that would take place. So now he has to wait by the iced-over lake until he's called over.

Tommy will admit, waiting is his least favourite activity in the whole world. Waiting comes with anxiety and boredom, and at the moment, he's experiencing one of the two. Boredom. Which just so happens to be Tommy's second least favourite thing in the whole world.

He groans and looks over his shoulder, checking that he's still supposed to be waiting and didn't miss his name being called over. But no, they're still filming and don't look like they have any intention of calling Tommy over in the next five minutes.

Well, he doesn't feel like waiting any longer. He doesn't really have a plan for when he goes in there besides accuse Charlie of not being the 'chosen one', and him coming in early just makes it even more improv like they wanted. Win - Win.

Tommy rises up from his crouched position and bends backwards with his arms behind his head, the slightest crack coming from his back. That was a less than comfortable position, but otherwise his jeans would've been muddy and wet from the ground.

He turns his upper body to face the shed, a grin pulling at his mouth. It's time for him to grace them with his presents - it's their fault anyways for banishing him to the lake.

He raises his left foot and-

He slips.

The foot raised. The foot landed. The foot slipped.

A shriek slips by his lips as he slips forward; eyes squeezed shut as he awaits impact. He feels himself slide but he doesn't dare open his eyes. His arms instinctively reach out in front of him as he goes crashing down.

Tommy gasps as his hands spike in pain of touching something cold. Sucking in a breath, Tommy hesitantly opens his eyes to check his surroundings. As he looks at what he's landed on, his heart stutters before dropping into his stomach.

The lake... he's.. he's on the lake. He's... no no no no no.

The ice covering the surface of the water is clear as day. Tommy can see the water straight under it as if he's merely hovering. The only thing breaking up the perfect surface of ice is the cracks. The cracks that formed underneath Tommy as his body collided with the ice.

He can feel his body shaking, and he can't tell whether it's from fear or the temperatures he's being exposed too. He doesn't even want to imagine the temperature beneath the ice. The freezing- probably deathly cold water that, if the ice breaks beneath him, will no doubt kill him.

He scrambles slowly to his feet, his heart pulsing in his ears as the ice breaks a little more with every uneven weight placed onto it. He tries to imagine himself as a feather; light and gentle. Hoping that, maybe if he believes it enough, he'll suddenly weigh the same.