#ender king than phil

[rayven81194]

so erm

may be getting my wish but in a different way…

[isa-ghost]

Thinking about the Philza Polycule's reaction to qPhil getting corrupted/possessed by the Ender King.

Missa terrified, confused, and worst of all guilty as shit because maybe he could've stopped this if he wasn't gone so often, if he wasn't so out of the loop constantly. He could've helped Phil. If he caught it early enough he could've gotten others to help him. He barely knows who Rose is let alone Ender King. This whole thing is so much bigger than him but if he'd just been around more, maybe he'd have even a shred more knowledge to help his husband.

Fit absolutely PISSED, both at the situation and himself. Phil TOLD HIM about this "Ender King" ages ago and he never thought to check in about the whole deal with it ever again. Even if he doesn't understand it and even if Phil seemed extremely uncomfortable saying the asshole's name let alone going into detail about whoever or whatever the fuck it is, he should've still made sure Phil was doing alright. It was clear enough this was something he needed SOME kind of support for. He's arguably the person that sees Phil the most on the island, how did he fuck up this badly?

Etoiles light-heartedly brushing the whole thing off. Phil is strong! He is the GOAT! He will come out of this fine! But on the inside, he's terrified and doesn't know how to begin to understand what's going on. These are affirmations for himself just as much as anyone else who hears them. It's the only way he knows how to cope. He's been blindsided by this. Phil is always so strong. He has to believe Phil can beat a god. What else can he do?

[blockgamepirate]

R = Rose (well, it's probably her), E = The Ender King

R: Long ago, E: A lifetime ago,

R: there was a child of the sky… E: there lived a man who fancied himself an explorer. . .

R: whose feathers were as dark as the night, of wings E: who flew with angels' wings,

R: that span across the Heavens. E: as vast as the endless Void.

R: He would take flight, possessing an unwavering spirit E: He soared wherever his whims took him,

R: and journeying through the unknown with a brave heart. E: claiming the treasures and secrets of the unknown as his own.

R: Day by day, E: Time after time,

R: he overcame trials and tribulations, an unwavering soul. E: he fought through trials no person was ever meant to survive.

These opening lines match so closely and it makes the differences in wording and tone very noticeable and interesting.

Rose (I'm just gonna assume it's her, alright) calls Phil a "child of the sky", the Ender King a "man who fancied himself an explorer". Rose is older than the Ender King and she's a protector, she views him as a child. The Ender King is scornful of others doesn't care about anyone but himself and views Phil as a man but immediately implies that Phil himself doesn't understand himself as well as he understands him.

Rose refers to the wings as "dark" but for the Ender King dark wings are kinda obvious, I mean what other kinds of wings are there, right? Instead he focuses on the comparison with angels, because feathers are kind of an alien concept for him, maybe, idk.

What Rose sees as "unwavering spirit", the Ender King sees as "whims", what Rose sees as journeying with a brave heart, the Ender King sees as conquest of the unknown. I think both are majorly projecting here lmao. They're describing themselves more than they're describing Phil.

Rose stresses Phil's unwavering soul "overcoming" trials, the Ender King sees them as battles to be "fought", maybe with a hint of grudging respect for Phil's success against all odds?

The rest of the text in each letter is less obviously mirrored, but the broad lines are still the same:

Rose describes Phil’s misfortune as seemingly having no clear reason, it’s just something that happened and it was a tragedy, but there's still hope for him. She focuses on his feelings of sadness and the way his presence was missed.

The Ender King blames Phil and sees this as some sort of divine punishment for his greed, again projecting his own faults onto Phil, that can only be escaped through redemption. This is clearly how he sees his own predicament now. And he draws that connection himself, explicitly.

I think by this point it's obvious that Rose views Phil as a child (her child?), the Ender King views him as a reflection of himself.

Rose only mentions herself off-handedly, doesn’t make a big deal of herself and even tries to dismiss her identity as unimportant. She only expresses her familiarity with Phil and that she feels his pain and wants to help him. She assures him that they will meet again (not realising that her message ended up being everything but comforting for him, oops.)

The Ender King talks about himself almost as much if not more than he talks about Phil, and only sees Phil’s value in his relation to himself. He makes a big deal about being THE ONLY ONE who can help Phil, which he offers to do, in the most condescending way possible. ”to grant you the peace of mind you so desperately seek”, okay dude.

And of course the way he addresses Phil is full of mockery where Rose's is full of gentle praise. It's interesting that he calls Phil by name, though, while Rose only addresses him by the same sobriquet she used in the beginning, "child of the sky".

It's also interesting how Rose seems to focus a LOT on Phil's wings, but it's hard to say if this is metaphorical or literal (or both). The Ender King's letter definitely makes it sound more like it's about Phil's mental state, him seeking "peace of mind". Rose also sort of touches on something related to that with the comment about his memories, but that's kinda it. The Ender King refers to his derealisation episodes very bluntly. Although I don't think either of them mean the problems with derealization is the thing he needs guidance for, considering they're BOTH actively making it worse with their messages.

If I were to guess, it's probably about him losing his memories and getting trapped on Quesadilla Island? idk. Possibly also the wings but I'm starting to lean towards the wings just needing to heal on their own and he probably doesn't actually need help with that.

Anyway, there are a lot of differences between the letters, but there are also a lot of core similarities: both of them are in a way treating him as a child, or a naive and childish person, both of them recognise his pain, both of them offer guidance and relief for said pain, although one through "faith" and one through "redemption" (oh boy there's a lot to say about that particular contrast that one could maybe make some real life comparisons about...) and although Rose does it a lot more, both of them associate him heavily with his wings.

I feel like there's also a certain level of respect for him in both letters, paradoxically. You wouldn't think that from how you have this almost coddling tone on one hand and mocking and condescending on the other. But they both describe him as a larger-than-life figure, almost like a mythical creature or a legendary hero (hero in the ancient sense of the word). And the way they BOTH emphasize the unfathomable vastness of his wings in such similar ways also doesn't seem coincidental. That's not how you (as a god) describe a mortal man, that's how you describe a fellow divine being.

(Honestly, these descriptions almost sound like he's a personification of a natural force, like he isn't just like the night or like the darkness, he is the night, he is the darkness, he is the void. What else would have wings that stretched out across the entire sky?)

And of course they both ultimately see him as someone worthy of their divine guidance.

I'm so excited to see if the other deities send him their own messages, I can't wait

[genevawren38]

I have so many thoughts surrounding what Fit and Bagi discussed about Phil on stream today, then Fit's realisation it might be the Ender King.

First of all; FitMC, you chef above the rest, you fucking cooked today.

Second I think Fit was our best chance of that connection being made because he is the one Phil has confided in the most besides his own kids. Fit was the person he grabbed when he was convinced he was seeing things. He told the anarchist about the birdhouse plot. He brought him *again* when he saw things his kids didn't see.

Fit, is quite possibly, the only one outside his immediate family that knows the most about the crow and he knows something is wrong.

And of course this is happening the moment before he is also being dragged off to his own mission, but he can't help but worry about Phil's kids alongside Ramon and Pac.

Because Chayanne seemed genuinely worried and Fit took it seriously. He knew something was wrong the moment he saw the duckie-wearing dragon child and how he was snarky but sorrowful with responding where their father is. Tallulah told him she's had better days, and you can tell the moment he focuses up.

[And its delicious. Whenever those cc's focus in, I sit up straight cause its so impressive.]

Fit has some of the most regular content on that server. He sees things and records them, filing them away for later in case he needs that knowledge.

So the moment it clocks in that Phil is being weird enough his children are being outspoken, he engages. They took him aside, especially, and opened up more to their Tio Fit than I have ever seen [except maybe Tallulah with BBH, who now has amnesia, and Bagi, though misguided has a good heart (thinks Phil is a Federation experiment)].

And he's made the best connections using his past knowledge and experiences.

Bagi helped with showing the crying obsidian and comparing it to the markings that spread across Phil's shoulders and back where the backpack hung, and I think that's when it clicked for Fit.

But he didn't want to tell Bagi because he isn't certain and perhaps he remembers Phil stressing this 'him' is dangerous. But the similarities have started to snap into place; especially with crying obsidian being a marker of the End Dimension, or at least drawing his thoughts that way.

Basically at the end of all of this; Fit had the best damn shot of making the connection based on lore from months ago and I am so fucking glad he did cause at least another Islander finally has a name for the fallen god chasing their crow.

I hope to God he or Ramon share this knowledge with another trustworthy source if an emergency comes up [Hoping on Bagi, Etoiles, Cellbit and Pac]. I have never been more proud to call that beautiful bald man one of my streamers, Veteran's Duo understand each other on a level no one else comes close too.

Yes they have their own important secrets. But, when they are themselves, they will trust one another to protect anyone effected if it becomes dangerous. It's been them since Day 1, between the regular visits and missions Fit is the closest brother in arms Phil has.

Despite the crow believing no one will care nor want to get involved due to the danger, Fit, Pac, Bagi and their families are all ready to prove them wrong. Phil sees himself as removed from the rest because he can be rather blind to affection and fondness, his self-blame not allowing him to acknowledge he is cared about.

But he is. And by Goddess will that server prove it, with Fit and Ramon at the front of the pack.

[modelbus]

Wrote this last night, ITS A COOL IDEA BUT ITS BARELY COMPREHENSIBLE!

Y/n is an ender dragon hybrid that was unsafe in the end, so Mumza (goddess of death) put them on Phil’s doorstep when they were like a month old. Phil is an adoptive parent to Techno, Tommy and Y/N. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo are close friends, growing up Y/N was also close with them. Phil lives in a snowy biome, Techno and tommy have renovated bedrooms from when they were little for when they stay over. The main town is a big clearing in a forest with a river running through. (There’s no government-) Niki runs a flower themed bakery that also sells flowers, Puffy runs a training center, & literally all dsmp people you feel comfortable writing live there, so they can be in a crowd. (not wilbur ofc)

Y/N went missing 5 years ago, when they were 11. (Tommy was 8, Techno was 16) they were looking at the stars from a bench on a forested cliff they liked hanging out at cuz it had a view of their house and the mountains behind it, and XD found them while doin his thing and was like “wait- you’re supposed to be in the end, small child.. I don’t care the void is spreading and its going from looking like a purple and yellow overworld to a bunch of floating islands.” So he /tp’d them back to the end- KEKW anyway- Y/N’s time in the end decays them, turning the ends of their limbs (including their tail and wings) all void like and glitchy but also scales and they’re tall- (do I make any sense rn?) oh, and the endermen try to kill them but shulkers are nice. SO TRAUMA AND TRAPPED IN THE END FIVE YEARS tryna get tf out and go home but surprise being in the end makes em really powerful as the void melds with their soul and basically says “HEY! DRAGON KID, HIIII! YOU’RE COOL, WE’RE GONNA SLOWLY ATTACH TO YOU!.. oh daym your not dying like everything else we try to be friends with..” BOOM VOID POWERS, ITS ALL GLITCHY LOOKING AND BLACK HOLE STUFF, BUT THE VOID IS NICE AND DON’T MEAN TO EAT THINGS SO NOW THEY CAN CONTROL IT KINDA AND FLY AND STUFF.. eventually their void powers get all strong and shit so they can go home, but htey kinda fly around and see all their friends and family acting completely normal and having a GRAVE despite knowing Y/N was still alive somewhere. the void is mad that their family stopped looking for them despite there being no death messages on their communicators so like a protective bestie its all like “bro you gonna take that? You gonna let them forget you like this?. Hellll no.” And they are also like ‘wtf man YOU KNEW I WASN’T DEAD BUT GAVE UP LOOKING-?!’ After spending five years just trying to find a way back home.. SO VILLAIN ARK, THEY START BUILDING A HUGE CASTLE AND ITS LIKE BLACK & PURPLE EVIL CASTLE LAIR TYPA THING. the void oopsie kills the area around so its all like black and decayed around the castle and its like REAL evil lair shit. Y/N sends ominous notes with the coordinates acting like someone who kidnapped her being all like “come here and bring everything you have if want them back.” So they bring (insert all members mothy picks) along with them and go the the castle, BOOM ITS LIKE AN ESCAPE ROOM KINDA THING WITH PUZZLES AND TRAPS N SHIT. so they slowly make their way up to the throne room thats like at the top fighting things and doin puzzles but when they make it to the top they rise up on a little circle platform into the room all ready to see Y/N in a cage next to some big bad guy. but they see Y/N (5 years older than they last saw them) LOOKING LIKE A FUCKING EVIL QUEEN(or king or ruler) WITH END PARTICLES AROUND THEM AND THEY’RE PARTLY MADE OF VOID AND ALL EVIL DRAGON HYBRID QUEEN BADASS SPOOKY. So they’re pissed and stuff tommy is the first to talk before everyone else joins asking questions and being all confused and sad so they talk a little then they get pissed not believing how sad they are acting so they sends mobs made of materialised void to attack them from their throne it goes on a while and they keep fighting and trying to reason with Y/N before tommy is trying to convince them their not lying and explains that they finally decided to give the town a name after they had been missing year and named it after Y/N & built a statue of them as a memorial in the town enter after two years when they finally stopped looking, and what Y/N saw was just a small grave at their childhood home. They don’t believe it at first but eveyones like why would we lie about that?? So Y/N is all like Wait what- so I’ve been hurting you all for no reason- and they end up being horrified with themself after seeing their reflection in the gems on their crown, drop it and break the wall to fly away while repeating ‘I’m so sorry’ and crying. We cut out at tommy picking up the crown all angsty.

I DO have ideas for another 3-5 parts so like if you manage make it into smth and wanna continue it just say the word. *eyes*

-✨🌌🌙 Annon

you wrote this like it’s a movie and god I wish I could edit shit because I’d make you the movie it deserves. I somehow included too many Greek mythology references and for that I’m so sorry…

Pairing: Gn!Hybrid!Reader x Philza, Technoblade, Tommyinnit, Tubbo, Ranboo (+ cameos)

Doomed Dragon

You love the sun. It’s bright, and warm, and feels like how warm cookies taste when it beams down on your wings. It’s nearly blinding when it reflects off all the snow, but you don’t mind. Sometimes blinding isn’t a bad type of blinding, or at least that’s what Tommy said.

Speaking of Tommy, he told you ages ago he’d be back with Tubbo and Ranboo, but he isn’t. They all ran off to Niki’s flower-bakery-awesome-place so Tubbo could buy some dandelions, and you (being the wise 11 year old you are) decided that suntanning your wings was a far better option. You never did get the hang of trudging through all the snow, and you didn’t want to slather your wings in sunscreen for a fly.

Dad says you’re an ender dragon hybrid. It was a lot of fancy words that led to Techno poking and prodding at you, but you figure it’s practically the same as Dad’s wings. After all, his are black like yours, even if his are feathered and yours aren’t.

“Move it.” Techno orders from behind you, stepping over your wings. You do not, in fact, move. “Phil told me I could check on the dogs.”

You never got why Techno called dad by his first name. You and Tommy both said dad, but Techno just had to be special. Dad said it was his ‘teenage’ phase, and Techno was 16, so he’s got 4 whole years before he’ll call him dad again. Then the second half of his sentence clicks, and you gasp.

“Can I come with?” You plead, but he’s already shaking his head. “Please! I won’t even touch any, I swear!”

“You know they’re scared of your wings.” Techno huffs.

“I’ll tuck them under a blanket really well!”

“They have noses. Besides, aren’t you waitin’ for the rest of your group? What if they come back?”

You puzzle this over, then sigh. “Fine. But be super nice to the dogs for me.”

“Will do.”

Techno vanishes into the snowbanks, his red cloak and pink hair being swallowed up in the white of snow. He better give those dogs your love, or you’ll steal his special shiny books.

You settle into your sunbathing, eyes closing. After a few moments, there’s a thud.

“Techno, I know there’s no way you have those dogs my love—“ you start, eyes still closed.

“Not Technoblade, child.” The voice is echoey, and you jolt up. From above you, a man with two white wings and two glowing rings around his head stares. Looking at him too long makes your eyes hurt, and when you glance away you’ve already forgotten what he looks like.

“Who are you?” You ask sassily, because this is definitely a newcomer. They have wings like dad, but their pretentious ass clothing reminds you of Techno.

“You can call me XD. And you’re out of where you belong. Don’t worry, I’ll get you back to The End in no time.” A hand settles on your shoulder, and panic flares in your mind, because dad taught you all about stranger danger.

Before you can even scream, your stomach twist and drops, and the world around you vanishes entirely.

-

The End sucks. That was one undeniable truth; The End is horrible and you hate it. Between shulkers—purple things that open to shoot other things that make you float—and the endermen, you were over it.

Although, you had one friend in all the darkness and desolate floating islands. It never gave you a name, and whatever it spoke it certainly wasn’t English, but you understood it all the same. Even gave it a name; hard not to make friends with the one thing that seemed to speak back to you.

In a way, the void replaced the family that never found you.

“Morning, void.” You sigh, tossing a yellow rock into the darkness. It gets chucked back at you, entirely purple. “You’re in a mood today. Sad I didn’t die in the night like always?”

Silence. Then you feel the tingling in your wings, your long tail, the fingers that have turned purple. The void.

Ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ

“Yeah yeah.” You huff. “That’s me.”

You run your fingers alone the yellow stone below you. Mentally, you call it endstone. Seems fitting enough. Following your touch, purple spreads, eroding the stone. That’s been happening lately, and it always leaves the same tingling you get when the void speaks.

“This is so fucked.”

Ї ċḧöṡë ÿöü

“I didn’t ask to be chosen! I just want to go home.” Home to dad, and Techno, and Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and all the others.

Ẅḧö ṡäïḋ ÿöü ċäṅ’ẗ?

“Um, logic and the fact there’s no way off this stupid fucking island?” You roll your eyes. You can’t fly long distances, and you’re too scared to try flying off into the void.

The void doesn’t respond, but your breath still catches. Is it implying that you could? That if you did, there was a way out?

Strange things have been happening to you and your body since you got here. And not in the teenage puberty way that dad talked to you about. Your wings had grown, your tail had gained fucking spikes, purple stressed spreading over your skin. Even your hair started blackening at the ends.

And then there was the fact that when you touched things, they sometimes turned purple. Sometimes, when you were really upset, the object would vanish completely, leaving behind a black hole of nothing. A hole that looked oddly like the void.

You weren’t science-smart, mostly because Sam never taught you before XD dumped you here. But you sure as hell knew that wasn’t normal.

Staring into the void, you make up your mind. “If you’re fucking with me, void, I’ll kill you. Somehow.”

You stand up, spread your wings, and hesitate. Were you really trusting some disembodied voice that gave you fucked up powers? But then the image of a grown-up Tommy, of your dad bent over the kitchen table, of Techno’s back as he walked away from you, all flash in your mind.

And you step forward.

-

It happens in a blink. It feels a lot like teleporting, the way your stomach twists and drops, the way your breath is stolen from your lungs. But instead of falling into the unfamiliar like you had 5 years ago, you emerge flying, a new person.

There’s snow below you, wind lifting your wings. Wind. Real wind. The air isn’t oppressive, isnt weighing down on you, isn’t leaving a sour taste in your mouth. It feels like home.

You bank down, landing on your feet in the snow. Under you, it warps, purple and black spreading outwards, twisting at the edges. One blink and it’s white snow, another and it’s all wrong again. That never happened in the end.

It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re back. The world seems to call to you, a sense in your heart tugging you in a certain direction. You follow it on large wings.

Will Dad cry when he sees you? Will you finally see Techno emotional? Maybe they’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate being back: you’ve missed Bad’s cooking. Surely they’ve been searching for you, and you can’t wait to see their surprise when they realize you found your own way back.

The sun beaming down on you makes no hindrance in your flight. You aren’t Icarus, and the sun won’t stop you from being free. Techno used to tell you and Tommy that one, always joking that Tommy had the looks and you had the wings. Two halves of one whole.

You were about to reunite that whole.

Slowly, your home comes into view. The streets and buildings of the town, and just past that, the house you love. The house you can’t wait to sleep in for the next century. Dad is never getting rid of you.

It’s silent when you land, the second time your feet are touching the ground here. This time, the ground doesn’t glitch. Thank God for that.

“Dad?” You call out, pushing open the door. It was never locked when you were a kid. “Tommy? Techno?”

No response. Maybe they’re outside, or maybe they’re out looking for you? You’ll check the dog area for Techno first.

Trudging through the snow, you delight in making an impact and leaving footprints behind. You never got to see your footprints in the end. Funny how you miss the little things about life.

“Techno? It’s me, I’m ba…” you trail off, spotting a small weathered stone. That certainly hadn’t been there before. You take a few steps closer, staring down to read engraved words.

Your name stared back at you, paired with a date that was five years ago. The day you went missing.

They… they thought you were dead? Is this a grave?

Ṫḧëÿ’ṿë ḟöṛġöẗẗëṅ äḷḷ äḅöüẗ ÿöü

The void’s voice startles you, but you don’t dwell on the fact it followed you.

“No they didn’t!” You shout, but your heart is beating too fast, sick rising in your throat. “No, someone else has to be here!”

Before you realize it, you’re running. Following the familiar path to the town, coming to stop when you see a person. Antfrost, you can recognize him even now, whistling as he carries a box inside.

Acting normal. Normal, as if you didn’t disappear. Normal, as if you hadn’t been gone for five years. Normal, as if your disappearance never made an impact.

Ṗööṛ ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ

“No…” You whisper, staggering back. “I— I don’t—“

Ḟöṛġöẗẗëṅ. Ḧöẅ ċöüḷḋ ẗḧëÿ? Ṫö ÿöü? Ṡö ṗëṛḟëċẗ, ṡö ṁïṅë?

How could they indeed. The void is right. You’ve been forgotten.

Ṫëäċḧ ẗḧëṁ ḅëẗẗëṛ. Ṫëäċḧ ẗḧëṁ ä ḷëṡṡöṅ. Ÿöü äṛë ẅöṛẗḧÿ öḟ ṛëṁëṁḅṛäṅċë.

“How?” You whisper, arms curling around yourself.

Ṛëṿëṅġë, ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ. Ṫäḳë ṛëṿëṅġë.

“I don’t want revenge, void. I want—“

Ÿöü äṛë äṅġṛÿ. Ї äṁ äṅġṛÿ. Ẅë äṛë äṅġṛÿ. Ṫäḳë ṛëṿëṅġë, ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ.

Even as you want to deny it, you know it’s true. You are angry. Pissed, in fact. How dare they forget you? How dare they act as if you were nothing, as if your personal hell didn’t matter?

Slowly, an idea forms, pieces falling into place.

There’s a story you used to like, gasping and laughing at the drama of it as Techno told it. Indulged you.

A king and his friend, Theseus. The part you loved hearing was the end of it: Theseus sought refuge with the king, and the king pushed him off a cliff.

You sought refuge with this town, and they stabbed you in the back. And if they want your forgiveness? Well. They’ll have to prove themselves worthy.

Ä ċäṡẗḷë. Ḅüïḷḋ ä ċäṡẗḷë.

“With puzzles.” You murmur, planning with the void. Embracing it. “And traps, and mobs. Twelve floors.”

Ẅë ẅïḷḷ ẗëäċḧ ẗḧëṁ.

-

You don’t remember building the castle. Hell, you aren’t even sure if you could build something like this. It’s tucked behind mountains, black stone and purple stained windows hiding it in the shadows. Spires reach toward the sky as if they’re claws, threatening to rip a hole in the world.

The void, at some point, must’ve taken over for you and built it. That’s the only logical explanation you could come up with, bolstered with the evidence of the void’s impact on the landscape around the castle.

It’s obvious at first glance that something is wrong with the greenery. The flowers and trees have all withered and died, shriveling up into dull-looking husks. The snow has melted to reveal blackened grass underneath, and the mountain is infected with veins of purple. It looks evil. You look evil.

The void loves it. You aren’t so sure, but at least you look cool. And you felt cool setting up all the traps and challenges.

There’s mazes and mobs and hunts and puzzles, all of which you set up. Your favorite is the one where they’ll have to search the room to find three golden apples and deliver them into a chest. It was some tricky redstone, but once they do that the door will open. That’s the eleventh floor, the final one before you’ll finally see them.

All that’s left is to send out the notes, each of which you hand write in (quite honestly) horrible handwriting. The void helped with the threats and the purple paper, leaving you with a simple message.

“𝓑𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝟧 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝑔𝑜 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀. 𝓛𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝓜𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒾𝓉; 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇.”

It’s stupid, and possibly cringey, but you’ve never written a ransom note before, so you think you’ll get a pass. You just need to send them and wait for the plan to start working.

-

It takes them less time than you thought it would to get through all of your rooms. It’s as if you blinked and they were all there, staring at you as you sit on your unnecessarily fancy chair.

“Are you real?” Tommy blurts out. He’s the same golden-hair kid you remember running around with, just grown.

Are you real? He had asked. Surely you don’t look that bad. The scales on your arms grew, certainly, and purple particles floated all around you, but it was still you.

“Kid?” Dad asks, stood next to Tommy. “Are you— what are you doing?”

“Where have you been?” Puffy adds on, wide-eyed. “Have you been safe?”

Your gaze sweeps over them all, anger clawing its way up your throat. Puffy, Niki, Antfrost, Bad, Ranboo, Tubbo, Tommy, Dad, Techno, Sam. All of them are here, staring at you with mixed expressions of horror and sorrow and surprise.

It’s fake. It must be fake. They gave up on you! They left you for dead, left you to rot alone!

“You’re all liars!” You shout. “Acting sad, as if you didn’t stop looking for me!”

“We didn’t—“ Tubbo starts, but you cut him off.

“Stop!” You hold your hand up to signal him to stop talking, but purple particles swirl in front of your palm and materialize into something solid. Then again, and again.

It’s not until there’s ten purple figures that you realize what you’ve done. You created mobs, living creatures made of the void. One of them groans like a zombie, then rushes at Sam. He reacts immediately, swiping his sword at its head. The purple head rolls, disintegrating. Then, it reforms on the void-zombie’s shoulders.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Everybody’s shouting and swinging their weapons around, trying to figure out how to get rid of the void-zombies. All you can do is watch, wide-eyed and shell-shocked. Those things came from you, from your anger.

“You’ve got to get rid of these things!” Techno shouts, looking over at you while swinging his axe.

And you? You don’t do a damn thing.

“We looked for you, all of us! We’d never give up!”

“Shit, a little help!”

“Oh, God…”

Everyone’s voices mix into one big mess of noise, only made worse by the noises of the weapons and the void-zombies.

“We named the town after you!”

Your head whips toward Tommy’s voice, eyes focusing on him. He ducks under a void-zombie’s hand, staring back at you.

“And Ranboo has this brilliant idea— we made a statue of you! Well, Sam made it, but it’s pretty sick looking.” He adds.

“…You’re lying.” You accuse, but you already know he’s not.

“Why would we lie about something like that?” Niki asks, gentle despite the violence filling the room.

As if on command, all the void-zombies vanish.

Oh, God. Oh God oh God oh God oh God. What have you done? What have you become?

Ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ…

We’ve fucked up. You’ve fucked up. The horror is cold, spearing through your body, no part of you untouched.

Your glassy eyes catch on the chandelier, a thousand crystal images of you reflecting like a mirror. And all you can see is the void. The glitchy darkness surrounding you, the horrible thing you’ve become.

Maybe you’re a coward for it, but you run, crown falling from your head. The second your hand brushes against the wall, it vanishes, glitching out of existence as you hurtle through it and into the dark night.

“Kid!”

You don’t look back.

-

The silence you leave behind is eerie.

Five years. Five years since they last saw you. And now here they were.

Tommy is the first to step forward, to grab the crown you had dropped. He always liked shiny things, but more importantly, he liked keeping your things after you went missing.

He looks down, meeting his own eyes in the gems.

This crown doesn’t feel like you at all.

[rabbit-harpist]

the ender king’s dream. an angel’s wings find freedom in dark water.

watercolor, details under cut.

phil’s latest lore really inspired me to art, but this is more inspired by the vibes of the underwater message than a concrete redraw of the scene since I didn’t have a reference for the layout handy. i’m very proud of the weightless feel of the robe and the fade into lighter shades on the left page, since the right was warping from getting the background so dark. i’m so happy with it.

[parvalunaskitty]

My thoughts on what's going to happen with Phil on Friday: we're going to get A resolution, but it isn't going to be The resolution to the Ender King situation.

What exactly is going to happen? I don't know. Phil might come back and he's shaken off the Ender King's possession and he has a lovely birthday with his kids. He might come back even more possessed and need to be brought back to himself with the power of love and friendship. Either way, by the end of the day, Phil will be himself again because I just don't see cc!Phil keeping the fully possessed rp going for more than a few days, because he wants to play Minecraft with his friends lol. But either Friday, or sometime soon, we'll get some kind of reminder that the Ender King is still around and still a threat.

Because personally? I don't think we'll reach the end until we've reached The End.

[factorialsotherfandoms]

TW: Unreality, major character injury, poor medical technique (and IC they know they're not getting it quite right too), panic attacks, brief vomitting

Maybe a bit long for tumblr, but eh, you'll live, and I'll upload it eventually.

Theoretically safe in his room, FitMC is awoken by the sound of his warpstone activating. He sits, and reaches for a knife, and feels Pac sleepily grasp for him as he disturbs the man's sleep.

"Pac," he keeps his voice as quiet as possible. "Let go. Someone's here."

Pac does not wake as cleanly as Fit, but still grips the knife passed to him, hiding it under the blanket and still pretending to be asleep.

Whomever came takes a while to find them, but eventually there is a knock on his bedroom door; Fit grips his sword, wishes he'd realised he had time to dress and put armour on, and calls "come in!"

Two small figures run into the room, and he tucks the sword away - keeps it close, just in case these are imposters again, but tucks it away.

"Tallulah?" Pac has noticed them too, sitting up as soon as he does and opening his arms. "Chayanne? What's wrong?"

Tallulah runs over and hides in Pac's arms before pulling out a sign; Chayanne gets straight onto writing his. Neither child has their hat or their backpack, and there's the slight glow of a potion over both of them.

'/Something's wrong with dad/' Chayanne writes, then pulls out another sign.

'/Papa says the house is on fire. It's not/' Tallulah writes.

Right. Fuck. Another message? After the last one... Fit's genuinely concerned. He believes well enough that the messages are real, but he worries about the doubt they cast into Philza's mind - and also what something like that contacting his friend could possibly mean.

'/He said find you/' Chayanne's second sign reads. '/Will you help him?/'

'/He was scared/' Tallulah adds. '/Tios, papa is so scared/'

Fit and Pac share a look. Pac nods, and Fit wishes he were telepathic and so could send his roommate an apology for the disturbed night.

"Why don't I go help him out?" Fit offers. "I'll go look after him and have a chat. Pac can look after you two."

"A sleepover!" Pac's grin at them both is strained, but Fit doubts the children notice. "Let's go to my home and eat all the chocolate, yes? Chayanne, do you want to make a cake for your papa?"

Fewer people know of Ilha Chume Labs than Fit's hole in the ground, and even if he means Chume Labs proper the warren of labs will keep them safe.

The kids are still hesitant to agree; Fit smiles at them too, and nods, "your little secret. I know Phil says no snacks after bedtime, but he left you in my care and I say you can."

It doesn't really win them over; Chayanne puts down another sign '/you promise to help dad?/'

Fit makes eye contact with the boy, deadly serious, "everything I can. I promise."

'/you leave first/'

Fit doesn't know if Philza trusts Pac with his children, but Fit trusts him, and honestly they're the least of his concerns. The old crow thinking himself trapped in a burning house - why the hell didn't he leave with the kids - is far more of his worry. Is it the Ender King again? Or some other fucked up entity contacting him in the most bullshit way possible?

"Alright," he says, and grabs his warpstone and a shirt. "Be good for Pac, okay?"

"They're sweet," Pac promises. "They'll be good."

Fit knows that’s a lie, but Pac wrangles Richas well enough, so surely he can manage Philza's kids.

He trusts his faith, and worries for a friend, and warps away.

---

Phil and Missa is quiet, and still, and just as calm as it always is. The moonlight reflects on the glass, and it looks nothing like a house that two children might have fled from. Nothing at all seems wrong, but nothing ever does seem wrong; Fit knows better than to take it at face value.

He’s already opened the hatch before he remembers just how jumpy his friend is, and calls out a loud “oi, Phil!”

He’s already in the main room by the time he hears a reply, glancing between the three options as he fails to choose one.

“Kitchen,” Philza’s voice is quiet, broken, strained as though speaking on an over-strained throat. “Be-” a cough “be careful!”

Careful of what? Tallulah said he thought the house was on fire, so… It’s a waste of resources, but Fit splashes himself with a fire resistance potion anyway. Just so he can tell Philza he’s safe, and not have to lie about any follow up questions.

Depends how bad the vision is, really.

Because Fit is pretty sure they are visions, not hallucinations. It’s just the after-effects on his old friend’s mental health are worse for it.

The kitchen is the door to the left. When Fit steps in, he makes a show of checking it. Everything is normal - down to and including the pot on the stove - except for Philza himself. Still in his pyjamas, stood with his back to the wall. He looked like he was reading something, but glances over his shoulder as soon as he hears Fit approach.

There’s nothing in his hands, not that Fit can see, but they still hover like they’re holding up a book.

His eyes are shot wide open, so wide it goes past terror to border on head injury. His breathing, too, is fucked - Fit can see him panting - but that’s a panic attack for you.

“You good?” Fit asks someone who very, very obviously isn’t. “I was worried, so I asked Pac to watch the kids. Chayanne and Tallulah said something was wrong…?”

It looks like Philza is about to reply, but then he starts coughing. Fit gives him a moment, but it keeps going. His body shudders, gasping for air between coughs as he slumps against the wall.

It’s fucking terrifying; Fit runs forwards before he knows what to say, only stopping himself once Philza manages to catch his breath, and Fit remembers what a fucking terrible idea it is to charge someone whose brain is trapped outside reality.

So he slows to a stop, and brings up his hands.

“Easy, easy,” Fit drops his voice lower, trying to project calm he absolutely does not feel. “What can you see, Phil? Because whoever’s talking to you, they’re not talking to me.”

“Not- ah- not talking?” Philza takes a deep, sharp breath - gasping again. His voice is shaking, distant, so quiet Fit has to strain to hear it even over the silence. “Fire. It’s- It’s fucking… hell in here. Lava. Netherrack. Soul- Soul sand. The whole- whole lot, Fit, the whole damned lot.”

The Nether? Shit. Nobody likes the Nether, so no wonder Phil is panicking so hard he’s choking himself. Fit eases himself forward a little more, trying not to scare his friend more than he’s already terrified.

“What else?” he asks.

It’s not exactly grounding when Philza is seeing another reality, but it’s the only thing Fit knows how to try.

“Book, blackstone, blaze rod, quartress.”

That train of words is said much more clearly, more certainly, but still sounding called from a much greater distance than is between them. Fit can hear the panicked tears threatening to spill over with every word, and his heart fucking breaks.

Gentle, gentle, do his best to help. Fit’s not a gentle person by nature, but if his friends need him he’s going to try.

“Hey, hey look at me,” he orders, trying to be kind but knowing he’s a bit sharper than usual. What can he do to break the tension? Flirt? Flirting always goes down a treat. “See this sexy bald head of mine? I’m not going to let any Ender King hurt you /or/ your kids.”

Fit isn’t exactly sure how he could stop anything with such a name, but he’d certainly try. 

Then Philza says something. It’s so quiet and broken up he can barely hear it, his breathing growing faster and more desperate as he does.

It takes Fit a moment to parse the words - “not him. Blaze Em-press. His enemy.”

What?

“That’s why she set your house on fire? Pissed he got you first?”

It’s the only sense he can make of the enemy of someone Philza is so fucking terrified of making him think he and his house are burning.

“A friend,” Philza says, and begins coughing again. “She’s- a… friend. But’s she’s- … Also the Nether… You know? I-I think- Fuck, my head hurts.”

No bet.

Philza coughs again, spit hitting the floor. At first Fit thinks nothing of it, then he notices the discolouration - not black, not fully black, but slightly speckled with it.

Shit. The coughing isn’t because he panicked himself into not breathing right. The vision… The vision isn’t a hallucination, and it isn’t just a vision, because whatever Philza’s brain can do it can’t fucking fake smoke in his lungs.

Smoke that as far as Fit can tell /does not exist/.

“Not really,” he answers, shaky himself now but needing to reply to the ‘you know’. He has friends, yeah, but if they set his house on fire and tried to kill him by smoke inhalation they wouldn’t be soon. “Let’s get you out of here, and grab some water.”

And once Philza is away from the smoke, get him to Pac and hope the engineer has fucked around in the lab enough to know what to do, because this is far beyond Fit’s abilities to treat.

Philza doens’t reply; Fit closes the rest of the distance. He kneels down infront of his friend, touching his shoulder and trying to assess his condition - no burns on his face, at least. From what Fit remembers, burns on your face mean you’re extremely fucked.

The touch at least seems to break Philza’s trance a little; he reaches out and touches Fit’s shoulders too, using them to lever himself up. Having realised his friend is legitimately and physically hurt, Fit keeps his hands near.

Just in case.

“I’m sorry,” it seems hard for Philza to breathe, and harder still for him to talk. “I must look… I’m sorry.”

He’s back to himself a little, then, but it’s still awful words he says.

“You’re scared,” Fit says, and he’s terrified too - he’s just forcing his breaths steady, his heart calm, and accepting the fact he’ll have nightmares about this day for months. “It’s fucking scary, just thinking about the idea. Entities from elsewhere lasering shit into your brain? Making you think your house is on fire? No thanks.”

Philza laughs, and it’s blissfully familiar for a second.

Then the coughing starts again.

Philza borderline collapses, his body unable to take the force of the coughs. Fit grabs him, keeping him from the floor. He helps him bend a bit better and rubs at his back. That’s what you do to help someone stop coughing, right? Rub their back?

Fuck, he’s so out of his depth right now.

“Easy, easy,” he tries. “Let’s just get out of here. We can talk outside.”

Under Fit’s guidance, Philza manages to walk. It’s slow going, and Fit has at least half of his weight, but he manages. It’s not far to outside, at least; the bunker is big for a bunker, but it’s still no labyrinth.

And then Philze drops from his hold.

“Fuck!”

Fit doesn’t even know what happens. One moment they’re walking, the next Philza is on - in - the floor. He has no way to comprehend it, his entire mind fucking straining to compute seeing both the wooden floor and Philza /inside/ it at once.

And Philza is screaming in agony. Agony, agony, fuck Fit doesn’t think he’s ever heard him scream like that before.

He doesn’t - he doesn’t know what to do.

So he grabs Philza and yanks him up. The floor gives him up easily, and Fit scroops him into his arms.

There’s burns, there’s so many burns - every bit of Philza that was below the floorline - thank fuck not his chest or his head, the survalist managing to catch himself like so many times before - is burnt. His hands, his feet, lower arms, most of his legs…

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Fit tries to reassure.

He doesn’t worry about taking it slowly or about stopping the injuries getting knocked - what Philza needs is out, and away, and he knows Pac has shit for burns they’ve just got to get there.

But first, cold water. Chume Labs is huge, and Chayanne’s paddling pool is a quicker walk.

And every step of the way, Philza screams and sobs and chokes on his throat.

He keeps up the promises of it’ll be okay, trying desperately to soothe at least one of the three. He carries Philza outside. It’s not glamorous or comfortable, but they get there. They get there, they fucking get there.

Fit as good as dumps Philza in the paddling pool, making sure the burns are covered by water. There’s a shudder in the screams, and the sobs start winning; with one hand he rubs Philza’s back, still awkwardly promising his presence, while with the other he grabs his communicator.

/You whisper to pactw: Where are you?/

The reply isn’t immediate. He considers texting the injuries, but… maybe best to assess them first. Let Pac know exactly what they’re dealing with, and also make sure Philza is okay with the Brazilian’s help.

Speaking of… Philza has mostly stopped choking.

But he isn’t doing much of anything else.

“Phil?” he asks, keeping his voice low and simple. “Can you hear me, Phil?”

Philza moves up a little, like he’s straightening to answer. He opens his mouth and- and then leans sideways, over some of the nearby flowers.

Fit can only support his back and watch in terror as Philza vomits into the bushes, flecks of sticky black smoke clinging to that too.

He can feel his own hands shaking as he supports his friend, keeping him from getting vomit on his injuries or in the water, and trying to comfort him all the same. It’s horrible, it’s terrifying, but there’s not exactly much he can do.

Hopefully it’s just panic nausea. He hopes to Hausmaster it’s just panic nausea.

After only a little bit the vomit ends, Philza leaning back and being caught against Philza’s chest.

“... Fit?” his voice is even weaker than before.

“Right here, big boy,” Fit tries to keep his reply lighter than his horror. “You with me?”

There’s a shuddering breath, followed by a nod.

Philza could probably do with a potion, but the only one he has is in Fit’s pocket. He didn’t grab his bag or anything before heading over, and he’s regretting it now. But to access it…

“Okay, fuck,” he breathes, clearing his mind with the swearing. “If I let go for a second, can you keep yourself above water?”

There’s a hesitant nod - Fit slowly lets go as Philza adjusts, making sure he is steady before digging through his pockets. The potion is… Somewhere. It won’t fix everything, not for shit this bad, but it’ll help with the shock and any infection risk and take the edge off the pain. Maybe heal some of his throat on the way down, too.

He finds it, and puts it to Philza’s lips. It doesn’t take much effort to convince him to drink, pink liquid going easily down.

When he opens his eyes, Philza looks a little more present, and Fit sighs in relief.

“What happened?” his voice is still quiet and scratched, but more solid than when they first got to the pool.

“Fuck if I know,” and honestly, it’s true. Fit can guess and such, but half of the reason he believes in magic crap so easily is because it constantly happens and he has no idea how to parse it, so may as well just take it at face value. “The lava burns are real, though. There was nothing there, it was like watching… I don’t fucking know, you glitch into the floor? Then you screamed, and there’s lava burns.”

He watches Philza examine his burns. With a worried hand he stops him from taking them from the water, massaging his shoulder with a thumb he can only hope is comforting.

It’s comforting for Fit, at least.

“Can I message Pac about this?” he asks, because fuck he’s out of his depth, and Pac and Mike have dealt with enough lab accidents to know some weird medical areas.

Philza quirks something like an attempted smile, “assumed you’d already told him, mate.”

“Not about this,” Fit hasn’t, either; only asking where Pac is since he left. “But… Look, I can stop the burns killing you, but I can’t treat them properly, and I’m pretty sure your lungs are fucked.”

Confusion crawls across Philza’s face. Fit watches in concern as he raises a hand to his lips, it coming away with some of the discoloured, sticky mucus.

He sees the terror in Philza’s eyes as he glances up to meet them.

“Can we not scare the kids?”

Fit takes that as permission. He opens his comms, to find Pac has already replied.

/pactw whispers to you: at Chume Labs

pactw whispers to you: got Chayanne and Tallulah asleep in Mike’s room

pactw whispers to you: how’s Philza?

you whisper to pactw: not good. You got anything for lava burns and smoke inhalation?/

“Pac says they’re already asleep,” Fit promises, and keeps any wondering about how that happened to himself. “They’re going to notice, but we can just tell them in the morning.”

But at least by then the burns will be covered up and their dad might have his head back.

Philza nods, and Fit returns to his comms.

/pactw whispers to you: the fire was real?

you whisper to pactw: real enough to hurt him, not real enough for me to see

you whisper to pactw: it’s freaking me out, but i know what burns look like

you whisper to pactw: and vomiting up smoke ash/

He looks up from the comms to find Philza’s eyes closed. For a moment his heart stops; “don’t sleep just yet.”

Philza gestures at him in reply, and he isn’t sure what it is, but it’s a sign of life at least.

Something approximating fuck off, he’s sure. Fit turns back to his comms, but keeps a closer eye on his friend.

/pactw whispers to you: bring him here

pactw whispers to you: i’m not a doctor but we have some supplies

pactw whispers to you: will get it set up

pactw whispers to you: or would the order be better?

you whisper to pactw: will ask/

“Okay,” he looks at Philza more critically, assessing the damage for himself. “Pac’s got stuff at Chume Labs, and luckily for us that’s also where he took Chayanne and Tallulah. He can either meet us there, or at the Order.”

“Kids,” Philza immediately replies, and Fit is not the slightest bit surprised.

/you whisper to pactw: we’ll come to you/

“Right,” he glances over Pac’s confirmation, and shuts his communicator away. “Do you think you can manage your warpstone?”

Fit really, really hopes that Philza pulling it out means yes, because he’s not sure how to get him anywhere otherwise.

So he pulls out his own, and warps over there.

---

When he arrives Chume Labs, Philza is half-collapsed against the waystone, and dripping wet. Neither is unexpected; Fit scoops him back up, and carries him to the turtle. There’s worryingly little reaction, but his eyes are open and blinking normally, and he winces properly when he coughs.

Managing the turtle while carrying someone is a bit awkward, but Fit manages. Just like he usually does. As it makes its way across, Fit texts Pac to let them know they’re there. He expects a message back saying which floor to go to, but instead Pac meets them at the elevator.

“Fit?” he asks first, then. “Phil? Are you okay?”

Philza manages to mumble something which sounds mostly like a hello; the look Fit and Pac share is worried. Fit sits them both down while Pac sets the floor, and the mechanism crawls to life.

“Here, I bought splash potions,” Pac shows them first to Fit, before throwing them on Philza.

Fit gets splashed as well, the tingle running along his skin. Philza’s body relaxes somewhat, his breathing steadying a little.

“Thank you, Pac,” Fit says. “I didn’t have my bag.”

“Did you have anything?” Pac asks, hands trembling as he visually checks them both over.

“Gave him a basic potion just before I messaged you,” Fit replies. “Otherwise… Got him in cold water, but I didn’t know what else.”

Pac nods, shifting between his feet, “we need a real hospital.”

“We need a real doctor,” Fit points out.

Pac can do nothing but agree to that. He’s about to say something else, when the lift arrives.

There’s a bed with some equipment set up on one side, but Pac leads Fit and Philza over to a chair instead. It’s just like the ones Pac constantly leaves around, except red this time. A whole pile of equipment is beside it, and it faces an open door.

One which shows Chayanne, Tallulah, and Richas safely asleep in a little pile.

Fit places Philza on the chair, only able to stand and watch as Pac fits an oxygen mask to his face.

“He should really have,” Pac gestures a bit, frowning as he pulls the elastics properly. “I forget the word. But nobody knows how to do it, so…”

“That bad?” Fit asks.

“There’s not much to do. Makes it really scary,” Pac frowns, hands twitching a little as he pulls them away. “Can you help me? With the burns.”

“Of course. What do you need, Pac?”

Something useful to do is better than any other option. Fit is handed potions and ointments and dressings, and told the order to apply them in. While Pac works on Philza’s legs - the more extensive of the burns, with more of them deeper in what can only have been lava - Fit takes one of his arms.

He’s treated burns before, even extensive ones. Not usually with this many things, but he knows what he’s doing.

When the first of the potions is applied, Philza visibly flinches. His eyes, still wide, flicker between both of them, and then to the door - relaxing noticeably when he spies his sleeping children.

“Sorry it stings,” Pac smiles at Philza, and Fit can see how shaky it is.

“It’s fine, mate,” Philza’s voice is a bit drifty, but the surprise of the treatment seems to have drawn him back. All the way to full sentences, too. “Just means I still have feeling.”

… Fit might understand that sentiment, but he’s not exactly thrilled about it.

“Only you, Phil,” and his voice is more affectionate than he means it to be.

Philza turns and glares at him, and Fit swallows a laugh at how ridiculous he looks.

“You have said that before,” Pac points out, though it takes Fit a moment to realise it’s directed at him. “It /is/ true. Still hurts, though.”

Philza adjusts his position slightly, and Fit concludes that it must be the potions actually working that keeps him so present when he was spaced out so badly before. “Don’t worry, I’ve survived worse.”

Fit thinks of his friend knee-deep in lava, without the right protections, miles from home and alone in the Nether, living in a world where a single death means you’re gone forever.

He shudders, and hates it, and it really is not helping his fear.

“You know that’s not actually reassuring, right?” he tries to joke.

He needs to leave this ointment for a little bit. Fit shifts from working on the right arm to the left.

Philza shrugs in reply, but his throat catches. Pac is already bolting up to help and Fit reaching to support his back by the end of the stuttered breath. Philza manages to avoid the coughing fit, though, taking a few deep breaths of the oxygen and settling his lungs.

Once he has, he says whatever he meant to say. He keeps his voice quiet, and the hoarseness is still apparent, but at least Philza manages to avoid the breaking this time. “I do appreciate the help, guys, but I have fallen in lava and been fine before. Didn’t even have bandages then.”

That statement only serves to make the imagined scenarios worse. Fit tries to glare at his friend, only to soften when he sees just how exhausted the man looks.

He can’t win against his friends. He never has been able to.

“I get it,” Pac replies for him, deft fingers now bandaging Philza’s legs. “We didn’t either. But… It will heal better. Faster, cleaner, less infection risk.”

Fit nods along to Pac’s words, and uses the time to gather himself. Philza’s at least chatting, now; it’s easier to suppress the terror.

“Don’t you want us to care about you, Phil?” Fit reaches over with one hand, squeezing his shoulder like he always does when trying to give comfort. The idea of it actually hurts, now he’s vocalising it. “Are you saying you won’t let us worry? Don’t want us to care?”

They see Philza try to reply. This time, the stuttered breaths do turn into a coughing fit. He pulls the mask up to spit out the mucus, but holds it close, still trying to use that air. It doesn’t stop with one cough, or with two; Pac reaches up from his feet, resting Philza’s head against one shoulder as he loops arms around his back. Fit leans down, rubbing circles and hoping they help.

It keeps going and going, and Fit sees his own terror reflected in Pac’s eyes. He’s about to resort to screaming for Cucurucho when the coughs finally cease, Philza’s body weak and trembling from the exertion.

Gently they ease him back into the chair. Fit fixes the mask back into place, while Pac clearly frets about something in his mind.

Even Philza seems to notice that, his eyes shifting to watch Pac.

It breaks the seal.

“How, ah, bird are you?” Pac clearly doesn’t know if that’s a polite thing to ask, and, honestly, Fit has no idea either. He can only shrug in reply to the unspoken question. “I don’t know crows, but…”

Philza takes another moment or two, chest heaving but at a much slower pace than before, “not sure, sorry, I just live like this.”

The reason why Pac asks suddenly clicks - canaries in a coal mine, but all birds are more vulnerable to smoke than humans. Their respiratory systems just being weaker to it.

At least Fit can reassure that one.

“We’ve run through a fire together before,” he says, skimming over the terror of that event too in his mind. “If he took the smoke worse than me, it wasn’t enough to notice.”

Pac may as well collapse in a heap on the floor for all the relief in his eyes - he doesn’t, but it seems a close-born thing. “Still… you really need a hospital.”

It’s muttered, it’s quiet, it’s been said before, but it’s unfortunately very true.

Fit can see the laugh growing on Philza’s face, and also how he struggles to hold it in.

“Welcome to the island, Pac,” Philza manages to say instead. “You read an out of date medical textbook ten years ago, and it makes you about the best we’ve got.”

“It was a biochemistry book,” Pac corrects, and it either explains a lot or nothing at all. “And some websites. I’ve practiced on Mike, though. We both set many things on fire.”

Philza cannot escape an amused snort this time, but it clearly messes with him enough to fuck his breathing once again. Fit keeps an eye on it as he finishes treating his arms, and sees Pac doing the same with his legs.

They drop the topic to work, using each other as a support they might not even really have.

Once the bandages are all in place and Philza seems to be doing better… Well there’s a goat in the room, isn’t there? Because someone set Philza on fire, using lava Fit couldn’t even see.

“Phil…” he isn’t sure how to phrase it but it needs to be said. “I have some idea, but… what did you see?”

“Not a lot,” Philza answers willingly enough, though he twitches as he does. Fit places a hand over the back of his neck, and hopes it’s reassuring. “Kinda like the other two. The bunker was on fire, there was a trail to a book and some items and pictures. Used fire res, but I only had the one… Ran out about when you arrived.”

That gives them a timescale for just how long, at least - fire res offers some smoke protection, so… But then, perhaps he was breathing it in before he awoke or used the potion, too.

“And the book?” he asks, because it’s always the books that seem to scare his friend the most - it was the book Fit couldn’t see he was reading and rereading when he arrived, that probably stopped him leaving before the fire res ran out.

“What do you want me to say?” despite his weak voice, it’s clear Philza is frustrated by the whole thing. “It’s the Blaze Empress, but what does it matter?”

“Is she liable to kidnap you?” Fit asks first, because after the Ender King talk he /needs/ to know if this is another threat or not. “I know you were worried about…”

He glances at Pac, and realises he will actually have to explain that later. Now Pac’s been here and seen this and is kinda involved all over again.

“I don’t know, Fit,” Philza doesn’t seem as scared this time - still terrified, but more burnt out, more exhausted, more likely to give in than run. “In my dreams of her realm… lava is… people. And the quartress has a bee farm. In the /Nether/. It’s not… It can’t be… There’s no sense here.”

Fit and Pac share a look, and Pac agrees to take on the burden of speaking.

“You burnt from the lava,” he hesitantly offers. “I don’t think… you can hallucinate that?”

Yeah, no, Fit’s seen a lot of cases of mind over matter, and none of them result in that sort of happening.

They watch Philza struggle for a time. Pac starts putting the leftover bandages away, constantly glancing back to check on their shared friend. Philza’s lips move, and reassass, grimace and frown and just… don’t seem to know what to do.

The building distress is obvious, though.

Fit’s about to try soothe him again when Philza opens his mouth again. This time, it’s not just weak - they can hear genuine vulnerability, and the first hints of terrified sobs.

“If she’s real, the war is real. She… She can reshape reality, but the Ender King can steal it. /Has/ stolen it,” Philza stops for air, tears trying to streak down his face. “Entire swathes just… gone. In the blink of an eye. He did it to her… the quartress… hangs in a void… I- I can’t- They’re fighting over me now, Fit, they fought over the world and now they’re fighting over me and there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s… There’s not going to be a world /left/, Fit, not if they fight again! If… If they come, if they take me… Don’t try to stop them, don’t come after me - /please/, Just…”

Philza glances at his children. The sobs break his speech, but it’s so obvious what he means.

“Oh Phil…” Pac whispers, barely audible.

“Of course,” Fit promises - at least to looking after Chayanne and Tallulah. He’ll never promise to never try rescue a friend, not if he sees the option.

The sobs continue, and there’s nothing either of them can really do.

“I-” Philza breaks through them to try to talk, turning desperate eyes on Fit. “I’m scared- I- don’t… I-”

Fit lets the air entirely out of his lungs, and leans over to hug his friend. It’s awkward and it’s difficult, but they manage all the same. He hopes its comforting - Philza presses hard against his chest - because it’s all he can do.

Pac scrambles up onto the arm of the chair, then hesitantly leans over. He presses his weight to Philza’s back, and wraps his arms around his front.

Together they hold him as he sobs, hoping it’ll be soothing enough to avoid another coughing fit.

It isn’t.

This one isn’t as bad as the last, but it’s still terrifying. Fit does his best to soothe in tongue clicks, while Pac rubs his back and begs him to breathe.

Sobs bubble harder into the coughs, eventually winning back over.

“You need to calm down,” Fit says - not because crying is terrible, but because it’s causing his friend to choke. “Please, Phil, you need to calm down.”

Philza doesn’t. He keeps crying and crying and crying, shaking and terrified and seeming so small where he’s trying to curl in the chair.

There’s no chance to ask him about it, either; the tears have to end eventually, but they only cease as he drifts off to sleep.

Fit gives him a moment, checking that, and turns to Pac.

“He cried himself out,” he whispers. “Do we need to wake him up?”

Pac hesitates, clearly trying to remember. Eventually he shakes his head, “put him on the bed. We just…keep an eye on him.”

“Alright. Can you get the oxygen?”

It’s easy enough to move him to the bed, far easier than carrying Philza to the pool in the first instance. Pac moves various bits of equipment around them, clearing the path and making sure the tube on the mask doesn’t tug, the last one being to pull down the sheets.

Philza is very definitely asleep by the time he’s laying on them. Pac sets up a little more stuff, pushing fluids into his veins and tracing his heartbeat just in case, but there’s only so much he knows how to do. Roier knows more - did more for Forever - but Roier is missing, and Pac’s knowledge is from scientific testing, not medical.

Once Pac is done fiddling, Fit tucks the blankets around his friend. He’s led to a pair of chairs positioned to watch both Philza and the children, and collapse into them.

“Well, fuck,” Fit says, because he really has no other words for the situation.

“Will he be okay?” Pac replies, glance flittering between Fit, Philza, and the sleeping children.

“You’re the closer to an expert than me.” Fit drapes an arm over his eyes, trying to hide from the very bright lighting.

“The burns were a lot, but didn’t have time to get very bad. His breathing is worrying but it’s, ah, improving. I want to do more, Fit, but I don’t know what to do,” Pac shuffles in his chair. “I am not trained for this. But… I meant… in his brain. Will he be okay in his brain?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it,” Fit frowns. “The shit he sees is definitely real, but it’s not the same real so he’s still going to be left doubting it all. And Philza does /not/ handle doubt.”

“The same real?” Fit peaks out under his arm, and sees confusion writ on Pac’s face.

“Yeah,” he frowns himself. “The lava? I couldn’t see it, even as it was burning him. Hell I was standing on the same floor he tried to walk on. It was a brainfuck - he fell through the floor into the lava, but it was still there.”

“Like BadBoy’s ghost blocks?”

“Not really,” Fit, still not sure what he saw, struggles to explain. “Or, kinda? But like the ghost block could also have lava inside it. The lava and the floorboards were in the same place, just you sink in lava.”

Pac pulls a long series of faces, clearly struggling with the concept. After a bit, he clicks, “more like… hiding cables for storage?”

“Maybe?” Fit doesn’t really know a lot about that. “Whatever it was, it was terrifying. And the beings contacting him? Being powerful enough to do /that/? He asked me not to intervene if he gets kidnapped, but I don’t even know if I could!”

Pac scoots a little closer, leaning over the arm of the chair to rest on Fit’s shoulder. Fit reaches up, entangling a hand into his hair. “You’d try.”

“Damn right I would,” because of course Fit would. They might all be as good as powerless here, their actions having even less meaning than in the Wasteland, but he’s still going to /try. Good friends are hard to come by, and he’s not going to let some extra-dimensional fuckery steal one of his away.

Not if he has a choice, anyway.

“It’s just…” Fuck, Fit has to tell Pac, doesn’t he? “Does the name the Ender King mean anything to you?”

Fit watches Pac think very hard about the question, focus and concentration mixing into one. After a few minutes he looks back at Fit, “like… Enderman? But a king?”

“I guess?” Fit shrugs a bit. “Phil did say he’d have no idea if he were here - there’s no marks of him, but he mostly exists in another realm.”

“No, then,” Pac shakes his head a little. “Just… that. Phil said something?”

“Yeah, few weeks back,” Fit pulls a face. “With the egg shoes? It was when he called me off that day.”

Pac nods, “the shoes were cute.”

“They were,” Fit smiles a bit at the happier memory. “But Phil… Chayanne and Tallulah were with him, and I swear its only that that stopped him having a panic attack. He’d had that other message - the one you were there for? That scared him, but the second one /terrified/ him. Was promising Chayanne and Tallulah he’d always get back to him, to behave if he was kidnapped, laugh-sobbing when Chayanne promised to kill whatever scared him, the works.”

“And it was the Ender King? He mentioned it today, too.”

“Yeah…” Fit trails off, unsure what else to say.

There’s quiet for a moment, before Pac speaks up again, “how did Phil, er, how does Phil know them?”

Fit takes a deep breath, trying both to remember and work it out. “He /says/ it’s from his dreams. He dreams of living in another world, really consistently, really vividly, and these… entities are its rulers. He doesn’t remember all of them, though, it’s still just a dream.“

“Memories, maybe?” Pac asks. “Does he have amnesia too?”

“Maybe?” Fit frowns. “He remembers shit with me well enough, but I don’t remember enough about the rest to compare. Could be the Feds just stole part of them.”

“Which means we all might have all-powerful supervillians after us,” Pac’s eyes are a bit wide.

“And who would even be after you?” Fit laughs, already knowing who is after him.

“I am an international criminal wanted in five countries,” Pac mocks some offence. “Entire governments want me dead!”

They can both only hold it for a moment before descending into giggles. It takes a few moments to recover, their foreheads pressed together.

“The Blaze Empress sounds… fiery,” Pac muses, once he has recovered. “And Endermen hate water. Maybe he should make an underwater safe zone? Just in case.”

“We can suggest it once he’s feeling better,” Fit promises. “Knowing Phil, he’s already got one hidden away somewhere, he just hasn’t thought of it.”

Pac might be the least paranoid of the three of them, but that really is not saying much. Fit can already see the calculations running, and so gently pokes his nose. There’s a jolt of surprise, and a soft smile. “Fit?”

“Thanks for your help,” Fit says, trying his best to be genuine. “Sorry about the night… We can talk more in the morning, and rearrange to another time?”

“Philza is important,” Pac shrugs. “We can adjust.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’ve done the same for Mike,” Pac’s voice is a bit soft.

There’s not much Fit can say to that. Instead he just moves on.

“Do you want to sleep first, or shall I?”

Pac glances at Philza, then the time, “you sleep first? There’s more likely to be problems earlier.”

“Alright,” Fit doesn’t want to leave either of them, but they all need sleep. “Wake me in a few hours, okay?”

Pac nods, and shoos him off.

There’s too much to talk about in the morning - Fit already knows they never will finish the conversation, not even if Philza is stolen from their watch and tormented by gods from another realm.

It’s fine, though, it’ll be fine.

He lays awake, failing to think of a solution, listening to Pac watch low-volume Brazilian romance films until his own dreams steal him away.

[zenscrypt]

"on feathers and dreams"

read it on ao3!

Rated: T (Teen and Up Audiences)

Content Warnings: possession, brief self-harm (ender king hurts purposefully hurts phil's body), drowning, brief vomiting

Summary:

“This is what happens when mortals steal from gods, crow,” the King snides, narrowing his eyes as he clenches the fist tight. “Now, quiet down. I think it’s about time I’ve rested, now that you’re out of the picture.”

Somewhere in his monologue, the King doesn’t pick up footsteps somewhere behind them -- but Phil does. His ear feathers twitch.

A soft voice calls out, “Phil?”

-- A self-imposed exile leads to a reunion.

You.

His skin writhes with an intruder's presence.

“What about me?” he rasps, aching eyes watching the ocean underneath him. The sun had set moments ago -- maybe hours, but he’s stopped counting -- and now, the waves lap at the cliff walls with a hypnotic motion. How long has it been now? Weeks? When was the last time he slept? Ate? Did anything besides stare vacantly at the endless horizon and entertain that nagging voice in his head.

Every part of his body aches since that moment in the forest -- he had to wrench the control away at each second, demanding the movement of his own body. His eggs had run from it. His body remained frozen so he wouldn’t chase after them with the dagger in his hand. The backpack is gone. He’s powerless.

Even his voice comes out wrong. His vocal chords are wrung from two warring voices fighting over them, a deep snarl so unlike what his body is used to, and his normal voice. It’s all… wrong.

Let me out.

The voice hisses, sharp and ringing in his head. It has no face, but he still raises an incredulous eyebrow. “Is that the best you can do?” he scoffs. “No. You’ll have to beg harder than that if you want to escape so badly.”

A quiet sea breeze rustles through his feathers. It all feels still, peaceful, static. Normally, he would be lulled to sleep by this, but something in his body refuses to let him sleep.

When he looks up, the void stares back at him.

What a familiar face. Distantly, he thinks of it as home. The night sky, free of twinkling stars and suffocating clouds, just a vast emptiness for him to soar through. This island was nice, but it was only a vacation.

The End was where he belonged.

Let me out.

“You can keep demanding that,” he sighs, disappointed. It’s like he isn’t even trying. He’s bored by each attempt because it hasn’t changed. Has it been days? “I won’t give it back so easily at your request.”

You will pay for this.

“Will I, now?”

Give me back my body.

The voice rumbles now, deep in the back of his head -- and his wings flare. “Your body?” he hisses sharply. Indignation rushes through him. His body? Does he even hear what he’s saying? “What makes you think this body is yours? It’s always belonged to me. Has your greed gotten to your head?”

You are so full of shit.

There it is.

His lips twist into a grin that stretches too thin on his cheeks. “Oh, crow,” he croons, “do you really think your insults will do anything to you like this?”

Fuck. You. Ender.

He laughs, louder, booming off the cliff face. “Face it, Philza. You’re useless like this.” The King taps his claws — his claws, not flimsy talons, dripping with the tears of the void — against stone and rolls his neck back, spreading out his wings. His wings. “Be patient. I haven’t had my fun with you yet.”

Do not hurt my kids.

“And what will you do about it?”

The King’s mind falls silent.

He hums. Typical. All bark and no bite from this little pest. “Try to take your body back. Speak for yourself if you think you’re strong enough,” he goads, returning his gaze to the void.

Die.

A laugh erupts from The King’s chest again. That really is the furthest he could do, isn’t it? How pathetic. “I will repeat this until it finally sticks to your feeble little brain, Philza: we are one and the same. You conquer every new land you’ve traveled across and steal every last piece of valuable treasure from its habitat -- and you say it’s for protection. For your safety. For your eggs. Do you really believe that fantasy that you’ve made up? Do you really think I would believe these lies you tell yourself? We both know the real reason you claim all of these things for yourself. Right?”

I didn’t take them.

The audacity. The King’s wings flare out again, feathers standing on end with rage and the pulsing amethyst light branding into his skin. “Do not lie to me, Philza.”

I didn’t take your fucking wings.

“Do not lie to me!” he roars. His fist slams into the ground, knuckles first -- and the King hears bones snap and break with a grotesque pop. This mortal body is just a puppet for the King to control, so Philza is the only one to feel the pain receptors firing. He hears a sharp, pained cry in his head and Philza’s pitiful voice finally quiets. Insolent brat.

The King lifts the damaged appendage with a flat stare. The stone underneath his first had cracked under the force, but Philza had a fast metabolism, so the hand slowly began to repair itself before the King’s eyes. It was hardly fascinating. Dragons could regrow heads.

Once it fixes itself entirely, the King rolls the wrist to test it out. It must still feel tender or sore, because he feels an involuntary flinch in his wings. He has to bite back a snarl. Of course Philza picked his wings for that.

“This is what happens when mortals steal from gods, crow,” the King snides, narrowing his eyes as he clenches the fist tight. “Now, quiet down. I think it’s about time I’ve rested, now that you’re out of the picture.”

Somewhere in his monologue, the King doesn’t pick up footsteps somewhere behind them -- but Phil does. His ear feathers twitch.

A soft voice calls out, “Phil?”

---

He didn’t hide his location on the map. It had to be a sign.

Missa had to believe that.

He told Phil he would protect him. As best as he can, with all of his willpower. Sure, he isn’t the strongest and he can barely hold his sword right sometimes, but he made that promise to Phil and he intends on keeping it.

“Tallulah… Tallulah told me,” he says to the black wings shadowing Phil’s seated form. The moon sits high in the clouds and against his back as Missa takes a step forward. It’s almost eerie, how still Phil’s body went at the sound of his voice. Just moments before, it was bellowing with a voice so unlike Phil’s, Missa was convinced somebody else -- something else -- was here.

Rose-weaved signs flash in his head. [ he… he hurt me ] [ but papa is still in there ] [ i know he is ] [ i dont know what to do apa ]

Chayanne had disappeared too. Part of Missa hoped he would find his little egg here too, along with Phil, bantering as they farmed in a new location or sparring with Phil’s cawing laughter and Chayanne’s adorable quacks. It was… wishful thinking at best. He couldn’t just ignore Tallulah’s fears.

There’s no response, so he continues cautiously, “You don’t have to say anything. I just… want to know if you’re alright. I don’t think you should be alone.”

Phil’s head lifts. Blond strands roll over his shoulder, but he doesn’t look completely over to meet Missa’s eyes. “How did you find me?”

He… sounds fine. Maybe too fine — it comes out flat, lacking any of his usual inflections, and cold. If Missa hadn’t known any better, he would’ve taken that answer the second he heard it.

But he doesn’t. “I came as soon as I heard,” he murmurs, trying to see past the shadows of Phil’s face. There’s the faintest glow of something violet illuminating his face from a downward angle. Underneath his black feathers, a pattern of light pulses slowly, like a heartbeat. Missa doesn’t tell him -- them? -- how long it took. They don’t need to know that; as long as they-- Phil knows that Missa was looking for him, that’s enough.

“You’re too late.”

“Maybe I am,” Missa says without missing a beat, confident as he takes another step forward. Phil’s wings begin to spread and, despite the warning signs, Missa advances. “I’m always late, aren’t I? Phil-- I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t respect my promise like I told you I would. I woke up for Tallulah, spent as much time with Chayanne as I could, but-- I couldn’t do it for you. I’m sorry.”

The Ender King scoffs. Missa shoves aside the queasiness rising inside his empty ribcage, because they’re using Phil’s voice but it sounds nothing like him. He knows better. “Your apologies mean nothing to me. He’s too far gone to hear this. Leave me, or else.”

Or else. Or else what? Missa’s resolve burns through the dread that tries to freeze him in place. “Tallulah wanted me to tell you, if I found you,” he continues with another step, and another dangerous twitch of those obsidian wings, “that she forgives you for attacking her. You’ve always looked out for her and Chayanne -- that’s why you’re doing this now, right? You just want to protect them. She knows. She forgives you.”

Tallulah doesn’t.

That’s the thing. She was terrified at the thought of following after Chayanne to try and find her papa, conflicted because of the fear this deity instilled into her and her love for her father. She didn’t take to any of Missa’s reassurances -- she was as stubborn as her feathered parent, albeit so much more intune with her emotions.

More importantly though, Tallulah told him that Phil knows she wouldn’t forgive so easily. It takes time for her to recover from her wounds, no matter how fresh they are. Phil would know this.

When Phil’s body finally turns to look at Missa, his eyes are wide. “She does?” he whispers, in utter disbelief.

Missa nods. “I missed you,” he adds quietly.

…There’s truth to that one, unfortunately. It feels too easy, and he hates that it works. Phil’s body sways as they stand up -- and Missa rushes to close the gap between them, reaching for Phil’s hands. They’re almost unrecognizable now, covered with black scales and nails sharpened into something far stronger than this sharper-than-average, black-painted nails.

He’s always loved Phil’s hands. The few nights where they were under the same roof, he asked if he could paint Phil’s nails for him. It was something that brought unnamed nostalgia to Missa, a memory from his past life he couldn’t exactly grasp, and it was a fun night where they learned they could paint Chayanne’s nubby paws as well. Phil’s hands were always nice and well-kept.

Like this, they’re completely gone. Not to mention the black mass pulsating on Phil’s shoulders with that violet glow he spotted earlier. His nonexistent stomach twists into knots. He rubs his thumbs along gnarled knuckles and, holding eye contact, asks Phil, “Are you okay?”

Phil’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. The wind lets his hair sway, his wings ruffle, and the act is laughable. Missa almost feels insulted. “I’m fine,” they reassure Missa with no reassuring inflection. “Now, what did th-- Tallulah tell you?”

Missa glances away. “She… everything, Phil. It- it freaked me out a little bit, but-- are you sure you’re okay? I just wanted to come here to make sure everything was fine. I’ll leave if you want.”

Phil’s wings twitch again -- Missa’s starting to realize this must be an involuntary twitch, because the sigh they let out sounds… aggravated, and the wings tense against Phil’s back again. Missa tries not to let his surprise show. He’s still in there.

Behind Phil’s body, past his wings, the edge of the ocean meets the starry sky. It’s an impressive sight. They’re fairly high up.

“I told her not to tell any more people,” Phil’s voice says with another displeased sigh. His eyes lift back to Missa’s. Gone are the beautiful azure he loved so much, replaced with a cold, amethyst purple. When they look at Missa, it’s like they’re looking through him. “How much do you know? The King won’t be happy when he hears about this.”

You don’t seem like it, Missa thinks, unimpressed. He swallows and glances away from Phil’s changed eyes. “I- I mean, I can pretend I don’t know anything? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t snoop.”

He’s still in there somewhere. Missa needs to get him back.

He… isn’t a fan of the idea he’s come up with though.

Phil’s eyes soften. He reaches up carefully with his unbroken hand, cupping the underside of Missa’s cheek in his black, clawed hand delicately, as if he were a flower. His touch is ice-cold against Missa’s wispy skin. “I’m sorry, my love,” he whispers, violet eyes searching his. “This is all my fault.”

Alright. That’s enough.

Missa slams his hands into Phil’s chest.

Lo siento, querido.

The cliff’s edge drops off directly into the ocean. Missa saw it as he paddled his boat to the island and worried, for the longest moment, that Phil’s distant figure was going to jump. Would he have flown, if he did? Did the deity Rose heal his wings like Chayanne told him? Would it be Phil that finally gets to spread his wings -- or somebody else?

Phil doesn’t fall. His only tether to stability beside his feet, desperately scrambling against the stony edge, is Missa’s hand, clenched around the collar of his kimono.

“What--” The King snarls -- his voice booms suddenly, unnaturally deep in Phil’s light voice and echoing over the cliffside.

Missa holds firm, staring down violet eyes stretched wide as saucers. He can’t hold this for long, but he keeps his stance balanced. There’s a chance this might not even work. Missa could be wasting his time.

Better him than Chayanne.

Phil’s wings pump through the air for his own balance. The flaps are stilted and uneven, strangely enough -- it’s not instincts trying to keep him upright. Something is holding them back. Is something trying to… keep them closed? Hope wells inside Missa’s chest.

The loud, thunderous voice quiets back to Phil’s as if nothing happened. “What do you think you’re doing?” they say incredulously, feigning innocence.

“Let me talk to him,” Missa says firmly.

They bat his eyes. “Talk to who? I’m right here, love.”

It’s all wrong. How smart does this thing think they are? Missa’s arm starts to shake with the strain of holding Phil’s weight -- so he gives the thief a thin, weak smile. “Philza never calls me love.”

Cloth slips from his hands, and Phil’s body plummets.

Without missing a beat, Missa dives after him.

(He really hopes the Ender King is allergic to water.)

There’s barely enough time for Phil’s body to rotate and catch the airs in his wings for flight. Those huge, black shadows billow in the wind as the thing controlling his body thrashes, suddenly out of his element, eyes stretched wide and fear in their grimace. Those wings have been broken for so long. Maybe, if they had the chance, they could’ve flipped around and taken control of his flailing body as they fall.

Missa can’t let that happen.

It’s a horrible feeling, taking hold of Phil’s wings in the air. Claws flash, but Missa grits his teeth through the pain and the cold drip of his blood down his face to hold Phil’s body as tightly as he can. Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento, lo siento.

Faintly, as the ocean below swallows them whole, Missa wonders… if Phil could fly, would he take Missa with him?

The water around them makes everything go blurry, sluggish, heavy. Missa is naturally weightless, but the armor he’s wearing lets him sink further down. More claws swipe at him until their squirming gets to be too much -- they break free with a sharp knock against Missa’s jaw and shove him away.

The Ender King’s eyes are terrified. They’re holding their breath, eyes wide and furious when they glare at Missa, but quickly, they look back up to the surface above them and try to swim for it. They kick Phil’s legs and pump his wings frantically -- Missa panics, thinking they’ll manage to escape the second they break free from the ocean’s grasp -- but then, Phil’s wings stiffen up. Their eyes shrink even further.

“No!” they screech, and all of the air rushes out of them in large, globe-like bubbles. As loud as the voice once was, the water muffles the booming effect, as if trying to silence his cries. “Stop-- give me back my body, you--”

All of Phil’s limbs freeze in their scramble. Missa watches as they try to suck in another breath and only take in the seawater, sputtering and seizing. It’s horrific, trying to watch somebody you love try to fight for control with no room to breathe. What is he supposed to do? What can he do?

The King continues babbling, voice growing shrill without any oxygen in his lungs, “Not again! Not again, I can’t-- No--”

Missa counts the bubbles rushing from his lips until there’s no more. The ocean grows still. Quiet. Phil’s body sinks.

Limp.

He’s going to die.

The realization spurs Missa into action immediately. He went unconscious, but Missa only has a minute until Phil dies and respawns somewhere else.

Hurried, frantic Spanish spills out of him as he takes Phil’s body in his arms and swims up to the surface -- Phil’s head lulls onto his shoulder the second they both break free. Land- land-- where--

There! Where Missa left his boat, a small shore under the cliff roof, but far away. Too far for Missa to reach with Phil’s -- heavy -- body in tow. Hastily, he searches his inventory.

It’s cluttered with random items he picked up along the journey after Phil’s map marker, but a singular enderpearl catches his eye. Thank the gods he decided to take it with him for some reason, as if he could’ve spoken with the Ender King through it or some shit-- it doesn’t matter. Missa grabs it and, without missing a beat, launches it in the direction of the beach.

As it flies, Missa wraps his arms around Phil’s body and squeezes him as tight as possible against his chest. Please teleport with me, please teleport with me, please--

Pop! Missa hits sand with a heavy weight in his arms.

It worked. He has no time to celebrate. Carefully, he adjusts Phil onto his back, taking as much care as possible with his wings, laying them out flat and not kneeling over sodden feathers, and his trembling hands hover over Phil’s body. The death counter ticks in his eyes. Fourty seconds.

And counting down.

Dios mio. What does he do?

Breathing-- is Phil breathing? He peels off his gloves and throws them somewhere in the sand, bones rattling in the dark wisps that make up his skin and making it nearly impossible to stay still to check for air. He hates how pale Phil looks, and the dark circles around his eyes, and the way his face is too slack -- is he breathing? If Missa’s hands would stop shaking--

Twenty-five seconds. Phil still hasn’t moved. Tears well in Missa’s eye sockets. Why hasn’t he moved?

Pulse-- check for a pulse-- please, why isn’t he-- it’s the best thing Missa can do, carefully pressing against Phil’s neck, trying to remember where the pulse point is. Twenty seconds. He bites his tongue to hold back a whimper. Phil, please--

Thmp. He can barely feel it. Thmp… thmp… thmp…

Is that--?

Water gurgles.

Immediately, Phil’s body seizes and water splatters from his open mouth -- Phil’s eyes shoot open as coughs rip from his throat. Missa retracts his hands with a surprised squeak, eyes stretching so wide it hurts but-- Phil?

He rolls to his side to dry heave, a painful, guttural noise that Missa hates, oh, Gods, please let him be fine. His whole body shakes with each retch. Missa, twitchy, anxious -- needing to do something because is it Phil, is he okay, how can he help -- finally gives into his urges and reaches over to brush Phil’s long hair out of the way as he vomits the seawater out.

When he finishes, Phil lets out a shaking breath and slowly, on shaking limbs, pushes himself up into a sitting position. Missa’s hands follow him carefully for support.

As he catches his breath, Missa hovers still. The silence wanes on. He can’t see his face -- his eyes, Missa just wants to check, dreading the sight of that same purple glow that’s still stuck under his feathers.

“Phil?”

His wings shift. Weakly, Phil’s head lifts to meet Missa’s seeking eyes.

Blue.

“Hey, mate,” Phil croaks, looking exhausted.

It’s-- Missa can’t help it -- an overjoyed sob escapes him, tears finally bursting from his eyes. “Philza!”

“Mis-- ouff--”

He doesn’t have time to return Missa’s exclamation the way they normally do before Missa collides into him all at once. A caw startles out of him -- so crowlike Missa is swarmed with adoration and endearment and relief. Phil’s okay, he’s alive, he’s back -- Missa has to bend down and shower his face in loud, blubbering kisses, vocalizing each with an exaggerated, “MWAH!” that makes Phil burst out into breathless laughter. It’s the only distraction Missa can give himself, trying so hard to keep his trembling bottom lip shut.

For Phil. For Phil.

“Okay, okay!” Phil laughs, craning his neck away for space but Missa only takes the opportunity to press his lips underneath his jawline and blow a raspberry against his skin. “What the fuck-- Missa! Chill out!”

His words are meant to be sharp, but he’s giggling like he’s drunk and Missa feels like it. It’s infectious; he feels silly laughing into Phil’s neck, needing to cling onto every inch of Phil’s skin he can reach, relieved and happy and so, so, so-- scared--

A sob tears out of him.

Missa has never been the strong one here.

“Oh, mate,” comes Phil’s achingly sweet murmur into his hair. Missa curls in on himself, into Phil’s embrace, letting the terror finally sweep over him.

Gods above, he almost killed Philza. He knows how painful death is for him, even if they respawn-- but if he respawned, he would be with Chayanne and Tallulah. He would’ve put them directly in harm’s way if he didn’t save Phil in time. They could’ve died because of him.

Missa wants to be strong for his family. He tells them, over and over again, he wants to protect them the way they protect him. He wants to be there for them when they need it. He wants to love them as much as he can.

But he can’t. He’s gone so often, and he can’t help it -- can’t help it when Death calls back to him in his sleep and he loses himself in his past again -- no matter how much he tries. If this plan of his failed, his kids would’ve been through the same thing. Gone, except, unlike him, they won’t be able to escape.

How can a protector do that? How can a father do that to his kids? He doesn’t deserve the title of a husband, much less a parent. All he does is sleep and dream, and-- and--

“I’m sorry.”

Missa hiccups. Phil’s voice vibrates against where he’s buried himself against his throat, his hands loose where they’re wrapped around Missa’s back. He leans just as heavily onto Missa, muttering, “This is all my fault.”

What?

Phil sucks in a breath -- and Missa hates that it sounds shaky like his sobs, which can’t be right. “I should’ve- I should’ve known he was coming after me. All of the warning signs were there. I took that stupid backpack without even thinking about it, and look where that fuckin’ got me. I’m-- god, I’m fucking stupid. The worst fucking dad.”

What? No, no, no-- Missa lifts his head away with his eyebrows knitted together, finding Phil staring resolutely away from him, his teeth gritted and eyes glimmering in the moonlight. That doesn’t make any sense. Why is he blaming himself? What is he blaming himself for? A deity possessing him? Is he being ridiculous?

“Phil, what are you talking about?” he whispers.

He watches Phil grind his teeth and give a very forced, controlled exhale through his nose. His eyes shift down to the sand underneath him, the space on his opposite side where Missa isn’t is, down into his lap. When he opens his mouth, his jaw trembles as he laughs something harsh and bitter, spitting, “I’m fucking terrified, Missa. I don’t know how to get myself out of this.”

His voice cracks in the middle of his words, and the second he finishes, Phil shatters.

Missa watches his face crumple in dismay. “No, no, no, querido,” he moves quickly and shushes him gently, gathering Phil in his arms. A strangled noise, torn between a sob and wail, gets muffled into Missa’s cloak and Missa cradles Phil’s head closer, pressing his lips to the golden crown of his hair. Skeletal fingers run through his scalp as delicately as he can.

How long has this been going on? How much has Phil been holding this all in?

Has he told anyone this?

Everybody must think of Philza as the most collected person on the island -- even Missa thought that, because who couldn’t? He held himself together well, kept to himself, and offered kindness whenever somebody needed help. He’s always been the one protecting -- because he never let anybody else do it for him.

He grew up so alone. Of course he would expect to manage on his own, but--

Missa screws his eyes shut, feeling more tears drip from his sockets. He can’t handle this problem by himself. And now…

Taking in a shaking breath to calm himself, Missa pulls away from Phil’s embrace. His face is red and splotchy, eyes swollen, and he makes another strangled grunt, covering his face with his hands to wipe away the tears and mucus. His shoulders still shake with labored breath and the occasional hiccup. He looks miserable.

Distantly, he wonders if he’s the only person that’s seen Phil like this.

Missa’s hands gently sweep away his to cup his jawline, tilting his face up. Tears stain his cheeks -- wet streaks that replace the sticky, dried-out marks from the seawater that was on his skin -- and Phil still can’t look him in the eye. He doesn’t seem like he’s used to this attention. This kind of vulnerability.

That’s fine. Missa brushes away the fresh tears that bead from his long eyelashes. He holds Phil, just like this, taking him in. He doesn’t want Phil to hide this from him, not when he’s here.

When blue irises finally focus on him, it’s shy. Missa’s chest flutters. Even like this, he can’t help but feel enamored by the crow in his arms. He had no idea someone so strong could look so bashful at someone like Missa.

Love is a strange thing, he thinks as he leans down and fits his lips over Phil’s.

It’s a simple message, a reminder. Phil tastes like seawater, but Missa drags him deeper, willing to drown himself in it for him.

Phil pulls away first -- his breathing still isn’t steady, and the kissing probably isn’t helping, but he stretches to meet Missa’s lips again anyway. It feels like a response -- Missa was fine as long as Phil heard, but he wants to return it-- him-- his head spins.

He doesn’t care if his feelings are reciprocated or if Phil even knows how far Missa is willing to go for him, always. Relief pours over him like honey and he sighs into the kiss, letting Phil take the lead.

There’s a bit of a challenge, namely Phil needing to breathe. He parts long enough to take in a breath before diving back in, and it’s-- endearing, tickles Missa in a way that makes him giddy, but he knows he should probably put a stop to this if Phil wasn’t going to, for Phil’s sake. He’s not the one with lungs here after all.

(He also wasn’t the one to almost drown.)

Despite this though, Phil chases after him the second he starts to pull away. His nose knocks into Missa’s skull, the edges of his nasal cavity -- and still, that doesn’t deter him. Missa’s endeared laugh gets muffled by Phil’s smiling lips; he can’t help but give into his fluttering chest and Phil’s touch.

Eventually, they part, just not very far. Missa rests his skull against Phil’s forehead -- at his insistence -- to listen to him steady his breath. Behind them, the waves lap at the sand. They’ve gradually dried over time thanks to the enchanted armor they wear, but Missa feels ready to collapse like he’s weighed down by bricks.

He can’t imagine how Phil must be feeling.

“Missa…?”

He blinks, sitting back on his (hurting) knees (ow, he’s been on them too long), peering at Phil. The crow looks like a mess still, but under the moonlight, Missa doesn’t care. Phil gazes at him, hesitant -- an expression Missa’s never seen on him before.

They… have a lot to talk about, don’t they? If Phil even feels comfortable enough to talk to him about it. Something nags in the back of Missa’s mind -- a horrible voice in his head that usually points out all of his insecurities -- that this feels too perfect. The Ender King disappeared too fast. They’re too happy.

Chayanne is still missing. Tallulah is no doubt worrying about him, and Phil, and now Missa. The sand underneath them is bathed in that eerie purple glow from the mass on Phil’s back -- he said something about a backpack? -- and Missa still feels the edges of his fears still gnawing at his bones. Phil isn’t okay, and there’s no telling the next time Missa may wake up.

Phil’s voice carries in the breeze. “Can… can you stay here tonight? With me?”

Oh.

A warmth, fuzzy and like the sun, coils in his ribcage. Missa nods, maybe a bit too aggressively, with, “Sí, sí, si me quieres aquí. Anything, Philza.”

Phil’s smile crinkles the edges of his eyes, his crow’s feet, in a way Missa thinks only he’s seen before. “Thank you. Th- thank you, Missa.” It sounds as if the world is lifted from his wings. Maybe it has.

It isn’t much, but it’s something. They find a spot underneath a tree, far from the beach or the stony cliff, and Phil lights up the area as much as he can despite his exhaustion. As they work together, they talk. This isn’t the end of it. The water scared Ender off, but it didn’t get rid of the mass on Phil’s back, or the darkened claws that were Phil’s hands.

It was enough for tonight. Phil hadn’t slept as a punishment to himself, afraid Ender would take control in his sleep -- but that ended in his downfall the moment his consciousness lapsed with the sleep deprivation. Ender swooped in, and Phil was too exhausted to try and fight back.

So it comes to no surprise that Phil’s asleep the second his head hits Missa’s lap.

Blond hair weaves through Missa’s skeletal hands as he chuckles quietly. With two fingers, he picks up a lock of his hair and presses his lips to it, murmuring to Phil’s sleeping face, “Buenas noches, querido. Que descanses.”

The moon above them wanes into something full, bright, whole -- a lunar eclipse just ending. It watches Missa slowly drift to sleep as well, hearing Death’s distant call.

For the first time in his existence, Missa fights against the natural calling of his undead body. Maybe it’s a pointless fight. Maybe Death will still claim him in the end. Maybe he’ll give into the urge with his fears too heavy and pressing in his mind and submit himself to the void.

He fights because he wants to wake up next to Phil. He can’t leave him alone after tonight. He wants to help him with this, in any way he can.

Just like he promised.

[dnalt-d2]

So About the Crows...

There's something I've been thinking about for a while, and I think it's time to bring it back up

We had some lore for Phil recently, regarding the Ender King. And with that, lot of people have been thinking that the Ender King is the one responsible for the black concrete around everything. (Since according to Phil's Hardcore Lore, it seems like when the Ender King tries to steal things, he leaves behind empty space in the form of black concrete. Or that's at least been implied)

And I'll be honest, this does sound super cool, but I wasn't sure if this could be the case. Though I'll admit that it's for a meta reason. I just wasn't sure if the admins would play such a big plot point around a singular player's lore. It seemed like something that would affect too much to be centered around a single player. And I do still think that personally. That it would be cool if the Ender King was the one responsible for all the concrete, but it just doesn't seem too likely for story reasons. (Though I do wanna note that this doesn't mean NONE of the concrete is from the Ender King. The concrete surrounding the first mysterious message Phil got could easily be attributed to him, but we just can't be sure)

But like I said at the beginning, there IS something I wanted to bring up that happened a while ago

Did you know that there were crows on the server at one point?

That Phil found a one in the wild, a pretty long time ago, but left it because "Oh he can just go back for it." But he never found another one

No one has

Even Dapper, the notorious mob collector, has noted that crows don't show up on the island anymore

Phil recently revealed that he doesn't specifically plan his lore himself. That he makes some broad suggestions, and the admins are the ones doing the finer details surrounding it. When he saw the note from the Ender King, he didn't know that was going to happen. He had no clue it would be the Ender King talking to him. Which as someone else noted, means that the admins planning this know about Phil's Hardcore Lore

Which would obviously mean they know about the crows. About US

I always wondered why the admins disabled crows, thinking maybe there's some ability they have that's a little OP. But I looked it up, and it looks like the main ability they have is the ability to collect items, and even put them in containers. Which compared to a lot of the other mobs from this mod, is pretty tame. The only other thing they seem to do of note is destroy crops (Though I am getting this from the Wiki, which I have noticed can be pretty bare-bones, so for all I know, there really IS a hugely OP ability they can do)

Now I'm thinking they had a different reason to disable the crows. A LORE reason. To Phil, we, the crows, are canon. We exist, basically just following him around and talking to him. But there aren't any crows there. We're not there. And this, along with everything that happened with the Birdcage, has just served to isolate him, driving him further and further into his deteriorating mental state. Instead of the usual crows, he sees parrots, and hummingbirds, possibly to distract him from their absence

Now I obviously don't know how long they've been planning all this lore, but it's just super weird that they disabled them in the first place. Maybe they knew they were gonna do SOMETHING regarding Phil, but didn't know what, and just disabled them to prepare for whatever they might eventually plan. Regardless, the crows are gone

But I think one day, possibly sooner than we think, the crows will be back

(AND IT'S PROBABLY GONNA BE A HEAVY DAY IF PHIL'S LAST LORE DAY WAS ANYTHING TO INDICATE)

[merao-mariposa]

AU of Missa being possessed by the Ender King but everything is reversed. Rose is the villain, who wants to take over the sky through Phil and interrupts EK's eternal rest when she tries to also take over the sea (he's still a bastard but hey, he wasn't bothering anyone)

So Rose poses as a kind entity, fools Phil that EK, a literal dead god, is trying to harm them when it's actually her and she possesses him (I imagine Rose's possession much scarier than EK's, vines crawl over Phil's skin, under his flesh and get tangled in his joints, like a puppet, the most terrifying thing is that Phil is aware all along this process)

EK gets angry about this because if Rose achieve her plan she would manage to penetrate EK's water coffin and kill him to take control of his dead/sleepy army. So mad that they woke him up from his millennia-old nap, he looks for a container arranged in the same dimension as Phil. And Boom. Possessed Missa and Phil figth.

Think about how the Greeks handle themselves, Rose needs a lot of power to fight one of the big three (Oceanhimbo) so she tries to have the remains of King Ender to beat him. Same with Phil and Kristin.

[isa-ghost]

More Avian Phil Headcanons

For @oopsiewhoopsiez :D

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Previous Avian Phil headcanons

One of his other running bits is having beef with plain glass. He can literally see it just fine. He pretends he doesn't. Tallulah will without fail fall to pieces emote when he gets on the bit.

Another running bit is that he has to resist the Urge to eat seeds when he's farming. He'll stand there dramatically trembling his hand with a bunch of seeds in it like hhough,, s e e d,, until the kids hit him like PAPA PLS.

GRAINS on the other hand he's like FUCK YEAH CONCRETE. He'll eat the shit out of some bread. Why do you think he likes avocado toast so much?

He whistles a lot, usually when he isn't thinking about it. Doesn’t realize he does it, much like the boosh boosh

I've mentioned it elsewhere but AAAA the gay ass intimacy of letting your husband help you preen!!!!

Believe it or not, his first instinct is Flight. It's more likely he's snuck up on or not expecting what's coming at him, so fighting is unwise because he doesn't know his odds and that's just straight up not survivalist to do. The best thing to do is flee first, THEN assess what was after him. The same way that birds often yeet the fuck away when something gets too close to them.

He knows a stupid amount of what to and what not to feed literal birds bc he knows what does and doesn't bother his own stomach. He has less intolerances than an actual bird, but he has a sensitive digestive system nonetheless. This does not stop him from pounding down Mexican food like a total whore, shit's too good.

He knows TONS of things about aerodynamics purely based off his experience with flying. He has a very easy time estimating how well something will fly

Btw he has excellent agility from all his flying. He's better in the air, but it can apply to the ground too.

He loves flying with other people :D If his wings had healed at the time, he would've 100% flown with Jaiden at some point :(

One of the main reasons he wants his wings healed is to take all his friends flying tbh. Which is what fucked him up most about Ender King destroying his wings before leaving his body :(

Tubbo loves asking him cursed questions related to bird things. Google "bird ass blasting" (I promise it's not smth bad, it's a real thing). Tubbo has asked Phil about this. Phil short circuited.

Oh you KNOW he thrives on making cannibal jokes when he eats chicken.

Another cursed thing Tubbo has said to him: "Chickens are like living dinosaurs which means they're old and chickens are birds and also you're a bird and you're old so therefore you're a living dinosaur."

Multiple islanders have made the joke that Phil has a secret wife who laid Chayanne and Tallulah bc they're eggs and he's a bird. It has made him die inside every time.

[greygoldennight]

Okay, being held a gunpoint so I need to post this /j

QSMP AUs (so far), it’s literally only 3 but like, I enjoy these ideas (Also if you see a pattern in these aus no u didn’t):

Enderdeal: au starts post-prison, Phil makes a deal with EK (who heavy manipulates him through his lack of protection from Rose and his lack of adequate ability to protect Chay and Lullah now that all his stuff is gone) in a desperate bid to keep his family safe. Part of the deal slowly corrupts Phil, giving him some ender-like traits, mostly the irratation at eye contact and moments of instinct mode disassociation, causing him to become more paternal towards the eggs (meaning man can and will kidnap the eggs back to his nest). Also includes: Morning crew (Fit, Pac, Tubbo, Cellbit, Bagi, Baghera, and Etolies) forming a “WTF is wrong with Phil” squad and trying to keep and eye on him without tipping him off that they know something’s up, a more active Missa actually finding out smth’s wrong with Phil, and the eggs attempting to find a way to contact Rose. (this was inspired by @isa-ghost AMFMN)

King!Phil: bad ending of the EK arc. Phil’s fully possessed by EK and attempts to overthrow the Feds. basically a better version of that one arc from that one cc we don’t talk about. This one wasn’t as fleshed out in my head, mostly I just drew evil Phil and went “yes, I’mma start a story in this” and never went much further than a fight scene w/ Fit, Etolies, Cellbit, and Baghera. And the idea of Missa, Chay, and Lullah being protected by the spirit of Techno.

Q-Osmp Au: Originally, this was inspired by @pepper-mintzyy osmp au writings. Basically, I’ve thrown Missa (phantom), Cellbit(cat), Roier(arachnid), Fit(human), Pac(starborn), Bagi(cat/vampire), Tina(unknown rn, just wanted to add lesbians), Jaiden(elytrian), Baghera(avian), Maximus(bear, this one was a suggestion), and Mariana(fallen angel???) into osmp. The idea has been: Roier, Cellbit, Missa, maybe Tina and Bagi, have no memory of qsmp, and just are travelers. Fit and Pac (with Ramon and maybe Richas, might throw him with Cellbit and Roier) have traveled from Qsmp to Osmp after corpse hole rescue. the rest have arrived via tubbtrain and cross-server portal. may or may not have their memories from qsmp, since the rest are recent additions.

And here are all my QSMP AUs! I have sketches for each, some are more recent than others. Honestly these have been rattling around my head but I haven’t had a ton of time to flesh them into a coherent story.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

I need you to know I’m eating (/pos) this sun moon stars hero dynamic. I’m infusing it into my very soul. It’s a fucking banger of a universe AND ITS EMDUO ON TOP OF IT? I’m thriving. My crops are watered my skin is clear. No notes except that I think that someone tries to fuck with Phil thinking he’s just a moon he can’t be that scary right except oops, get drop kicked into the next year. He may not be techno be he’s no damn pushover. (Also the idea of maybe Enderking as moon who can somehow STEAL sun powers rather than just reflecting it? Maybe?)

Phil absolutely gets mistaken for the Moon in their team up constantly with pretty disastrous results for whichever villain makes that mistake lol-

ALSO funny you should mention that because I actually had an idea that that's how Chayanne and Technoblade found out they're compatible as a team. The Enderking - a villain with some type of mind control / body control power - targets Phil and there is nobody there except Chayanne who can try to stop him. Techno arrives and can't link up with Phil in this state (it would kill both of them if he tried) so he and Chayanne tentatively try instead and it works really well and they defeat the Ender King together!

[jazzical1914]

A little self-indulgent possibility that could play out with Phil's lore when the server is back up. I'm absolutely terrible at actually writing fics out, but the idea grabbed hold of me pretty much fully formed and wouldn't go away until I wrote it down lol, so enjoy 👍

(If anyone wants to take this and make it a proper fic, please please do so and tell me so I can read your version of it 😄)

[ ] Phil, Pomme & Richarlyson rescue Baghera and Cellbit from Egg Island by outsmarting the Watcher and escaping on a boat

[ ] While they are celebrating the Watcher speaks to them and, angry at Phil, says there's someone he's been stopping from getting at Phil as he wanted the pleasure of destroying him himself, but he's revoking the 'protection' he'd been giving by not letting them find Phil

[ ] Everyone else is confused, but Phil gets what he means immediately and is terrified, suddenly realising how far away from Rose's protection he is

[ ] Almost immediately a black and purple void appears under/around Phil and starts to suck him in. The others try to save him, but they pass straight through the void without being affected by it or able to affect it and they can't pull Phil out

[ ] Phil is terrified and half begging them to get him out, half already resigned to the fact the Ender King has him. Eventually, the void swallows him completely, leaving Pomme, Richarlyson, Cellbit and Baghera safe and heading home, but having lost Phil

[ ] They get back to Quesadilla Island and people are thrilled to see them, but word spreads about Phil and people are devastated, since I'm pretty sure no one's character actually even dislikes Phil, they're all neutral at worst (even qQuackity was happy enough being cellmates with Phil) (other than Sunny, but I mean players)

[ ] After discussing with everyone about the void etc. everyone concludes it must be something to do with the End. Fit, Chayanne and Tallulah tell everyone about the visions and what he'd said about the Ender King and how scared Phil was at the idea of being taken by him

[ ] Etoiles says he's got everything he needs already to travel to the End, assuming nothing is blocking the way through to the dimension. At that point roses spawn and a chest appears covered in vines with a book in it.

[ ] Etoiles tries to read it, but it just looks like a lot of glitched text. They're a bit confused until Chayanne puts down a sign saying Missa should read it, since he already has Rose's protection from being able to access the Sanctuary

[ ] Missa can read it and it is from Rose apologising that she wasn't able to protect Phil and confirming he is now completely out of her range, so he is almost certainly in the Ender King's realm. The little power she and the others invested in Philza can bring together will be enough to be able to force the entrance to the End open for a short while, letting the Islanders in to rescue Phil if they will attempt it

[ ] Multiple people are immediately on board, with others agreeing shortly after. It's concluded that it's probably not a good idea for the eggs to go to the end to fight the dragon since it's so dangerous, but Chayanne, Tallulah, Richarlyson, Pomme, Dapper and Ramon riot at the idea of not going and eventually it's decided that everyone will go so that they all stick together

[ ] Etoiles leads them all to a stronghold that he's already made a base at, in preparation for when the End opens, because of course he has. They all make last minute preparations and head in to fight the dragon

[ ] There's lots of very subtle ways that the Ender King is trying to mess with them during the fight with the dragon. It takes longer to spawn into the End initially, the obsidian platform is ludicrously far away from the end Island (and it takes some quick block placing and quick thinking to get everyone to link arms to stop people falling into the void immediately) etc

[ ] Etoiles, Fit, Bad etc. have all done this before so it doesn't take a huge amount of time before the dragon is defeated, at which point the teleport appears like normal but with some blue and light blue glass panes around it, looking a bit like rain

[ ] Fit volunteers to go first so that if it's a trap they still have Etoiles to lead the fight and before anyone can object he throws a pearl through the portal and disappears (he might have time to steal a proper kiss from his boyfriend for good luck though 😉)

[ ] Fit messages that it's safe to come through and he's put down a sharestone. Bad puts one down on their side as well and people start to teleport through. On the other side is Endlantis.

[ ] As people all gather and are in awe of the scenery, there's a disturbance in the middle of the water and then suddenly Phil appears, flying up above them then floating in front of them by lazily flapping his wings. A few people call out to him, happy to have found him and amazed that his wings have healed, but Chayanne and Tallulah both almost immediately put signs down saying that's not their dad.

[ ] Phil laughs and it becomes very clear immediately that it's really not Phil as his voice doesn't sound anything like normal, being warbly like an Enderman and piercing. His eyes also glow purple and purple/black sparks travel along his arms and wings

[ ] Possessed Phil welcomes them all to his realm and invites them to stay forever as he will not allow them to leave. He does some powerful things like teleporting things around and completely no-selling an attack to show how scary he is and why Phil was right to be terrified of him

[ ] The islanders are adamant that they are leaving and that they will be taking Phil with them. Possessed Phil laughs and invites them to try, then goes in for an attack on Fit, starting a massive fight

[ ] Pretty much everyone gets involved in the fight, with people shooting arrows where they have them and people who have lassos or grappling squocks trying to use them to get Phil out of the air but he's dodging everything. At some point someone says something about the Ender King powering up Phil's flying ability but Fit is just 'no, he's always like this' as he's fought Phil before while he could fly

[ ] While the fighting has been going on the eggs have been told to stay back and they have been as while all of them want to help, none of them actually want to try to hurt Phil. Tallulah and Chayanne desperately want to help somehow but don't know what to do until Tallulah pulls out her flute and starts playing it. Possessed Phil falters, finally taking a hit, then turns and snarls at the direction of the eggs

[ ] Everyone takes this as a sign that Phil is still in there and they need to keep trying to get through to him. Tallulah keeps playing and Pomme joins in, with Chayanne and Dapper taking point in protecting them and the other eggs and islanders around them. Possessed Phil is getting angrier and attacking more harshly but also more predictably, making it easier for people land hits as well as just blocking him. They're still taking a lot of damage, though, and eventually he hits people aside so that he gets through to where Tallulah and Chayanne are. He says something about getting rid of the nuisances and goes to attack Chayanne with no one close enough to stop him. Chayanne goes to block, but instead of stopping the attack he goes straight past and stabs Possessed Phil as Phil managed to stop his attack himself. He smiles bloodily at Chayanne, congratulating him on a job well done, then falls over like a puppet with its strings cut as the Ender King stops possessing him.

[ ] There's just enough time for Missa and others to gather around Phil and see that he's alive, if hurt, before the Ender King's voice rings out saying that his pet explorer has failed him for the last time and Phil starts screaming until he disappears, teleported away

[ ] The group panic for a second before realising that since Phil came out of the middle of the water, it's very likely that that's where the Ender King is. The group all go together since anywhere flat and not covered in water (even including the glass) is starting to get covered in Endermen. Everyone is being very careful to not look directly at any of them, but it's looking like they'll be safer in the water, even if it's closer to the big bad guy

[ ] They go to the centre and swim down a staircase under a giant dragon skull until it comes back up to a throne room that is out of the water. Phil is restrained up on the wall, unconscious, with his wings spread out like an insect on display. On the throne is the Ender King, entirely bones with glowing purple eyes.

[ ] The fight resumes as they want to rescue Phil, but they can't really do anything to damage him, while he is throwing people around and pulling endermen and shulkers from elsewhere in the End.

[ ] Bagi, Cellbit, Tubbo, AyPierre and Ramon had disappeared at one point but Bagi comes running back into the throne room yelling for everyone to get near the walls and to get Phil down. Cracks start to appear in the ceiling and the high pressure of the weight of the water above sends spray through the room

[ ] The Ender King starts trying to summon blocks to reinforce the ceiling and Fit, Pac and Mike take the opportunity while he's distracted to climb up and start getting Phil down off the wall

[ ] By the time they've got him off the wall the ceiling is gushing water and they can see drill heads starting to poke through. Cellbit and Tubbo run in saying how the Create machine they built (when they realised water would be key to getting themselves out and away from the Ender King) is now running on it's own in the last stages and everyone needs to get out

[ ] The Ender King is basically possessing his bones, but he can't actually move them so he's stuck. Phil has been fully unconscious until now, but the Ender King possesses him again to try and get away, but on the ground and submerged in water, Fit, Etoiles etc. are enough to keep him from doing anything. Possessed Phil snarls and threatens them, but they herd him up the stairs, away from the Ender King's body

[ ] The ceiling fully breaks through and water pours in, fully submerging the room. As the Ender King's bones are fully covered in water, Phil gasps awake as himself, with the Ender King retreating due to not being able to get at Phil while submerged

[ ] The islanders waste no time getting out of there, although a few people, including Phil, need some help getting back to the sharestone. Etoiles grumbles about finally being in a different dimension and not getting chance to actually gather any new materials

[ ] Once they are back at spawn there is general rejoicing and roses and vines spawn all over the area, a sign that Rose is very happy Phil is back. Chayanne and Tallulah both pick roses and give them to Phil. Phil thanks everyone for rescuing him and it's a happy ending 😊

[ ] Omake 1, Cucurucho/Federation workers appear and intend to arrest people for unauthorised dimension travel. However, vines keep tripping them or dragging them backwards so every time they try to approach they get pulled further away. Phil laughs himself silly

[ ] Omake 2, Etoiles heads back to the base he has at the stronghold and gathers up his expedition gear. He refills the eyes of ender on the portal that were used up in Rose etc's attempt to keep the portal open for the whole group to get through and jumps in... and ends up right back at spawn, with the End realm being blocked off again. Cue dramatic NOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo...........😆

[finnitesimal]

you reblogged that old ask about pissa ever going anywhere with their relationships and i've had some thoughts about this topic and it's probably gonna become a little bit of a rant so no pressure answering or even reading it's your askbox of course. so firsts things first jusr as you said the the answer to that task missa would definitely have to be more present on the server for this to not fall flat and feel very surface level. that being said the ender king stuff that's been going on with phil could potentially be a catalyst for things to move forward but personally i don't know if i like this idea 100%. while it is crucial to phil's character because well it's his lore! i presonally wouldn't like missa to become just an extension to him and a plot device for his story. i'd love missa to have more developement on his own or with other people first because as you said yourself a lot of the times when he's on the server him and phil barely leave each other's side.

the thing with phil ignoring missa's feelings in a way is that it could be easily attributed to him being a repressed old bird, which well, he totally is. and the threat of the ender king constantly looming over him and his loved ones definitely doesn't help with opening up to people these days. but that's where a lot of developement could happen for him and he's already been talking more to his eggs so hopefully he can exchange that trust and honesty to missa soon. and if it takes the ender king to do it then so be it i have more faith in missa being open about things on his own accord than this guy.

honestly i think i saw a post similar to what i'm going to say but i really hope the prison kiss will push some unspoken boundary between them that makes them perhaps question some things or move forward. i'm personally any type of pissa enjoyer but i just hope they can confront each other at some point and talk about how they feel. there's a lot of potential for a very sweet story here it would be a shame if nothing ever happened with it. i know it's probably wishful thinking but hey i can dream.

also we don't really know how the server is going to look and to what extent it's going to be reset but it could be a good chance for them to hang out more if let's say some bases get yeeted or they need to gather resources. or even if the bases are untouched it feels like a good moment for less active members to join since there's been a little bit of pause. what i'm saying is missa please log on more it's really crucial to this.

WOOHOO

i do agree that Missa should get to write his own lore whether it coincides with Phil's or not, he doesn't seem to be into scripting interactions with the others he's more likely to just start playing a bit and then bouncing off that for his cubito's story (spreen's betrayal and him leaving roier's house for it, kidnapping by wolves, being in love with phil, fortnite cheese putting him in prison) overall there's no evidence missa's gonna be involved in the ender king plot in canon unless he and Phil have talked about it

definitely think having a lot of new untouched space could take most of the pressure out of just walking around and seeing everything expand so quickly and being worried about building somewhere someone might have already claimed or on someone else's grounds

canon romantic pissa is still up in the air but ccphil and missa are most definitely aware that they're playing into a traditional romantic love story, theyre gonna have to decide if it'd be better or funnier to keep pivoting around the subject and drive everyone on the island insane or to get the ball FUCKING rolling

I'm going to Have Faith that he will log on more. I'm going to Hope and Pray. Calacaland will prevail