#up next: what happens the first time someone dies and respawns in a bed

[rileyclaw]

sorry im really into this owlcraft thing and i WILL be making more comics about it

[cheapposts]

Scar wakes up and gets to live another day.

It feels so weird. So wrong. Wasn’t he supposed to die in the end? Scar is pretty sure he was. He saw it with his own eyes: every winner before him died in the end. But for some reason, Scar didn’t.

At first he was confused. Maybe there’s been some kind of mistake. Maybe he’ll drop dead any minute now. But then a day came by. Two days. A week. And no god struck him down with a lightning. Scar was becoming more and more weirded out by that. He tried taking matters in his own hands, but no amount of jumping from a cliff to his death led him to freedom. He respawned again and again, wearing the same clothes with poppies and lilacs, having the same red eyes looking back at him from the river, staring at the same shade of red his name had every time he took his communicator in his hand and typed, "Hey?", "Anybody alive?", "Hello?", because what if the reason why he’s still alive is that he’s not actually a winner yet? What if there’s another player, and all he has to do to end this is to find and kill them, or let them kill him? But he never found anyone, and two weeks after the day he won, he stopped searching.

Three weeks after the day Scar won, he already had a new house going on. He settled at the edge of the map near mesa. "Screw this," he figured, "I’m not going to just wander around the land for months if the gods forgot to kill me. I’ll do things!" And things he did. After he was done with his new house, he fixed his old base, and tore down Mumbo's tower, and built a couple of things here and there. It was nice.

The next week was spent relaxing. He tended to his crops and fed cows he’d stolen from someone (not that the person would mind; they were dead). He died once that week and woke up in his bed again, but at that point it was starting to feel normal.

Five weeks after the day Scar won, he finally had to admit that the gods were not going to kill him. That for some reason, they decided to trap him there. Or maybe that’s what their idea of a happy ending was, maybe Scar happened to become the winner of the final game, the final round, and this was his reward. Maybe all the other players have gone home. Maybe Scar’s the only one left behind, and they live on without him.

There was no use in thinking about possibilities. It was only upsetting him. No - terrifying him. Instead, he took the matters in his own hands once again, and paid a visit to The Secret Keeper.

"I don’t want that," he said to it. "If this is my reward, I don’t want it. I want to go home. To Hermitcraft. Back to my friends. Back to where they’re alive."

The Secret Keeper didn’t seem to react. Scar felt his chest heat up with rage.

"Get me out of here!" he yelled, voice wavering. "You psychos! I- I miss my cat!"

The Secret Keeper didn’t answer.

Scar went home, laid down on his bed, and spent the evening thinking about Jellie's warm fur and his friends' smiles.

Scar wakes up and gets to live another day.

[dmwrites]

(The following fic takes place during session four of the double life series)

Gem kicked at a rock and pouted. She was lonely. And bored. Lonely-bored (and yes technically she had like a million project to do, buildings to build, but that’s not the point so shush!). Pearl and Impulse were gone off-world to that Life game, and as Gem usually did every week, she just kind of waited for them to come back.

Once in a while, Grian would put up the sign up sheet for his Life games. Gem was always too busy to go for it, but Pearl and Impulse had signed up again. She knew vaguely what it was, from Pearl and Impulse explaining it to her one night over dinner- it was a death game thingie where the goal was to be the last one standing.

Gem liked to hang around while the two were gone just in case anything went awry, and so she could hear the stories when they got back. Every hermit who was in the life games had been given a special-permissions button by their respawn bed, so when they lost a life in the Life game, they could go back into the world quickly. Gem had been impressed though- neither Pearl or Impulse had appeared at their beds before the session had ended, which meant that they had lost no lives so far. Well, of course they hadn’t- they were soup group people after all, and the soup group doesn’t suck! (that was Gem’s slogan for the soup group- it hadn’t caught on yet though).

So Gem was sulking down by the bridge, talking to a sheep about how she definitely wasn’t clingy, when there was a gasp- a definitely human, definitely not Gem gasp. Gem looked around, and there was Pearl, sitting up in her bed, clutching her head and looking around wildly.

“Pearl?” Gem flew up to Pearl’s bed, which was tucked into the corner of a mushroom. The session didn’t end for another hour, which must mean…

And that’s when Gem got a good look at Pearl. She had yellow eyes now, which seemed to not see Gem standing there. Pearl seemed disoriented, slowly twisting her hand so it swiped her own back, and then pulled the hand forward to inspect it. There was nothing on her hand, though, and Pearl let out a shaky laugh. Then, she reached for the button installed next to her bed, and she was gone.

“Oh. Okay then.” Gem said out loud, mostly for the sheep’s benefit. “That must be what happens when someone dies. Did you see that, sheep? It was like she was a whole different person. Is that what she is like in the Life world? Curious.”

She made her way back to the bridge and started pacing. She couldn’t get Pearl’s face out of her head. It wasn’t… Gem’s Pearl. That was like a stranger wearing a Pearl mask. Or had she just never really paid attention?

“BDUBS!!”

A cry of anguish and terror startled her out of her thoughts like a lightning crack. Gem turned and saw Impulse at his bed right inside the entrance of the keep, grabbing onto the sides and looking all around. Gem raced over to him, but pulled up short right at the edge of the bridge. It was still too early for the session to have ended, and so the Impulse she was looking at was not the dwarf she knew. Impulse’s eyes were yellow now too, wide in what seemed to be fright. Impulse grabbed at his bed, his clothes, anything close by, breathing heavy. And then he slammed his hand flat on the button in a way that Gem could only describe as desperate, and he was gone again.

“Sheep, I think they’ve both lost a life now!” Gem whispered. She wondered if they would tell her the stories of the session when they got back like they usually did.

The session was going to be over soon, so she sat down by Impulse’s bed, waiting. She didn’t have to wait long, as with a shout, Impulse appeared in his bed again.

“Impulse!” Gem stood up to greet him properly.

And Impulse turned around to look at her for only a moment, and there was a deep red gleam in his eye now, a twitch of his hand to his belt where his axe usually was. And for the first time, Gem was scared of the man in front of her. He reeked of danger, a wild look in his eye that made her quite certain that if he had had that battle axe, it would have gone right through her skull. And then Impulse hit the button and he was gone, back to the other world. Back to whatever the hell was happening- Gem wasn’t quite so keen on knowing now.

[tinkertechy]

Have some Hermitcraft fanfic worldbuildy stuffs

Because it's on my mind, I need to Share It, but none of my normal friend groups are Hermitcraft Centric.

Context: I wrote a fanfic a couple of months ago focused on Decked Out and mysterious happenings. I didn't want to institute any sort of perma-death, but at the same time I needed to have some form of risk/danger from being in DO outside of the normal state of play, while allowing for DO to still exist as a concept. Here's what I ultimately came up with:

-Death and taking damage are not permanent, but the effects can still be felt. When a hermit reaches 3 hearts, whether from sudden or over-time damage that is not attended to, They reach a 'Catastrophic' state. It's possible to come back, but only to 75% of the overall health. Hitting Catastrophic successively removes a further 25% of the max health. This allows hermits to take lots of damage, recover, but still have consequences from taking that damage in the first place. Hermits have their health bars somewhere on their body, either embroidered in their clothes, tattooed on arms, etc...

-The sleep cycle is still important; When a Hermit 'dies' they respawn in their bed... the next morning. The time and circumstances of their death dictate how well they recover the next morning. Somone *cough*Scar*Cough* crashing into a wall at 10 in the morning will wake up the next morning with a slightly-stronger-than-normal headache. Someone falling into a pit of Zombies at 2 AM is going to feel like ground beef and need a couple days to recover. Hermits can go multiple days without sleep, but more than one usually means Phantoms. (and a few days of recovery from sleep-deprivation)

-Hermit Families are... around. Those that Hermits have repeatedly mentioned or have had involvement in Hermit Affairs such as Mrs. Tango or Doccy can show up in fics, but it's never directly stated where they are living. Probably a separate village that isn't a constant construction zone.

-'Alt' accounts exist in 3 categories of being. beings like EvilX are Class 1 Alts, capable of acting independently of their Main, if a bit more benign off-camera. Class 2 Alts are the Cam accounts; expected to have some amount of self-navigation and management, but have little-to-no- personality. Different from other alts is that Class 2s are often Allay-sized, to reduce footprint during filming. Class 3s are basically skin changes, or empty shells; they kinda just sit and stare at the wall when not in use.

...right?

[purity-town]

I have officially submitted all of my final projects! Just one more exam tomorrow and then I’m free for winter break! I’ll resume comic posting next Sunday now that I’ll finally be able to chill and draw again, but in the meantime, here are all of the ask replies I’ve been neglecting! Got the inbox cleared out again :)

In theory, only that specific color of tan-brown narration rectangles are from Andrew, but so far, he’s been the only one giving narration. So, in short- yes, all of the narration panels come from Andrew!

And for your second question, that will be discussed more in-depth in coming chapters!

AH!! Chewing!!!

(But I’m glad you’re enjoying my stuff! I have so much fun with these characters, and I love seeing other folks’ Terraria drawings too.)

Kinda? Terraria has the ability to resurrect people. It’s not an entirely pleasant process, and takes longer depending on one’s age and power, but she can do it -- the whole reason why the Dryads died out was because of how much Cthulhu/Moonlord had drained her power, to the point where she couldn’t resurrect any of them, let alone create more. Hence why a few decades past the end of the war, as she regained some strength, she created the first Guides and the Guardian of the Underworld!

(Using things like intent/strength very loosely here, as it’s hard to pin such terms to a god who’s so nebulous and a part of the world rather than something you can speak to, but they’re the best descriptors!)

It is rare for someone to “respawn,” since it has to be Terraria’s will that they do so. You can’t just jump off a cliff and wake up seconds later in bed, unharmed. But it can happen, and will be discussed in a later chapter, as Andrew himself has died before.

Thanks for reading!! And hahaha, a big reason why I chose mage for Chris was because of how fun it is to draw magic!

Really, though, I feel like I’ve learned and improved a lot over the past two years of working on this comic, so I’m glad that you enjoy the art!

Yep! I’ve doodled him wearing a skirt a couple times before, but it’s never come up in the main comic before this chapter.

Word gets around! The comic takes place in a pretty isolated region; it’s quite far out from the more settled areas and only has a few significant villages scattered throughout the various biomes in the area. So with such a low population, just about any news at all gets around quick, because everyone knows each other.

As far as that news spreading outside of that region goes, word might get out as rumor by traders or the like, but Andrew would probably be the main source of spreading that news, due to him being a Guide who’s trusted and reliable.

And “have there been people who have tried to fight it in the past and lost?” In a general sense, I’m sure there have been, but it won’t be a subject of focus in the comic. Most people who take on any sort of “adventuring” role either go into it for the money/magic items they find left by those who inhabited regions before them before such crafts were lost, or fall into a local hero role who handles things like Blood Moons. And even then, that’s mostly restricted to areas that are still mostly untamed and have ruins and similar, like the area around Purity Town; places like where Chris grew up have long-since been reclaimed for civilization.

The Eye is such an ancient, inherent part of the world that it’s hardly even thought of as a “thing” you can target. What Chris did is...kind of crazy, and a show of raw, unfocused power. But Andrew is specifically drawing him down this path, trying to help Chris reign in his abilities over time and grow.

He’s had that hair tie since his very first appearance! As for where it came from…Chris is the sort to very rarely buy things for himself over others, but is from an area on the sea that often saw trader ships come through, so it was probably either a small gift from someone else or a special treat for himself. And hey, a pretty-colored hair tie that can keep hair like Chris’ in check (mostly) and doesn’t break or stretch out is a fantastical thing!

The actual explanation for why they haven’t shown up yet is that I either don’t have a good design for them or don’t have the time/energy to add them -- a lot of stuff gets cut, and NPCs that I wanted to sneak into backgrounds while characters are in-town don’t make it in. The tavernkeep falls into the first category (I just don’t have a design for him), while the merchant falls into the second one.

I definitely want to add more of the other NPCs into the story! It’s just difficult to do so, sometimes.

It wasn’t a part of the original script, but I’ve had a bunch of ideas for it, and so I was thinking of sneaking in a little chapter 6.5 aether interlude! Either that or bundling it up into the start of chapter 7, depending on how chapter lengths work out. It won’t be a huge thing, but I do want to include it!

It’s hard to measure the time it takes, honestly. I find it very difficult to sit and work on Purity Town for longer stints without getting distracted; I’m often either understimulated or overstimulated and either one destroys my ability to focus and draw. With all of my schoolwork I tend to be very tired by the end of the week and want to just chill, which doesn’t help much. This isn’t a complaint, to be clear! I love working on Purity Town. It’s just difficult to do sometimes, and that makes things take a lot longer than they “should.”

I tend to have Saturdays be my “off” days, where most other days I have chores and school and homework, and so all of my drawing really takes place on Saturdays, and I do use most of the day to do it. But again, because I can’t stay focused on drawing for long and get distracted by other things easily, it’s hard to measure anything for certain.

All of his theories are founded at least to some extent in reality! Malik and Andrew have some history and have known each other long enough for Malik to pick up on those sorts of things; he’s quite perceptive.

None of them are explicitly correct, but he’s not entirely off!

Thank you for these kind messages!!! I really love getting to share all my Terraria ideas and it makes me super happy that other folks enjoy my comic too. I don’t have much more of a coherent reply, but this makes me really happy to see!

Thanks for reading!! I’m glad you’re liking it so far!

[pixiemage]

[A work-in-progress Renchanting time travel fic that I may never finish but wanted to share anyway...]

When he died at Scar’s hands, Martyn had thought that would be it. He had thought it would be over, that the game of death and betrayal and chaos he had been trapped in for weeks would finally be over. He had thought - perhaps foolishly so - that when he lost his last life and entered spectator mode, all he would have to was wait until someone was crowned the victor before everyone would respawn in the server hub and things would go back to normal.

It was all a game after all, wasn’t it?

True, there were alliances and battles and deaths on all sides, but amidst it all there was laughter and jokes and the occasional poorly-kept secret that another player pretended not to hear for the sake of continuing a bit of roleplaying. There were moments in-between sieges when Martyn would run into Grian or Jimmy or Cleo out alone in the wild, and instead of taking up arms and starting a fight, they’d chat about something funny that had happened the day before, or jokingly vent about how chaotic their partner was, or ask if he planned on signing up for the next MCC Tournament. Grian would follow Scar’s every whim only to dramatically whisper warnings to everyone not to trust him the moment Scar’s back was turned, and Scar would pretend he hadn’t heard a thing even though everyone knew he was fully aware of Grian’s antics. And then Martyn and Big B would make jokes about “saving” Grian from Scar’s clutches, and they’d all share a laugh, and the next time they crossed paths they’d be raring to fight again.

It was all a game.

It was just a game.

…wasn’t it?

But then Martyn died, lost his final life, and instead of respawning in spectator mode he found himself smothered in nothingness, darkness pressing in on all sides and voices whispering in his ears. They spoke of failure, of unworthy victory, of things going wrong, of plans being torn asunder. They spoke of fixing things and making things right and rewriting and repairing and changing it all–

By the time the voices had risen to unbearable levels, Martyn was jerking back to awareness with a sharp gasp, his lungs burning and his head pounding as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Martyn? Man, you alright?”

Martyn jolted at the voice and his eyes landed on Ren, whose face was hovering in front of his and whose expression was one of concern. There was something off about his appearance, though Martyn couldn’t couldn’t quite put his finger on what. There was darkness behind his head, stars painting the canvas of the night sky, and it was only now that Martyn felt the hands that were gripping his arms and keeping him upright. Ren was keeping him upright.

“I–”

“C’mon, down here,” Ren interrupted, his words rushed, and he was dragging Martyn down belowground before he could really protest. (Not that he thought he would have been able to even if he wanted to, his thoughts still too jumbled to think straight let alone speak.) “We can wait out the phantoms for a bit.”

There was digging, and water, and the placement of torches and blocks, and then Ren was pushing him down to sit on a block of solid stone. Martyn blinked away some of the fuzziness from his eyes and looked around - and he went stiff.

He knew this place. He knew it, but it…it was wrong. This was wrong. He hadn’t seen it like this since the first days on the server, since the first day he–

Martyn felt as though all the air had been knocked from his lungs.

He hadn’t seen it like this since the day he first met Ren. The small cave was familiar but still untouched, the walls natural and the floor partially flooded with water. It held none of the things that had eventually turned it into their safe haven below Dogwarts, no villagers and no storage and no beds and no door. A small dirt staircase led back to the surface from which they’d come, and he was sure if he set foot aboveground he’d find himself staring at the very beginnings of Renchanting.

It wasn’t even called Renchanting yet, back then, he reminded himself, and he had to close his eyes and take a few slow, shaking breaths to keep himself from going into a complete panic. He felt as if he was going insane. It wouldn’t be the first time he had time travelled, but Evo was years ago by now–

“...Martyn?”

Martyn’s eyes flew open and he found Ren watching him from across the little cavern, looking more concerned than he had been outside. (He realized now what was so off about Ren’s appearance. The grayed skin and crimson eyes and bloodied crown he had grown so used to were missing, replaced by the lively and colorful complexion and attire that Ren had long since abandoned back when his name had gone red by Martyn’s hand.) Ren was still watching him, growing ever more concerned, so Martyn rushed to find a response.

“Y-Yeah boss?”The confused look that flashed across Ren’s face for a second made Martyn want to slam his head against a wall. Shit. Shit. That nickname wasn’t even accurate yet. They’d only just met, hadn’t they? Martyn had just finished sneaking in some enchantments on his gear and Ren had just appeared out of the forest with phantoms on his tail, and both of them had just run for cover together despite having just met. There was no friendship here, not yet, only friendly acquaintanceship and maybe a short-term alliance for the sake of survival through the night. Ren wasn’t his friend, his boss, his king, his…anything. The thought made his throat go tight and he looked away, unsure how to go forward without a basis for how to act around someone who now saw him as little more than a stranger.

(...)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Totally incomplete, obviously, but there was a prompt I found online (which I won't drop here in case I DO continue this and I don't want to drop spoilers just yet) and I got kind of inspired. Soooo here's a thing! (Also at this point in time I HAVE NOT finished watching 3rd Life, I just know some of the later plot points that happen. Nobody has fully died yet where I'm at and I'm trying to avoid what spoilers I can until I can rush to the ending, but hey, some deaths still slipped through the cracks lol.)

[helliontherapscallion]

What is Real? (Adrenaline Junkie Part 4)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: PTSD, memory loss, swearing, angst, panic attack

Word count: 3,509

You opened your eyes to the dim sunlight pouring through your curtains. You tried to move your arms to push yourself up, but strangely your right arm felt incredibly stiff. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you looked down at it. Nothing was off about it, so why was it so stiff? It made no sense. 

With great difficulty, you slowly maneuvered your legs over the side of your bed. Everything felt incredibly stiff, especially your right wing, and your head felt like it was filled to the brim with cotton. Groaning, you heaved yourself off the bed into a standing position. You wobbled slightly on your feet, but you steadied yourself with your nightstand. What was with you today?

Hobbling out of your room with a steadying hand on the wall. You let your wings thump and drag across the ground behind you. You didn’t have the energy to hold them up and your right one felt very off. You should ask Philza to brew you a potion of healing and maybe ask him why you woke up like this. Were you in for a really bad molt?

Stumbling your way down the hallway and dragging your feet, you almost fell over a couple of times. The stairs were going to be a massive pain if you could barely walk down the hall. Your body lurched forward as your foot caught the edge of a rug. You yelped as the ground quickly met your face, your arms not cooperating when you tried to move them to catch yourself. 

Feeling a stabbing pain in your nose, you laid there for a little bit hearing the door next to you swing open. Without looking at him, your scratchy, muffled voice called out.

“Wilby, thank god you’re here. Can you help me up? My legs aren’t working today for whatever reason. I think I’m gonna molt soon.”

He gently pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, smooshing your face into his shoulder. You pulled away slightly to look up at him. He was smiling widely at you and his face looked blotchy. Wilbur never cried in front of anyone, so naturally you were incredibly worried for your older brother.

“Wil, are you crying?”

He just pulled you into another tight hug. Hissing in discomfort, you felt him push on your sore muscles.

“Wil, as much as I love you, can you please let me go? Everything feels really sore.”

He pulled away again, giving you a little confused smile. “I’m so sorry, do you want me to take you downstairs? We can get Dad to make you a potion.”

You returned his smile. “I’d appreciate that. But can you carry me? I don’t wanna move anymore.”

“Of course.”

Chuckling, he turned around and crouched gesturing for you to get on his back. A few unsteady moments later, you were successfully on Wilbur’s back and started your much quicker journey downstairs. You rested your cheek on his back and hummed in content. You found comfort in hearing his heartbeat, even if it was beating faster than usual. 

Quickly reaching the couch, he gingerly put you down on it and made sure you didn’t lay on top of your wings. They sprawled behind you over the back of the couch. 

“Stay right here, I’m going to get Dad.”

He walked outside with large strides, leaving you by yourself in the living room. You closed your eyes and pondered why today was so strange. First, you couldn’t move this morning. Second, Wilbur, your collected older brother, was crying. Third, Philza was up and outside. Usually he’s basically unresponsive in the mornings. He would never be up and about this early. 

Opening your eyes when you heard hurried footsteps rushing toward you. Why’d you get déjà vu? Why did you feel so… so scared? Your panicked eyes landed on your dad running towards you with all your brothers following suit. You relaxed seeing your family. But why did they look at you with relief and tears in their eyes? Even Technoblade looked relieved. 

Philza landed on his knees next to the couch before placing a gentle hand on your cheek. His worried blue eyes scanned you and he stared at you with a gentle smile.

“...Hey hun, how are ya feelin’?”

“I’ve had better days. I just feel really stiff, I think I’m going to have a bad molt this year.”

Your brothers looked at each other with confusion. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, Philza crinkled his brows. “Hun, do you not remember what happened? You-”

Tommy interrupted, “You died. SOMETHING KILLED YOU AND YOU RESPAWNED. HOW DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THAT?”

Flinching back, you deadpanned. “Gremlin, I think I’d remember if I lost one of my lives. My entire body feels like shit, but I sure as hell didn’t die. That’s just absurd.”

Philza gently grabbed your wrist and pulled down your sleeve. Instead of the usual three red hearts that were etched into your skin, only two stared back at you. You stuttered as your brain processed what you saw. You... died? How? Why couldn’t you remember your own death? 

Your thoughts were interrupted as Philza spoke up. “You died, (y/n).”

“I… How?”

Philza pursed his lips together. “You were killed by The Warden. You were out mining.”

You looked at your hands. “Who’s The Warden?”

“It’s a mob that usually spawns in subterranean caves. We’re not exactly sure how you died, but… but you died down there, (y/n). You lost a life.”

You took in a shuddering breath. How could you be so damn careless? Were you falling back into your dangerous stunts phase? Did you get yourself killed? Why couldn’t you remember anything?

“Hun, do you want me to get you a potion for the stiffness?”

“...Yes please.” 

“Tommy, can you please go get them a potion of healing? WIlbur, can you get a glass of water for them?”

Without a word, Tommy and WIlbur ran out of the room, leaving you with Philza and Techno. The piglin hybrid wouldn’t even look at you. Philza ran a comforting hand through your hair as he waited for your brothers to return. 

When they came back, Wilbur helped prop you up so you could drink the potion and water. They soothed your scratchy throat and you felt your body fill up with warmth. It was always nice to drink a healing potion when you were hurt. Most of the stiffness and soreness that was previously rooted deep in your muscles was alleviated and you felt some of your nerves melt away. Now only your right wing was sore. You stretched, feeling a tugging sensation on the skin of your back around the base of your right wing. 

“That’s better. I think I’m going to go shower, I feel absolutely disgusting.”

Not giving your worried family any room to argue with you, you swung your legs over the side of the couch and shakily stood up. Philza tried to help steady you, but you wove him off. If you were weak enough to die, you thought, you needed to prove yourself to your family that you were strong. You needed to do things yourself. 

As you were shakily making your way up the stairs, Philza was following you, probably making sure you don’t kill yourself again. He was fussing over your wellbeing, you did just die and you were acting surprisingly calm about it.

“At least let me help you preen your wing.”

“Dad, I can preen my own wings. I’m 17.”

“I know hun. I just want to help you.”

“Dad. I can do it myself, I’ve been doing it alone since I was 10, and I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.”

Without giving him any more room to try to convince you, you closed the bathroom door in his face. You understood and appreciated that he was worried about you, but you needed to do things on your own if you were going to prove your strength to your family. You were angry that he thought you couldn’t do a simple thing by yourself. You could still hear him breathing from the other side of the door.

Peeling off your jacket, you ran your fingers along your left wing. The feathers were more out of place than usual, you must’ve gotten pretty fucked up by The Warden if they were this messy. After about 10 minutes of frustrated preening, you twisted your torso around slightly to reach for your other wing, but you couldn’t see anything. Why couldn’t you see anything? Your wings were large enough for you to completely wrap your body in them twice and then some, so it didn’t make sense to you. 

Turning around to face the wall across the bathroom mirror, you spread out your wings and craned your head around to look at your right wing. Your eyes were met with a featherless nub that matched your skin tone. An ugly, discolored scar covered the entirety of the right side of your back. Without warning, memories flashed in front of your eyes at rapid fire.

A monsterous being towered over you, standing completely still. You held your breath as it just stood there. It walked away so you started to walk away. Everything lit up as you started to run from the thing chasing you. Blood pounded in your ears as panic engulfed your entire being as you tried to fly away, but you were caught. It effortlessly swung you around as it screamed. You felt your wing rip from your body and you flew across the cave. You couldn’t breathe. What did you do to deserve this?

“../n).”

You reached around to feel your wing, but you only grabbed the bone sticking out of your body. You felt anguish as you realized that you just lost a limb. You watched it drag your wing into the depths of the cave, leaving you completely and utterly alone as you slowly died.

“...(y/n)..”

You were crying in pain as you felt everything that happened crash down on you all at once. You laid there for what felt like hours as you sobbed and dry heaved. You prayed to whatever god was above that you would be put out of your misery soon. You felt as your body slowly got colder and colder. You were drifting in and out of consciousness. You couldn’t breathe. Please, for the love of god, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it sto-

“(Y/N).”

You saw a hazy figure in front of you. You felt someone’s hands gripping your shoulders in a firm grasp, you thrashed about trying to get out of it’s grip. You saw the monster that took your wing from you. The thing that killed you. You threw your arms about blindly in a desperate attempt to land a hit to try and get it to let you go. The only reason it let you go in the cave was when your wing was torn off, was it going to take your arms too?

You felt a smack as your hand collided with what you guessed was its grotesque face. It yelped and jumped back, releasing its grip on you. Its yelp strangely sounded like your dad’s voice. Your mind was probably playing tricks on you, your dad wasn’t here. You needed to get out. You scrambled up to your feet and bolted. You weren’t going to get killed again, especially by that thing. 

“(Y/N)!”

How did it know your name? More importantly, how was it talking to you? You were probably still in the cave bleeding out as your delirious mind turned stone into the comforting walls of your home. You were probably imagining hearing your dad’s voice in a last chance to comfort yourself as you neared your impending doom. 

Running down the hall, you made your way to the stairs. You couldn’t jump over the banister, you would probably break your legs again without both of your wings. Your vision was tunneling as you only focused on how to get out and away from the monster. When you were halfway down the stairs, you saw Tommy sprinting up to you looking panicked. No one deserves to die in the way you did, especially not him. 

“Oh my god, Tommy we need to get you out of here, it’s coming for us.”

He grabbed your shoulders and bent over to look you in the eye, “(y/n), whatever you’re seeing is not real, you-”

“We need to go now!”

He was cut off as you grabbed his hand and drug him down the stairs. You could hear the thing coming closer. It started to come towards you and Tommy. You yanked him along with you as you reached the living room and sprinted towards the front door. You could taste the freedom. It tasted sweet. 

Right as you grasped the door handle, you felt Tommy wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back. What the fuck, did he want to die?

“Tommy, if you don’t let me go now, it’s gonna get us. Please, you don’t wanna die the way I did.”

He said nothing as he turned you around and blocked the doorway with his body. The monster turned the corner and entered your sights. You’d be damned if you let Tommy die. You were determined to protect him even if you ended up dying a second time. 

You puffed up your wing and shifted your body into a stance that you hoped was threatening. Pushing Tommy behind you and shielding him with your wing, you harshly glared at it.

“You fucking bastard, ya here for seconds? Was my wing not enough for you? Well, I’ve got bad news for ya, I won’t let you kill me again. I won’t let you near my brother.”

“(Y/n), it’s me,” it croaked out in your dad’s voice and started to slowly walk towards you, holding its arms up. Why wasn’t it shambling like it did in the cave? You felt more fear well up in your gut as you stepped back.

“You’ve got a lotta audacity to use my father’s voice against me. I’ll rip you to shreds if you step any closer to us. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”

It stepped back, it’s mouth impossibly frowning more as more drool pooled from its mouth. Tommy wrapped his arms around yours as he bound you to his chest. Thrashing, you desperately tried to get out of his hold.

“TOMMY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? DO YOU WANT TO DIE? THAT THING IS RUTHLESS, IT WILL TEAR YOU APART LIMB BY LIMB JUST LIKE IT DID TO ME. DO YOU WANT THAT?”

He once again said nothing. You felt your hair on the top of your head start to dampen. You heard more footsteps running to you. Techno and Wilbur appeared behind the monster. They looked absolutely terrified. Were you going to watch your older brothers die?

Your chest heaved as you looked at them with wide eyes. “Tech, Wil please, for the love of god run while you still can. It’s in front of you.”

They glanced at each other before Wilbur grabbed the monster’s arm. You screamed in horror as it looked at him. To your confusion, Wilbur wasn’t grabbed. He just gently led the monster away into the kitchen.

“I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU TOUCH A SINGLE HAIR ON HIS HEAD, YOU’LL MEET A FATE WORSE THAN MINE. I WILL MAKE SURE YOU SUFFER MORE THAN I DID, YOU GODDAMNED FREAK.”

Your hoarse screaming was interrupted as Tommy squeezed you against his chest tighter. Techno slowly approached you, making sure that you saw his every move, and bent over to look you in the eye. Tommy’s arms tightened around you, scared that you were going to lash out at Technoblade.

“(Y/n), The Warden isn’t here. You’re home, you’re not in the cave. You’re safe.”

You studied his face. Was he even real? Was any of this real? He looked real. Then again, everything around you looked real.

“I… Tech, are-are you real? Is any of this real?”

Techno pulled you out of Tommy’s arms and pulled you into his own tight embrace. He pressed a hand on the back of your head and pushed your face into his shoulder, rocking you back and forth. Your forehead tickled where you felt the end of his braid brush against your skin. You started to sob into his chest.

“Tech, I was so scared. I… I thought I was gonna die again. Please don’t let me die.”

“The Warden isn’t here, (y/n). I’m real. The house is real. You are home. No one else is here besides Dad, Wilbur, Tommy, me, and you. You’re safe. We won’t let you die again.”

He repeated the same things over like a mantra. With each reassurance, you felt yourself calm down. Techno’s soothing, monotone voice gave you something that wasn’t too overstimulating to center your focus on. You cried until you didn’t have any tears left to cry. Even after you were done crying, Techno continued to rock you back and forth, caressing your hair on the crown of your head like he did when you were kids. 

The voices in his head have been screaming at him nonstop since he saw that they had lost a life earlier in the day. They were telling him that he was stupid for letting you go mining alone. That he was a failure for letting you die alone. He couldn’t hear his own thoughts. He could only attempt to comfort you while trying to ignore the voices.

Tommy stood stiff at the door watching you two. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. His older sibling was always calm and collected. He’s never seen you react like that. He’s never seen you so terrified. You were always the one to comfort him, never the other way around. You were there to give him hugs when he scraped his knee as a child. You were there when he’d have nightmares. You always made sure that he was alright. He was truly stumped.

Meanwhile in the dining room, Philza sat at the head of the table staring blankly at his folded hands placed in his lap. Wilbur had pulled up a chair to sit next to him, rubbing his back in small circles. The two didn’t speak to each other. Instead, they were listening to your heartbreaking sobs as Techno’s deep voice rumbled lowly underneath your sobbing. 

Wilbur didn’t know how to comfort his dad. Hell, he didn’t know how to comfort himself. His little sibling just died, forgot about it, and remembered it in the span of six short hours. Your death must’ve been traumatizing if you were reliving it. He didn’t know how to comfort you, he always was the one, besides Philza, to comfort you when you were upset as a kid. He felt completely lost.

Philza remembered how he felt his heart drop when he heard you start to scream from the other side of the bathroom door. The instinct to comfort his child overpowered his rational thought as he opened the door. He found you curled in on yourself on the ground with your only wing tightly wrapped around you mid panic attack. He asked you multiple times if it was alright to touch you, but you never responded. You just kept your eyes screwed shut. He was crouched in front of you trying to get you out of your trance before he decided to put his hands on your shoulders. That made you finally open your eyes. He tried to give you a smile, but you started to flail your arms. He dodged the best he could, but your movements were too erratic and you ended up smacking him across the face.

He felt so scared for you when you ran away from him in a panic. He thought you were going to hurt yourself when you reached the stairs. He felt like someone tore his heart out and stomped on it when he realized that you were afraid of him. You saw him as your murderer. When you started to threaten him, he saw just how terrified you were of dying again. How terrified you were of him killing you. You didn’t react when tears started to slip down his cheeks. He didn’t care that you were threatening him, he cared that his own child was terrified of him.

At the moment, you were slowly fading out of consciousness in your brother's hold. You felt completely drained physically, emotionally, and mentally. You barely registered Techno picking you up and carrying you up the stairs to your room, laying you on your bed. He even covered your wing with your blanket.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added to the series taglist): @acecarddraws   @goldenstarofthunderclan  @ravennightingaleandavatempus @dirtydiavolo  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity @bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @camisascam  @yeiras-world  @jayistrash  

[archetypal-archivist]

Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone

So this builds off of the whole "Tommy has somehow found himself on Hermitcraft after the exile arc" thing that got really popular with @redorich and @petrichormeraki on tumblr. Basically it's an excuse to give Tommy therapy and 20+ parent figures. One thing that's a common thread in those stories is that Tommy is shocked that Hermitcraft has infinite respawns and all of the hermits are quick to reassure him that he really won't perma-die in their world. And I had the thought- well, what if he wasn't in their world anymore? And thus came forth 1500+ words of angst~

It begins like this. Evil X is stuck in the void, alone and with no one to talk to. He misses daylight, he misses touch, he misses hearing voices other than his own. One day, he sees something get shot through the void as if by slingshot, leaving a trail of code in its wake, tethering the whatever it is back the way it came. This is Tommy, and while he begins to get adjusted to Hermitcraft and company, Evil X watches as the string of code begins to imprint itself into the void, and eventually learns that he can interact with it, albeit only on the most superficial of levels. On Tommy's end, he slowly begins to heal from his time spent in the war zone that is the Dream SMP, making fast friends with Grian and several of the other hermits in the process. He goes pranking with his newest, winged older brother figure, laughs at the antics of Impulse, Tango, and Zedaph, builds a cobblestone tower with BDubs, etc. But for all that he's healing, such a process isn't linear. No one on the server can truly understand just what sort of stuff he has been through, and so he often finds himself alone, trying to deal with his wildest emotions by talking to himself.

One day, however, a little voice in his head starts talking back. It's rough and gravelly and not very nice at first, but it's faint enough that he chalks it up to his imagination and moves on with his life. He follows Stress around like a duckling for a day, plays squire for Welsknight, and has a roaring panic attack after an unfortunate spar with False leads to him getting flashbacks to the Pit with Technoblade. He retreats back to his tower for a good cry, and in the midst of his tears, he hears the voice again. This time it's a bit nicer, sounding unsure and a bit panicky as it tries to encourage him to stop crying, god this is awkward, kid, it'll be fine. Wait, are you a kid? You seem tall for a munchkin.

This time, Tommy knows that it isn't his imagination, but half of his old server seemed to have voices in their heads so he really isn't all that alarmed that he seemed to have developed one of his own too. And he does something that no one else does when Evil X reaches out- he starts talking back. It's rough going, at first, especially since both of them have abrasive personalities, but eventually they settle into a rough estimation of friendship that means more to them then they are willing to say. From Evil X's perspective, this is the first time someone has actually listened to him and hasn't been turned away by his violent streak, his bad manners, and lack of proper social skills. For Tommy, this is a chance to vent to someone who seems to understand his pain. It helps that neither of them are inclined to ask too many questions. Tommy, on his part, has no clue that Evil X is an actual person and not a voice in his head, while Evil X can't bring himself to ask why Tommy has left a trail of code in the void and why it's all so glitched. He especially fears asking about the perma-death clause that seems to naturally have occurred in his code.

He will come to regret this choice.

The day is like any other, at first. He begins his day with a slice of sweet melon and then flies off to whatever hermits are awake at the time to "share a meal with them." Really, it started as an excuse to make sure that Tommy was eating at least one meal day, even in his most dissociative of states, but has since turned into an opportunity to eat weird things in front of people to see their reactions. (Etho is his favorite. He's always up early and half the time, asks to try a bite of whatever Tommy is having. They both agree that spider eyes taste a lot like sour boba.) From there it's off to the shopping district to restock his dirt shop and claim his share of the profits from the hole-digging service he runs with Grian. After that, there's just enough time to complete an order or two and collect more cobble and dirt before he has to meet up with Grian to go on their biweekly End Busting session. The two usually have a lot of fun as they go about it, Tommy jokingly shoving Grian off the platform only for his adopted brother to catch himself and fly up to join him on the narrow platform spanning the emptiness once again. Every once in a while, Grian mock-threatens to do the same in return, but he knows better than to actually attempt it after he did it once and had had to catch Tommy when he started screaming and even after they had gotten back to solid ground, he wouldn't stop for the better part of half an hour.

On habits die hard, after all. Tommy may have been told time and time again by everyone on the server that infinite respawns are a thing, yes really, but he still has a hard time believing it. He actually has a rather insane number of levels racked up- even more than Xisuma, which is impressive- because in all the months that he has been on Hermitcraft, he hasn't died once. It's a combination of survival skills taught to him by Philza and his own paranoia which has kept him alive for so long, and most of the hermits agree that it is rather impressive, if not entirely healthy for him to be so scared of dying. (Doc once offered to kill him as evidence that yes, it really is safe here and you will respawn, but for all that death by crazy redstone machine might of been cool, Tommy took a hard pass on that. Grian low key took exception to Doc offering to kill his adopted little brother, really man? Not cool.)

Anyway, Grian and Tommy meet up in the End and start off bridging with the insane amount of cobble that Tommy has stored up. Usually Tommy is in front, placing the stones, and Grian is in back, watching out for any sign of a slip up, but this time they decide to switch it up a bit, head in a new direction, play around with who's doing what this time. It ends... poorly. They bridge out into the black, on and on and on, farther into the void than they ever have before. Slowly, the islands of floating white stone stop appearing with such frequency, but they become larger in size and stranger in shape. Every once in a while Grian will see what he swears to be a glowing white mountain of Endstone in the distance, although Tommy calls bullshit each and every time. They chalk it all up to bad luck and going nuts from boredom, but really, neither one of them knows how to quit while they're ahead. As the islands disappear altogether and all that remains to orient themselves is the tenuous lifeline of cobblestone beneath their feet, the unthinkable happens.

Grian slips. And Tommy, taught compassion by the very world that will now kill him, reaches out to save him.

For one, brief moment, the two brothers clasp hands- and then Grian's weight pulls Tommy right over the edge and down, down, down into the void below.

Grian fell out of the world.

Tommy fell out of the world... and into a new one.

----

Xisuma wakes up late that day. He's been doing that a lot, if he's honest, given how late he's staying up most nights finishing up builds and the like. Those hours of sleep have to come from somewhere, after all, and he's far from an early bird. He gives into the impulse to relax a bit, drinking some tea sweetened with just enough honey to rot his teeth, and then heads off to his computer room to start up his duties as admin for the day. It's the red lights that alert him to something being wrong, and at first, he thinks it's just one of hermits' cam accounts being buggy again. Perhaps it got shut off while the hermit was bridging through the void and the hermit in question simply hadn't retrieved it yet? But who would name their cam account Tommyinnit? The looming dread sits cold in his gut as he flicks his fingers to open up his admin panel... Best to check, just in case.

The death messages are clear enough- Keralis had just perished to a ravager yesterday, likely Tango's from Decked Out if he had to guess. Zedaph had been slain by a piglin twenty minutes ago. And Grian and Tommy had fallen into the void. But if that were the case... why had only one of them respawned?

On Grian's part, he comes to with a lingering chill deep in his bones and an awful headache. The bed underneath him is warm and the sheets are a soft rosy color, likely one of the ones in Scar's magical village if the persistent smell of spruce is anything to go by. He winces against the light filtering through the window and turns to the side, squinting at where Tommy had placed his blue bed right next to his, apology on his lips for his stupid mistake. The sheets are undisturbed. Huh. That's weird, he could have sworn that he and Tommy had set their respawn points at the same time. Maybe Tommy had just forgotten and he was back in his base or at spawn? Grian rises to his feet slowly, giving his body time to adjust to the colors and sounds of the Overworld, then flaps his wings and takes off to go looking for his Tommy.

He doesn't find him.

---

The reactions to Tommy's "death" are many and varied, although for the most part, the hermits are split into two camps- those that think Tommy is gone for good, and those that think he may still be out there somewhere. For the first few days of Tommy's disappearance, most everyone is in the latter camp. Xisuma spends hours upon hours scanning the code, becoming increasingly more frazzled and terrified as his lack of sleep gets to him. Tango and Doc join him in the endeavor, although none of them have any luck or are able to spot the piece of code that caused the problem. No additions, no changes to the text, nothing. Grian leads the other team, those who set out on foot and one wing and with pick in hand to scour the world for their youngest charge, taken from them too soon. They begin in a grid pattern, setting out in ones and twos to search the whole world, but as the distance increases, the neat, orderly flyovers turn into frenzied boosting as panic starts to get the better of them. Some of them hold onto their composure better than others, but Grian ends up flying over the same patch of forest three times because he can't see for his tears. False, Impulse, Welsknight, and Beef cross the Nether, fighting their way into Bastion after Bastion and leaving Nether portals in their wake. In their tracks comes the fliers- Grian, Ren, Iskall, and BDubs. Each one takes a portal and does a sweep through the corresponding patch of Overworld before picking a direction to continue the search. Cubfan, iJevin, and Scar take to the seas, Mumbo, Stress, xB, and Zedaph to the End, Etho down into the depths of the caves below. Strangely enough, there are a few hermits who don't join the search- Keralis, who got the unlucky task of taking care of Xisuma and the others searching through the code, Tinfoilchef, who doesn't provide a reason but everyone gives him a pass because of his age, and Joe Hills and Zombie Cleo, who refuse to explain themselves.

Eventually, the searches dry up. Eventually, some of the hermits admit defeat. Hundreds of thousands of blocks out from spawn, down to the bedrock below, beneath sea and sky and every place that lacks the sun. How far is too far? For Xisuma, enough is enough. Tommy is dead. The search is over.

He stops looking. And soon, others do the same.

And the tone of the server... shifts.

For the first time that any of them can remember, a person has perma-died. Sure, they've all heard the rumors, of servers where infinite respawns is not the norm, of servers where the world glitched and a creeper is supercharged enough to damage a player down to their code. But they'd never thought that one of their own would be on the receiving end of such a curse. And to the hermits, the possibility of dying themselves suddenly becomes all too real. The constant flying is the first to go, and for those that insist on it anyway (outside of Grian, who has wings), checking the elytras' durability becomes more than just a habit. Eating spider eyes and other junk is out of the question, now it's golden apples or nothing. The Nether is all but abandoned, as is the End, and everyone on the server either groups up so that they are never alone, or retreats into their bases, becoming true hermits befitting of their server's name.

The joy that had once been so characteristic of the server is gone, and in the hearts of all, there lingers the dread that any one of them might be next- although, there are still those that hold on to hope that Tommy may not be as gone as he seems.

---

The hermits who think Tommy is dead for good and have stopped searching: Doc, Etho, Xisuma, Welsknight, Grian, BDubs, Cubfan, TinfoilChef, Stress, False, Iskall.

The hermits who think Tommy is still out there, alive if still missing, and that the search should continue: Keralis, Mumbo, Tango, Vintage Beef, Impulse, Zedaph, Joe Hills, Zombie Cleo, Scar, Rendog, xB.

Doc and Etho are old. They don't like to admit it, but they've been around since the beginning, back when players were first learning how to jump servers and communicator technology was undergoing its first upgrade. They've seen a lot and know well by now that dead is dead. Tommy is dead. All that is left to do is mourn and move on, and they have shed their tears already. Call them cold for it, but in the face of a kind of drive that can keep a man going after his entire server has burnt down around his ears (Mindcrack will be missed), they know they need to keep moving forward. There are enough broken messes on the server these days, and it is through their efforts that shops remain stocked and the torches don't burn out. They hold onto normalcy with an iron grip and hope that some day, the rest of the hermits will join them in rationality.

Stress too has a comparatively healthy approach to all of this. She doesn't want it to be true, god no, but so far everything is pointing in the direction of Tommy being dead for good. She eats a couple dozen bowls of ice cream, has a some good cries, doesn't leave her base for a week, and even afterwards she can't bring herself to wear pink for a while. But she's mourning. She's accepted things. She lets her heart break, and as time passes, she lets herself heal. And that's enough for her.

Scar is of the opinion that Tommy is still out there, and while he clings to that hope with all his might, it's fragile and Cub just knows that his best friend is going to be cut to pieces when that hope inevitably breaks. So he takes Scar aside for a quiet conversation, to break his heart before the world can break it for him. Afterwards, Scar stops talking about Tommy as if he's coming back, but his smile is never as bright as it was before. And Cub's heart breaks too.

Team ZIT swings the exact opposite way as the rest and are firmly of the belief that permadeath is impossible and thus Tommy must be alive. The three of them aren’t known for their impulse control at the best of times, and with so many hermits having given up, the trio is rightfully vicious about the fact that the others, in their eyes, have abandoned their friend. Zedaph, Impulse, and Tango all kind of feed into one another and start doing lots of dangerous stunts, as if daring the universe to permakill them and prove them wrong. If one of them does something, the other two join in and escalate things, which gets impossibly dangerous very, very fast. Tango is furious, Impulse is bitter, and Zedaph is straight up heartbroken that his other friends would give up on another of their number. They do things like fly incredibly high, go cliff jumping in the Nether only to catch themselves at the last minute, and sprint across the End bridges. If they have doubts, they never voice them. Even when Tango feels like he’s burning up from the inside and wonders at his newfound hate. Even when Impulse is utterly terrified but goes along with things anyway because Tango is doing it and he can’t bear to leave a friend alone. Even when Zedaph looks at his friends and can’t help but feel scared of and for these strangers wearing the faces he knows so well. Even then.

Team ZIT often gets dragged into and starts lots of screaming fights with the other hermits who believe Tommy is dead, especially Doc, BDubs, xB, and False. False especially gets vicious, as while pvp is no longer permitted on the server, her tongue is as sharp as any blade. She believes firmly that the others are trampling on Tommy’s memory by insisting that he isn’t dead and she is determined to make them stop. And if they refuse to give up their foolishness? Well, all she might have left is her words but with them she will make them bleed.

xB and Vintage Beef are as close to neutral as you are going to get from those that get into regular arguments. xB thinks Tommy is dead until proven otherwise, while Beef thinks the exact reverse. As some of the more chill hermits, they often get dragged in to play negotiator so that the fights don’t turn physical. And some days, when someone says something particularly hurtful, they’ll close themselves up in one of xB’s bunkers and drink until they can no longer remember why they ought to be enemies. It’s hardly healthy, but they both agree that it’s better this way. Better to forget than to hurt, after all.

Grian is… somewhat the same. Sort of. He was traumatized by Tommy, the boy he adopted as his little brother, dying before his eyes, and he can’t help but blame himself. That is, when he can remember that Tommy is dead at all. After the fall, Grian’s mind was badly broken and he couldn’t accept that his little brother was dead for the longest time. He fell into two weeks of deep depression, barely eating or drinking, and eventually Iskall came and took care of him when he realized that he hadn’t seen his buddy in ages. Iskall nursed Grian back to health, only to feel his heart shatter in his breast when Grian turned to him, eyes feverishly bright and tone childlike, asking where Tommy was. The winged man’s mind couldn’t cope with the loss so it had shut down entirely, making him forget the tragedy that had occured. Iskall had deflected then, frantically trying to figure out what to say, but after a few days of Grian wandering about in a dreamlike state, his memory came back to him and he collapsed in on himself once more. The winged hermit is now locked in a loop of this, while poor Iskall is stuck trying to keep his friend alive and relatively sane.

Iskall, for his part, thinks Tommy is well and truly dead. In part because of his own certainty, in part because anything else would be even crueler for Grian. He doesn’t resent his friend for his break downs, just quietly bundles him up and clutches him close, coaxing him to eat and bathe, to put down the guilt and realize that it’ll be okay, the world won’t end with Tommy gone. He gently tries to nudge Grian down that path of acceptance of Tommy’s fate, and though he faces many setbacks, he tackles each one with a special kind of patience born of platonic love. They’re bros, despite everything. It’s only right.

Mumbo is, weirdly enough, on the side of Tommy being alive. Iskall doesn’t exactly approve and while he and Mumbo sometimes get into whispered arguments over it, they try to keep their little disagreements from Grian. Both of them only want to see their friend happy again, and will do just about anything to make it happen. For Mumbo, this means putting together crazy redstone contraptions to try and find Tommy again, as he’s certain that Grian’s little brother is still out there somewhere- and he has a piece that might prove it. Iskall comes over one day, face drawn and haggard from a night of soothing Grian through another set of screaming nightmares, only to find Mumbo waist high in redstone wiring, all hooked up to a strange portal design that looks too much like Doc’s infinity portal from season 6 for comfort. At the top of the arch is Tommy’s compass, needle whirling about like a hurricane, and while the portal isn’t lit, it does give off a faint blue-black glow. Iskall is frightened that Mumbo is tampering with something that could get him killed and Mumbo rushes to reassure him that no, the compass was specifically linked to Tommy so if Tommy was really dead, it would have been reset, right? He’s merely borrowing that tie to try and figure out where the two ends lead. Iskall is less than sure about this, especially since Mumbo is just as drawn and pale as he is, if a bit more covered in redstone, but they agree that fighting is pointless. They care about each other and about Grian too much to put any of them through that sort of pain- and besides, there’s more than enough fighting on the server already.

Ren too thinks that Tommy is alive and he is one of the ones who gets into regular fights. He’s a lover, not a fighter, but something about this whole situation just burns him up. When the pressure gets too much, he goes flying, tracing over those old familiar trails they searched so long ago, trying to see if there is anything they missed. There never is.

Welsknight has made his peace with Tomy’s death, though the server tends to forget that he and Tommy were closer than most. He alone knew that Tommy was once upon a time a boy called Theseus (a name given to him shyly when Tommy had asked him if there were any great heroes with that name that didn’t die). He alone knew Tommy’s love for horses, or that he would spend hours whispering horror stories to them when he thought no one would hear. Tommy was his squire, and although he had accepted the tragedy, he still wept for the hurt it brought him. He alone knew of the little grave he had dug under the willow tree in his castle courtyard and the headstone he had placed there, engraved with Tommy’s true name, death date, and supposed date of birth. He couldn’t have been more than 17, and perhaps that was what hurt the most. Every morning at dawn, Welsknight brings a bouquet of flowers to that little grave and says a prayer before disappearing into the morning fog. The flowers are always the same- forget me nots, for remembrance, violets, for devotion, and clover. (Think of me).

Tinfoilchef stays out of it- always has and always will. He’s too old to rush about searching or to feel as wildly as the others do. He feels, of course, but more so as the mountain does, steady and strong despite the winds that tear at its surface. Tommy is dead, but then, so are many of the people he has known in his life. It’s best to just keep plodding along.

BDubs is a mess. He had never spoken of it, but long before he had come to hermitcraft, he had had a daughter- a beautiful baby girl whose heart was too big for her chest, and she had died for that difference. He had grieved for years, but eventually the peace of the hermitcraft server had left him soothed, if a bit different than before. Tommy had been another chance at fatherhood, not that he could ever bear to call the teen that, even in the privacy of his own mind. Instead, he had taught the kid to build cobblestone towers that weren’t entirely offensive (if shaped a bit oddly) and had been the first to volunteer any time Grian was out and Tommy needed a place to spend the night when the nightmares were particularly fierce. They had so many fun sleepovers like that, and staring at those awful cobble towers in the distance, BDubs can’t help but bawl his eyes out at the memories. He waffles between taking the towers down or leaving them up- they really are ugly, and the feelings in his chest that they inspire are even more so, but somehow, he can’t bear to see them gone. Instead, he dries his eyes, flies off to grab a shulker of cobble, and sets about adding a few more to their number. A final remembrance for the boy he would have gladly claimed as his own, if only he hadn’t been too late. (He ends up building a lot more than a few).

Joe and Cleo are somehow the only ones who are actually neutral in the whole mess. Whenever they are asked their opinion on if Tommy is truly dead or not, the pair simply smile mysteriously and refuse to comment. Joe always seems to know more than he lets on and Cleo is his closest confidant, after all. Despite the anger and tears directed their way for refusing to commit to either side, the two keep their silence. (They know the truth of the matter, after all. Everything will be okay in time).

Xisuma has given up. Tommy is dead, and there is nothing he can do but spend days and days going over the code with a fine tooth comb, trying to find the glitch that cut the life of their youngest member short. Keralis takes it upon himself to take care of his long time friend, but it’s not an easy task, not when the other is so determined to make sure that such an incident never happens again. And Keralis can’t find it in himself to complain, especially since he is laboring under the impression that Xisuma agrees that Tommy is still out there and is trying to find him. It is only when Keralis mentions it in an aside, thanking the admin for his dedication, that Xisuma breaks the illusion and explains. Tommy isn’t just dead, he says tiredly, his very presence is well and truly wiped from the world’s code. All that is left of him is the faint impression his code had left behind, and trying to read it and understand what went wrong is a bit like trying to read small letters that have been drawn out in dry sand. Even for a voidwalker like himself such a task is near impossible, and Xisuma can only do so much. The needs of the many above the needs of the few- best to secure those he can now than worry over those that are gone beyond his reach. And Keralis can’t help but look at his friend with new eyes, a fleeting sense of betrayal in his heart. He had thought better of his Shishwammy, and he says as much. 

He cries while Xisuma watches on in solemn, mournful silence.

---

TBC  :)

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: The First Time

So this isn't the first one I wrote for this "series", but this is the first one chronologically, so I decided this will be the first to be posted. Depending on how well this one and the other two I've written do will help me to decide if this is an AU I wanna continue or not. Feel free to send in asks and stuff about the AU!

Warnings: Violence ; Death

Words: 3.5k

You hated the nether. The thick dry heat choked you in a way that made you feel as if you had stepped into a wildfire in the middle of a desert, but worse. The smell of sulfur seemed to cling to your clothes in a way that made you gag every time. To be honest, you probably wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t appreciate the piglins. You were able to barter with them much easier than the villagers back home, and they had much better stuff. You snorted at the thought, and the large brute before you copied the action.

Home.

The village you had set up base in wasn’t really your home. Just a convenient place that you had set up your bed. A bed which now sat on the other side of the portal you had built on the lower level of the bastion below.

You were grateful to have access to the only thing you really needed in the nether. Trading with the piglins gave you a way to achieve more ender pearls so you wouldn’t have to kill the poor enderman on the surface. You held out another gold ingot to the brute, but he didn’t take it immediately. He was looking at something to the side of your exchange and you turned your head slightly to look too.

The heat of the nether was nothing compared to the warmth that immediately bubbled in your stomach. Everything seemed to fizzle out of existence aside from the large man that had entered the bastion. Which turned out to be your mistake.

Searing pain in your back made you grunt as you were knocked forward into the brute in front of you. You turned to see a ghast behind you that breathed another fireball. The piglin, upset at suddenly being “attacked” started to slice at you with its sword and you hissed at the damage you were taking. You didn’t want to kill the piglin. It didn’t understand that it had been an accident.

You cursed at yourself. You hadn’t realized how hungry you had been all this time, and your health felt dangerously low. Another hit from the explosion of the fireball and a swipe at the brute’s sword replaced the pain with nothing as you died.

You cursed when you woke up in your bed next to the portal. The mattress felt almost too soft as you struggled to remove yourself from it and fling yourself back through the portal. You flew up the steps, your feet taking them two at a time and you hoped your items hadn’t despawned.

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief when you saw Technoblade examining your items. You had been fast enough. You jogged up behind him, a grin on your lips, both relieved for your items and excited to finally meet him. “Hey!”

You immediately jolted to a stop at the sword now placed at your throat, but you could help but laugh at yourself. You should have expected that. You held up your hands in what you believed to be a non-threatening manner as you looked up at him.

“Sorry about that! I’m [y/n].” You watched him slowly lower the blade, eyes behind the mask narrowed at you. He looked both exactly how you expected and not how you expected at all.

“Technoblade.” You couldn’t help the giggle that spilled from your lips as you moved around him to collect your items and put back on your armor. Who hadn’t heard of him?

“Man, I hate ghasts. I worked really hard to save up all those levels, and now I have nothing.” You took a cursory glance at your levels. “Oh, I’m sorry, I have two. Fat load of help that would be. Glad I don’t need to enchant anything for a long while, hm?” You turned back to him once you had your golden boots buckled. You were totally going to take advantage of this opportunity to follow him like a puppy. No one else you had met seemed to actually understand you and the chance at an interaction with someone had you almost crawling up the walls. “Where are we off to, then?”

Techno just stared at you. You were much shorter than he was. At least a foot, if not more. How tall was he again? In this form, about seven feet, he thought. You were very short compared to him. The thought made his lips twitch before he turned, walking in the direction of where he last remembered there to be a fortress.

Chat was going crazy at the discovery of this new anomaly. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t met people he didn’t share a couple lifetimes with before. He had met plenty where they just didn’t meet in a life or two, such as George or Schlatt. But never someone he had shared none with. No one here seemed to speak of anyone new either. It was always the same people, a different storyline. As if DreamXD -or maybe Kristen? He had only met her once, but she had been very kind. Would this be her department, then?- just kept recycling their souls into new realities like a -what did that lifetime call it? A movie? Chat confirmed his thought- played for their own entertainment until they got bored and it was onto the next.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You were talking again, but the roar in his brain was louder, so he didn’t pay too much attention to your words, despite how the soft timbre of your voice made something bubble in his chest. What were you even doing here? He had seen you trading with the piglins before your death, -you had respawned so quickly, anyone else in this lifetime took two or three days but you seemed to reappear in what felt like seconds- so why were you following him now?

Chat’s whispers echoed through his mind.

E.

I wonder who they are.

They can’t be older than Tommy.

E.

Maybe we should kill them again, see what happens this time.

Wilbur will want to know about this.

They said their name was [y/n]?

Maybe they’re like Phil.

Pog.

E.

Blood for the blood god.

E.

They’re probably closer to Wilbur’s age.

Stab them.

Jump off the edge.

Push them off the edge.

E.

Techno, will you call my friend Rachel a nerd?

All warfare is based on deception.

His fingers twitched around his sword at the thought. Was this all a trick? It couldn’t be.

Could it?

He glanced at you once more, focusing on your words, finally.

“-like they seem to notice, y’know? I just kind of walk into their houses, take from their chests, and move on. Hell, I even put my bed in, I think the library? Not one of them batted an eye! It’s almost scary, to be honest. I can loot their things, sleep in their beds, practically dismantle their homes, and I get nothing but a “Hnn.” in response!” A small pout found its way to your lips and Techno hummed in response. This seemed to be what you wanted to hear because a smile replaced the pout and you looked up at him. “So where are we going again?”

“Fortress.” His words were short, tone clipped, as if he didn’t know if you were gonna shove him into the lava, or if that was what he planned to do to you. It didn’t matter, to be honest. You were just thrilled he was letting you accompany him. Heart soaring at the feeling of interacting with another intelligent being once more. He even seemed to be listening as you rambled! That had to be a good thing, right? You hadn’t really met anyone else on the server yet, aside from distantly watching Dream, George, and Sapnap build the large building that stood in the center of what they dubbed the Dream SMP. A small giggle fell from your lips. That would have been a cute name had one of the members not been named it. Rather, it just felt self-centered because of that. You were mildly afraid of approaching the trio. You were almost afraid of how they would react when they met you.

You edged closer to the bridge to the fortress with Technoblade and you felt your heart speed up a little. Ash floated across your vision and you felt it hard to breathe for a moment. The sweat that made your clothes stick to your skin under your armor made you feel clammy. You had only been in one of these once since coming here when you wanted to try your hand at learning how to craft potions and needed blaze rods.

That.. hadn’t worked out in your favor.

You had only had one set of diamond armor, and you hadn’t even enchanted it at the time. When the wither skeletons had overtaken you and murdered you without a thought, you remembered racing back and trying to get your items back. This had only led to yet another death, however. Your eyebrows furrowed as the question entered your mind.

How many times had you died?

You remember when you first came to this world, waking up next to a river with a chest filled with bread, a map, a wooden axe, and a few other paltry items sitting before you surrounded by torches. The gentle babble of the water easing you awake and the smell of fresh flowers floated through the breeze. You almost didn’t mind the ants that were crawling on the ledge just a tad too close to you. You remember being so confused and the days being so hard at first. You didn’t even sleep the first couple days because you hadn’t found a village yet. The stupid phantoms that had attacked you had made you way more aggressive than you had meant to be. But you were tired and you were frustrated and you just wanted to find a stupid village already. You had been residing in the one you were in now since you had first found it your third day here. The first two deaths happening on your second day. One because of said phantoms and one because you had fallen from a cliff. You were devastated at the lack of supplies and progress when you just respawned next to that river, awaking to a few scattered zombies and a skeleton or two. You had dug yourself a hole and cried in it while you waited for sun-up. Many more deaths had happened since, but you couldn't seem to be able to remember the number now.

You hadn’t planned on returning to a fortress until you had better equipment, fearing another death. Something better than your diamond armor and golden boots and your sole netherite sword, but who were you to miss the opportunity to go exploring with The Blood God? Besides you had a bow with Power IV you had stolen from a skeleton that had been in the village. You didn’t know how durable it still was, but it was better than nothing, right?

The rattling of bones brought you out of your thoughts. Already a couple of blazes and some wither skeletons were approaching. You drew your sword, heart hammering in your chest. This wouldn’t be like last time. You had Technoblade to back you up. The top PVPer. The winner of the potato war. The Blood God. You could do this. You could do this.

A lucky swing from one of the wither skeletons caught you in the arm and you hissed as the wither effect immediately took hold and you jolted at the feeling. It was numbing. You felt nauseated. Another hit and you gasped when you felt your health drop to a dangerous level. You sliced up with your sword, removing its head from its spine with a gnarly “click” and you immediately moved out of fire to drink some milk and eat a couple of the pieces of salmon you had brought with you.

Whilst you were letting your health regenerate, you removed your bow from your inventory, aiming at one of the blazes, only to watch something white hit it first. You hesitated, looking towards Technoblade, only to see him ignoring the wither skeletons that were approaching you and focusing on throwing snowballs at the flaming mob. Your lips twitched. Fine. You’d take care of the skeletons, then.

You grabbed your sword once more and began attacking the skeletons in front of you with reckless abandon. You were growing mildly frustrated. Your arm hurt now and Techno seemed to be leaving you on your own to fight off the horde that was slowly amassing. There had only been four of them at first, but now four more had sprinted over to join the fray when they saw the two of you. Now, minus the one you had already taken care of and the two Technoblade had killed within the first ten seconds of their approach, there were five. You winced when you heard the sound of both blazes being taken care of and you hadn’t even killed one more.

‘-so she throws this apple, she just chucks this apple and says like, only the hottest goddess can take this apple.’ Chat loved it when he told them mythology stories, despite them being there when he had read it.

E.

Greek mythology pog.

Semi-demi god for the win!

Speaking of discord, how’s the new person doing?

E.

Persephone is definitely the hottest.

At the mention of you, Techno turned his attention to the sound of metal hitting metal and was surprised to see you still standing there, despite being crowded by wither skeletons. Just another thing to tack onto the list about you. He watched you kill another one, followed by a yelp as you took another hit, the wither effect turning the flesh around your wound a purplish black before you killed one more. You backed up on the bridge, drinking more milk and eating another piece of fish. He could see how the action pained you, but you were resilient.

They’re stupid.

Look at them wave that sword around, do they even know what they’re doing?

E.

They haven’t died again yet?

They can’t be one of Schlatt’s people.

Save them.

Technoblade, wasn’t Eris the daughter of Zeus?

E.

He decided to wait and see what you did. If you died, there was more for him to loot. If you didn’t, then it was a lesson. Either way, he wouldn’t have to worry about protecting you further into the fortress. His nose twitched at the smell of your blood and of rot that seemed to ooze off the skeletons. He still needed more wither skulls.

The remaining four attacked you again, despite your low health, and you felt as if you were going to cry. You hated the nether.

Two more were dispatched a lot faster than the first ones had been and you swallowed. Adrenaline coursed through your veins and you felt just the slightest bit more confident in yourself.

Two more left.

You ducked at a swing, movement still slow. You only had one more milk left, and that scared you. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, get hit again with their stupid swords and their stupid wither effect. You sliced with your sword, hooking the metal into the rib cage in front of you and sending the skeleton careening into the other just as it swung down, making the attack miss.You flinched at the sound of metal hitting stone, but you recovered faster than the skeletons in front of you. You could do this.

Another hit, your sword cutting through the skeleton’s vertebrate and killing it. You could do this.

One more.

Your sword was met with metal as you blocked its attack and you grunted, knocking it back. You could do this!

A downward slice had you throwing yourself back onto the side of the bridge as you dodged. You couldn’t die. Not here. Not now. Not in front of Technoblade again. You shoved another piece of salmon into your mouth as you backed up. You really hoped there weren’t any more blazes around. Or more skeletons waiting for you. You shoved yourself off the wall, hitting the wither skeleton with your shoulder to knock it back again before you struck once more, across the neck, beheading it.

The sight of three wither skulls in your inventory made you fall to your knees and you let out a sigh in relief. Your arms ached. Your wounds ached. Your head ached. Your vision doubled for a moment. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You felt great, despite how dizzy you felt at the moment. You looked at Technoblade, hoping to find him still there.

He was leaned against the wall of the fortress, watching you with crossed arms.

Was he waiting on you?

The thought made you perk up and you scrambled to stand, rushing to him while holding the skulls. “Here! I got them all!”

He merely blinked at you as you handed him all three skulls you had gotten from your fight, placing them into his inventory after a moment. He didn’t speak, just turned to descend further in. Were you supposed to follow him?

You did anyways, feeling proud of yourself. He had waited on you!

The rest of the fortress had been like that. You continuously fighting wither skeletons, blazes, regular skeletons, zombified piglins, and magma cubes, only to turn over your loot to the large warrior who would patiently wait for you. You kept a few of the bars of gold, some diamonds, and one of the saddles you had found, but ultimately, you were just spare hands to help him. The experience you were gaining was more than enough, especially since he seemed to be listening to you ramble on and on. He’d occasionally hum or grunt in response, but not much more than that. It was still such a sweet sound in your ears, despite the constant crackle of fire that just filled the nether.

He didn’t speak when he decided he was finished, just started walking back the way you came and you immediately fell into step next to him when he walked past you.

Despite your exhaustion and the pain you felt, this trip felt more than worth it.

When you returned to the bastion where you two had first met, you grinned up at him.

Techno felt his breath catch in his throat at your smile. That smile almost made the sweltering brightness of the nether feel cold and dark. He had never had someone, aside from Tommy, smile at him with such warmth. No one had a smile like yours. They were all weighed heavy with the memories from lifetimes no longer in reach. But you? You were so tired from accompanying him, still wounded from fighting for him. Aside from the couple small treasures you had hidden away, you had given him everything. There was really no reason for you to have gone with him when you received virtually nothing in return. And now you smiled at him like that? You were-

TechnoSIMP.

E.

Look at how cute they are.

They’re stupid.

Take them back with us.

You should give them something for helping.

Hug them.

Awww look at them!

All warfare is based on deception.

He stopped that thought before it could fully finish.

“I should get going. I don’t know how dark it is and I want a bath.” He nodded at you. “I’ll catch you some other time, alright? Don’t be afraid to come by sometime if you need a buddy again, okay?”

He only hummed in response and watched you glide down the stairs of the bastion to a portal he had never noticed before.

A buddy? You weren’t a buddy. What did he really know about you?

You respawned faster than anyone else he had met. There hadn’t been another chance to test that, but you seemed unphased with your death. When you held up your hands, he couldn’t see the usual hearts on your wrist that they all shared. Even when normal members lost a life, he’s noticed that the normally red hearts are cracked and black. Phil himself had one on the center of his wrist. But yours were bare from the mark. You weren’t immortal, were you? Had he come across a god?

He chuckled at the thought.

Such a tiny god compared to him.

For now, he had to return to Pogtopia. He had to tell Wilbur about you. Perhaps write to Phil and ask if he knew anything about people with no or unlimited lives. He would repay your kindness at a later date.

He only hoped you wouldn’t be on the other side of this war.

[owaowabetch]

Minecraft pt. 1 (Sykkuno x F!Reader)

Oneshot (maybe part of a series??? idk we’ll see): Even though you’ve never played minecraft, you still manage to build a great house with your basement buddy. Friendship with a hint of romance. This is season 1 of the OTV ftb server (Pre-relationship; part of Uh-oh & Impasta)

“Ok guys, so today’s stream is going to be a lil different” You chat to your stream “We are going to be playing Minecraft with the OTV gang and other people we’ve played among us with!” Waiting for Minecraft to load on your pc, you continued on chatting “We will be playing GTA later on in the stream, we have a few jobs lined up with some people, so hopefully we get a lot of money from that” 

You minimized your face cam into a corner as your character appeared in a random spawn area near quite a few people. You saw multiple boxy players run around and hitting each other. So, you walked around picking up flowers  and with the help of some members of your chat, you managed to collect wood.

“OH! HEY Y/N!!” A loud crunchy voice yelled terribly into your ear causing you to cringe visible and immediately start hitting them with the wood in your hand.

“Your mic is dank man” You continue hitting them, which turned out to be Leslie and she starts to hit you back with a laugh. You guess her flowered hand overpowered your wood and hungry state, because you died and respawned to where you first showed up.

“Ah fuck” You complained before another boxy figure showed up infront of you and you recognized the blue shirt and green striped scarf, so you cheered. “Sykkuno!”

“Hey, Y/N!” His character moved his head up and down “What happened? How did you die?”

“Leslie’s mike was..crunchy?? And then she killed me!” You jump around

Sykkuno laughs “What? I’m surprised mobs havent got you. I’ve been killed many times by them” and in comedic fashion poki ran by screaming for help as she was being chased by a giant spider. You both watched as she would turn and hit it before continuing on her run.

It killed her. She puffed into smoke and in her place was a grave.

You both laugh as Sykkuno gasps out her name and you both run to her grave.

“Is this part of the mod? Or is it part of minecraft” You ask crouching on her grave and read her name.

He jumped around you with an answer “ Uh no it’s a mod that abe put in. If you break it the stuff you died with will spawn out”

“Oh” Continuing the crouch and uncrouch “What now?”

“Well i was going to find some of my graves, but I’m gunna find wood to make tools and find food” He answered and with that you decided to follow him

You collect the fruit from the near by trees and kill some of the animals with an axe that Sykkuno made you. Along the way you collected flowers and wood.

“We should find a house before it gets dark and more mobs come and kill us” Sykkuno walks to you then throws a stack of wood on the floor “Or maybe you build us a house. I’m not good at that type of thing”

You stare into your cam and do the debbie ryan “Oh my god, living together?” You pick up the stack of wood and start building a small house “Is that good?”

“Ya, that’s great! I’ll put the door down and I got us some beds, so we now have a spawn point. So when we die we just end up here” He explains doing so

Nodding along to what he said, you start putting the flowers you collected around the house before entering the house. He put the beds down next to each other. Making sure to mute yourself, you do the finger point and with a ‘tch’ sound you smile “ Oh my God Chat! Our beds are next to each other !?! How crazy. Heehee”  

The house was lit up with torches. “Click on the bed” He tells you and you do so. Your characters laid there side by side and your chat was hearing you make embarrassing noises. “Chat better not be telling him how embarrassing I’m being please. This is a desparate plea for you guys not to tell him!! Like Im joking guys please” With a laugh, your character gets off the bed and you walk out.

“Oh!” In Sykkuno’s hand was a flower “I noticed you picking up flowers and I know that [Flower/Name] is your favorite, so i picked some up for you”

You can’t stop the smile that appears on your face nor the flush on your cheeks “You are so fucking cute”

“Wha-?” You interrupt him “This is so sweet, honestly Sy.”

He throws them on the ground “It’s no problem. Just saw them and remembered how much you liked them “ and you pick them up, putting them at the entrance of the door “I love it!!! Thank You Sykkuno!!”

He hums and jumps around. You check chat, when a donation comes in telling you to check it, and read that he was purposefully was looking for the flowers because he knows how much you would’ve loved them. You don’t believe them at first, telling them that while he is nice, going around looking for a flower doesn’t seem like a productive thing to do. So, someone from your chat sent a clip of him telling his viewers that he was looking for your favorite flower to give to you. His excuse was that this as your first time playing minecraft, so he wanted you to enjoy it and thought it would be a great present until he can find diamonds.

“Guys! No!! That is so sweet!” You cry out blushing even further

“Hey guys!” A voice called out. A voice you immediately recognized to be Liliy’s “Come look at my house!” Looking up you see her stood further up from the both of you. She started making her way down and gasped “Are those [F/N]!?! Where did you find these! The look so pretty!”

“Yea” You jumping once more “Aren’t they cool?”

“YES! Can I have one?” She asked standing next to them “Is this your house? I love the flowers around them”

“I guess this is where we live now” You respond

“Both?” Lily questioned “You and Sykkuno are living together!?!”

“Yea! He actually gave me the [F/N]s, so you can’t..have them..” You respond to her awkwardly

Lily turns to Sykkuno and hits his character “You fucking simp”

He gasps “Lily” but she ignores him “I’ll take a different flower as a housewarming gift. Now follow me!”

“Y/N, why don’t you go see it while I gather up more materials” Sykkuno told you

You follow her up the small mountain? And there laid her pink house and you gasped “There is pink wood!?!”

“Yea, you just need pink dye. I have a bunch left if you want some” She offered you

“I don’t know if Sykkuno would want to live in a pink house” You enter her house and notice chests and peak into them

“He’d want what you want so just go for it.” She places the flower she took from your house next to hers. “Those chests belong to other people, but here’s mine.” She hits the chest in her house “I think i have like 20 of the pink wood left, so you can just take the rest”

You took the stack from her chest “Awesome! Your house is nice! It’s big too! I’d have to remake our house into something bigger”

“Yea, it’s kinda ugly since it isn’t pink” She tells you causing you to laugh

“It was a last minute thing to hid in during the night” Holding the pink wood in your hand “I’ll probably look up some building tips and stuff later to make a cool place, but thanks Lily!”

You hung out in her house talking with people as they came and went as Lily went to find more flowers to surround her house in. Though someone interesting came in, wearing the generic steve skin with a slightly creepy face.

“Hey Miyoung!” Lily called from out her house

“Hi Lily” She responded “I’m just letting you know I’m putting a death trap in your home. Please don’t tell the victims”

You snorted in amusement “Can I help with that?”

She moves towards you in her crouched state, so you respond in kind. You both just stared at each other in your crouched position circling each other “Okay, so I have a bucket of oil, so I want to dig a hole in the ground and push people into it”

Nodding your head “Clean, my chat was telling me that there is a trapped door, so why not put one on the ground above it and just have people walk in it?”

“We should also put a sign down there, so as they’re slowly sinking to their death, there’ll be a sign that mocks them” Nodding her characters head “I have some signs already, I’ll make the trapped door”

Taking a shovel from your hotbar, you dig a hole 6 blocks down, digging the other side as you make your way down. You then walk to the other side and start to make your way up.

“You should leave an open space for the sign, maybe 2 blocks open?” Miyoung tells you as she eyes you from above. You jump out of the hole you created and shovel 2 dirt blocks. She places a sign down and covers it up with a wood plank that matches the floor of Lily’s house “Wait I need to put the oil down”

So, she breaks the floor once more and jumps in to put the oil in before making her way back up. “I just put RIP on the sign, I think it’ll help them realize that they will die, so..”

“Alright clean clean” You jump around and watch as she places a trap door on the floor above it and placing a sign in front of it.

“We should probably look for victims” Miyoung tells you

You make your character swing their arm around towards the chests in Lily’s home “Well people have stuff in here, so maybe we should wait for someone to come in to grab something and lure them”

“Sounds good” She says and as she says this Sykkuno comes barging in.

“Hey y/n!” He cheers “Oh hey Miyoung! Lily told me that she has a bucket in her chest that she’ll let me borrow. So, I’m just trying to find her chest. Don’t mind me” He rifles through them “Can’t seem to find them “

You open the trap door and look at him before he turns to you two “Oh is it in here?” and down he goes. “Oh!? IS THIS A TRAP”

You start giggling as he starts to panic laugh “y/n? miyoung? Help!”

You both just crouch above him and stare as he slowly sinks “Guys, any help? please? y/n?”

Miyoung just closes the trap door and walks away and in the little chat says that Sykkuno died in due to [Sticky Dipping], so you type in an apology as you make your way back towards the house. You meet him and apologize to him once again.

“It’s no problem. It was actually kind of funny, but check in the chest I have in the house. I got some more stuff for you for the house” He tells you  “I’m gunna go back to get my stuff and the bucket, so i’ll catch you later!”

“Alright, see ya Sy!” You cheer back to him and make your way into the house.”Alright chat, let’s see what he gave us! I’m not reading what you guys, say so no spoilers~”

You open the wooden box and inside were more pink wood planks, glass, stairs, torches, other house materials to make building easier, and some more of your favorite flowers.

You feel your chest tighten as the butterflies appear in your stomach. You smile largely and giddy, opening and closing your mouth trying to gather the words to express how you felt, you were pleasantly surprised by the things he left you.

You wanted to squeal at how nice he is. It is hard to come across a genuinely nice guy that wanted nothing but friendship with you. So, it was easy to fall for Sykkuno; but it was hard to admit to yourself your growing feelings for him, because love is scary and being in love with your friend is even scarier. Once those feelings come out, you can’t take them back and things just become different. So, it is safe to say that you’ll be keeping them to yourself.

“By the way” Sykkuno starts causing you to jump in real life, as you were sat pondering to yourself “The server is making a town square a few blocks away, so why don’t we move the house there?”

You start collecting the items in your inventory “Yea! Are you going to need help carrying the rest of the stuff there?”

He starts breaking the items in your old home “If you have the room for some that’ll be great! yea!”

Once you both gathered the things you wanted to take, you guys bound towards where the Town Square was being made.

“Oh! By the way, can I request you build a basement for me in our house?” Sykkuno asks

The thought of him referring to the house as ‘ours’ made you smile “Yea, but can I ask why you want one?”

“Don’t worry. I won’t build anything that’ll blow up our house” Sykkuno dodges the question

‘Our’ house. Maybe one day that can be a real life possibility. You couldn’t contain the smile growing on your face even further. Maybe one day you’ll have the courage to tell him how you feel.

As you start building near Leslie’s house, a thought suddenly pops into your head ‘Sykkuno there is a girl into you’

[letsfluxshitup]

the mortifying ordeal of being cared for (ao3)

(tw injury/blood/stitches)(not permadeath btw <3)

Technoblade thought, with absolute surety, he was going to die.

He wasn't sure how he'd made it back to Pogtopia, fresh bloody handprints decorating the walls, and small pools of blood from where he rested a second too long.

It didn't matter if he died, he'd just respawn, it'd be fine, but that didn't stop the deep primal fear of death, of not coming back, of the respawn failing. 

He let out a deep stuttery breath as he fumbled open a chest, desperately searching for bandages, cloth, anything to staunch the bleeding.

He heard, faintly, some noise behind him, muttered talking that turned more frantic but he brushed it aside, it was unimportant, where was his medkit-

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his desperate searching, and he automatically swung backwards, but he was slow, too slow, and the figure easily dodged. 

He reached for his knife, fumbling to his feet, knife first, all regards for tact and technique abandoned in his desperate swing. 

He wasn't sure what happened then, vision blanking from the rush of movement, but he knew he was knifeless and being cradled to someone's chest. Quackity's, he guessed, between the panicked shrieking and signature jacket.

It was slicked with blood now, and no, his jacket shouldn't look like that, and he tried to pull away, to mitigate the damages and prevent more blood spilling. Quackity only held him tighter, arms feeling like iron bars locking him in.

Since when was Quackity so strong, Techno thought. Since when was I so weak.

His memories after that were spotty as he slipped in and out of consciousness, mostly remembering the warm water and rag that cleaned his wounds, the bite of the needle from stitches, and Quackity's soft cooing as he ran fingers through his hair, a reassurance and distraction from the burning pain spreading up his side.

--

Quackity had decided that morning that he very much did not like Pogtopia. It was cold, Tommy and Techno(traitor) bullied him, and he could never find things where he left them.

Case in point, he was clambering down the steep staircase that had fallen many a foe, in a futile search for his misplaced pickaxe. It took a second to register the blood smeared on the walls, the scent of copper smothering in the air. He walked faster, ignoring his shoes sticky with blood, as he nervously called out a tentative 'hello?'

No response.

He walked faster, gaze sharp as he took in the ravine before him, and he wished it had been lit up a little better, fumbling through long stretches of burnt out torches. He followed the trail to Techno's door and his stomach dropped, if something had fucked him up so badly, what did that say for the rest of them? 

Praying that whatever he picked a fight with was either dead or knew better than to come back, he entered the room.

"Techno?" He started, trying to sound calm but quickly dissolving into panic as he rushed towards a hunched over and bloody Techno. 

He'd barely touched his shoulder when he lashed out at him, a sharp snarl echoing through the room, eyes unfocused and uncomprehending. He lurched forwards, half crawling half on his feet, and Quackity easily, too easily, pried the blade from his hands.

Techno then face planted into his neck, a pained sob making its way out of his throat. Quackity quickly dragged him back to the ground, curling his arms around him, trying to keep his voice soothing but he knew the panic was leaking through.

Techno squirmed weakly, before stilling, a dead weight in Quackity's lap. Quackity tried to calm down, take deep breaths, but the cloying smell of blood was making it difficult to even think.

He went through the first aid he knew, haphazardly cleaning wounds and his stitches sloppy and almost definitely going to leave an ugly scar.

At least he isn't bleeding out anymore, Quackity thought nervously, splashing a regen potion on the worst of the wounds. 

After assuring he wouldn't bleed out, he found a bucket that he filled with water, keeping it warm near the fire.

He carefully cleaned the blood off of the rest of Techno, scrubbing it out of his hair and nails. He used the knife Techno had swung at him to carefully cut away his ruined shirt, cleaning the blood off of him before shoving him into a nightgown he'd found when digging through chests for more medical supplies.

Quackity decided that once Techno was better he could tease him about it, but it would probably reflect poorly on him if he made fun of a half dead bed ridden man.

He absently wondered who had given it to him, doubting he'd bought it for himself. It was covered in potatoes and looked comfy as hell, so he couldn't really judge him.

Techno was relatively dead to the world anyways, so teasing him now would be pointless. 

The most response he had gotten from the man was a reflexive splutter when he'd accidentally dropped a water soaked rag on his face, and Quackity could only hope he wouldn't remember that.

He dragged Techno into bed, mindful of his stitches, and noticing the drop in temperature. He was still unnaturally warm by human standards, but unnaturally cold by... Techno standards. Blood loss would do that to you, apparently. 

Quackity hunted down every blanket he could find in the room, uncovering some from chests and the like before carefully tucking Techno in. He looked very... small, on the bed, face colorless and slack, breaths uneven and stuttery.

Quackity hoped he wouldn't have to do anything about his breathing, that was a bit out of his area of expertise. 

All of this was out of his area of expertise, actually, but that was fine. 

Techno was breathing, wasn't he? 

Well. Mostly.

--

Techno wasn't sure how much later it was until he woke up properly, but he was propped up in his bed, thoroughly tucked in. Quackity was slumped in a chair next to him, face buried in the sheets as he snoozed. 

Techno cleared his throat, and that hurt, and his mouth tasted awful and everything else was just pain.

Quackity sat up abruptly though, hair sleep ruffled and he hastily swiped away drool. He blinked blearily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before giving Techno a nervous lopsided smile.

"How's my favorite patient doing?" He chirped, standing up and carefully checking Techno's wounds. When Techno just grunted in response he waved a healing potion in front of him, and Techno was grateful for having at least a semi competent caretaker.

That gratefulness was swiftly shattered as Quackity waterboarded him with the healing potion, overzealous in his offering and spilling it all over his face and shirt. Thankfully the potion wasn't picky, and absorbed anyways, the healing effect settling in and making him feel tired.

He wanted to fall asleep, but Quackity was waving food in front of him, toasted bread slathered with sweet berries, as he stuttered out apologies.

"I'm not the, uh, best doctor-" Techno interrupted him with a snort, "but I'm the best you got for now, alright?"

Techno just gave him a flat look in response.

"Listen! Would you rather I wear a nurse outfit? Would that make you feel better?" Quackity huffed, arms crossed, and Techno made a show of shuddering in horror.

"Hey, fuck off! I have the fattest ass in the cabinet, you know! You should- you should be appreciative of- of my... Of my ass." He finished lamely, cheeks aflame as he waved his hands. "Listen, listen, let's just- we're gonna forget all that, alright?"

Techno snorted, and it hurt his throat and ribs but Quackity was grinning back at him, and he figured that made up for it.

--

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sleeping on and off, waking up only for the occasional healing potion and sip of water. Quackity never asked what had happened, and he was glad, not wanting to explain the circumstances that had almost led to his untimely demise.

Quackity insisted on brushing his hair every time he woke up for longer than thirty seconds, chastising him about proper hair care and tangles and if Techno could say more than a word at a time he'd point out the poor state of Quackity's wings. 

As Quackity deftly braided his hair from where he'd settled behind him, Techno focused on the apple he'd been given, carefully slicing off bits with a knife and alternating between handing them to Quackity and eating them himself.

He had to question the logic of giving a very out of it patient a knife, but he quietly revelled in the feeling of comfort it gave him, and the warm feeling spreading in his chest from sharing food.

When the apple was finished and the braid completed, Techno leaned his head back, resting on Quackity's shoulder. Techno couldn't understand what Quackity was saying, instead just humming and snuggling back, dead to the world in an instant. 

Quackity felt a small pang of pride at the blatant trust, before starting to settle in for the night. Day? He'd lost track of time, caring for Techno being his prime focus.

His communicator flashed with unread messages, but he had been busy, alright? Was still busy, he thought, eyeing the knife in Techno's now loose grip.

Quackity gently took the knife from him, setting it in reach, before settling his arms lightly around Techno's torso, protective of the hastily stitched gash in his side.

It took a bit of squirming before his wings settled comfortably on his back, but finally Quackity managed to fall asleep.

--

Quackity had been helping a shaky Techno into a new shirt when the door abruptly shrieked open. 

Reflexively, Quackity reached for the knife on the bedside table before turning towards the door. Techno had drilled into him that it was better to be paranoid than dead after Quackity had unthinkingly mentioned the condition Techno was in to the others.

Privately, Quackity thought Techno was being a bit paranoid, but it helped him relax a little and Quackity really was worried about the poor guy's heart.

Wilbur stepped in, taking in the scene before him with an impassive face.

"You're making friends." It wasn't a question, more of an accusation over anything else, and Quackity wondered why Wilbur sounded offended.

Turning back to help Techno, he absently looked over his healing wounds, checking for any damages or fresh blood.

Wilbur continued to stare past Quackity, studying his brother and oh.

That's why Wilbur was offended.

Techno opened his mouth as if to speak, but Wilbur cut him off, irritation clear in his voice.

"No, no, I get it. You're injured and need to be cared for so obviously you ask the flake with a complex." Wilbur's face had turned more snide, his voice disparaging as he planted his hands on his hips.

Quackity wanted to defend himself, and also ask what kind of complex Wilbur thought he had, and also ask what the fuck, low blow, asshole.

Techno moved like he was going to stand up, looking pissed, and Quackity waved his hands frantically, wings puffing up and blocking his view of Wilbur.

"Hey, hey, c'mon, buddy, you don't have to defend my honor or anything, stay in bed." Quackity carefully guided him back into bed but Techno still looked irritated.

"He's being an ass." He deadpanned, leaning around Quackity's outstretched wings to send Wilbur a scathing look. 

To Wilbur's credit, he managed to mainly suppress his flinch, but it was still noticeable enough that Techno shot him one of his more feral grins.

Quackity, realizing he was still holding the knife, set it back down on the nightstand. This quickly turned out to be a big mistake as without hesitating Techno snatched it up, throwing it at his brother. 

Between the injuries and not actually wanting to hurt his brother, it missed by a mile, and Techno punctuated the clear message with a snarled 'out'.

Wilbur looked hurt for a split second, before he settled back into an unbothered stance, leaving the room with a muttered 'whatever'.

"Your family's fucking weird, man." Quackity finally broke the silence, letting out a nervous laugh as he side eyed Techno.

Techno just nodded slightly, scrubbing at his face before settling back into the pillows.

"He's just lashing out because he's a theatre kid and doesn't know how to process his emotions any other way." 

Privately, Techno wished Philza was here, he was always a lot better at smoothing things over. Or riling things up, depending on the situation.

"Right." Quackity said, after a bit of silence, both deep in thought. "Do you want him to take care of you? Like, I know we've settled into this sorta thing, but, like, I'm not gonna be offended or anything if you'd rather have family watch over you, y'know?" 

Techno looked perplexed for a second, before shaking his head.

"Wilbur's been pickin' fights with me lately, should probably give him space or something." He looked towards Quackity, uncertainty written across his face.

"Oh! Yeah! That makes sense, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that." Quackity nodded, self assured in that way only someone who wasn't entirely sure what they were talking about could be.

Techno snorted, before patting the bed next to him.

"Sleep?" 

"Sure. Y'know, big guy, you should feel special." Quackity grinned at him, as he settled into the bed next to him.

"Oh?" Techno raised an eyebrow, settling his arm around Quackity.

"Yeah. Not just anyone gets the Quackity into their bed." Quackity tried to hide his smile in Techno's shoulder, failing miserably once catching sight of Techno's expression. 

Techno stared down at him, eyes wide and looking... Confused? Mortified? Quackity wasn't that great at reading his expressions, yet. 

Unceremoniously, Techno shoved him off the bed, hiding his snorts in his pillow.

Quackity's hip hurt where it connected with the floor but he couldn't hold back his wide grin.

He stumbled up off the floor, flopping on to the bed and settling in against Techno, delighted he could make Techno laugh like that.

--

Quackity laid there in silent horror, staring down at the wet spot of drool on Techno's shirt. Techno would never sleep with him again. Not that he cared, or anything. Techno was just very warm and the ravine was very cold, alright?

"Techno." Quackity whispered, sitting up as best he could with Techno's arm locked around him. "Techno it's time to get up."

"No," Techno murmured, moving the arm around Quackity's waist to cup the back of his head and gently push him back into his neck. Quackity snorted into Techno's neck, before patting at his chest.

"C'mon big guy, time to get up." He squirmed out from under Techno's arm, patting at his cheek insistently. 

Techno's eyes fluttered open, looking mildly irritated, before he rolled, taking Quackity with him and pinning him underneath him.

He buried his face into Quackity's neck, free hand moving into Quackity's closest wing and lightly petting the feathers. 

Quackity huffed, batting at his hand because that was cheating, thank you very much, Quackity was going to fall back asleep at this rate.

"C'mon, Blade, we gotta get a move on." Quackity twisted the fingers of his free hand into the hair at the base of Technoblades neck, and tugged lightly.

Techno let out a warning growl, before rolling off of Quackity. Quackity side eyed him and, deciding may as fucking well, shoved Techno the rest of the way off the bed. 

He was mostly healed up anyways, and it wouldn't hurt him that much. Hopefully.

There was a beat of silence before Techno popped up from over the side of the bed, looking completely baffled.

Quackity jumped over him and made a break for the door, but Techno was faster.

He draped himself heavily over Quackity, nearly sending him tumbling to the ground, as he sighed obnoxiously in his ear.

"You're going to have to carry me, I think you broke my legs." Quackity could hear the grin in his voice, but didn't call him on it. He'd rarely seen Techno in any kind of playful mood, and he figured he could risk playing along if it made Techno happy. 

He'd only heard the man laugh a handful of times before, and all that stress couldn't be good for his heart.

Quackity barley made it another stumbling step before there was a sharp rapping at the door.

"Techno? Wilbur needs you." Tommy called through the door.

The change in Techno was immediate, the playful attitude rolling off of him as he straightened up and headed for his clothes and sword. The past... Dispute still fresh in his mind.

"Tell him I'll be there in a minute." Techno called back. 

He knocked his crown off of it's hook and Quackity reached down to grab it for him. He was met with a sharp look, Techno quickly snatching it up, the cuddly Techno from earlier replaced with a cold, more analytical persona. 

Techno whipped open the door, brushing past Tommy with barely an acknowledgement, deep in thought and looking mildly irritated. 

Tommy looked over at Quackity, shifting awkwardly. 

"Sorry about him. He's not much of a morning person." Tommy said absently, as he watched Techno move through the ravine.

"So! What do you want to eat, Big Q?" Tommy beamed at him, energy cranked up to 11 after his brother was out of sight. 

Quackity gave him an unusually soft look, before throwing an arm over his shoulder and knocking their heads together.

"What've you got here, boss?" Quackity practically chirped, letting himself be dragged away by an overly excited Tommy. He tamped down on his worry over Techno, as he settled into bantering with Tommy.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

V, my beloved. Can I please get some nice Tango and Etho buddy moment? My heart needs it.

Why yes, yes you can! :D

Summary: A glitch on the server sends Tango into a death loop. Etho rushes to save him before something even worse happens. 

CW: slightly graphic description of death. Nothing too bad but just putting it there in case.

...

  Something is very wrong with the server. Tango can feel it as soon as he jumps into the end portal. There’s something deep down in his code that feels genuinely unsettled by being in the End, and what worries him is that there’s no need for this. He’s been to the End thousands of times, and he’s not even here to do anything particularly stressful like fight the ender dragon. There’s no reason for him to be so scared. 

  As he makes his way towards the end gate, a message comes up on his communicator. 

<Xisuma> Server’s a little glitchy right now guys, be careful not to die, just in case.

  Tango shivers. It must be the glitches that’s causing him to feel so uneasy. Well, no matter: he’s usually very careful anyway. He shouldn’t have to worry about dying. 

  Unfortunately, he looks up at exactly the wrong moment and finds himself looking straight at an enderman. 

  The creature immediately shrieks and charges at him. Tango yelps and scrambles back, dashing to the side. He tries to activate his elytra but server glitches are often unkind to fliers and he can’t get a rocket to fire. When trying again and again yields no results, he decides to take a risk. 

  He jumps off the end island in a place where he knows there is a platform underneath him. If worst comes to worst, he will take a bit of fall damage. 

  Sure enough, his elytra fails again and he falls a few blocks down to the small platform underneath the island. Sighing, he gets to his feet and dusts himself off, momentarily forgetting why he was in such a hurry to fly away in the first place. 

  A shriek sounds from directly behind him.

  He spins sharply round, but it’s too late. 

  The enderman hits him twice in rapid succession, knocking him off the platform. 

  Tango tries desperately to activate his elytra and rockets, but it still doesn’t work. He drops into the void like a stone. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

  Sighing, Tango lets himself respawn, expecting to wake up in his bed back in his base. Or if not there, the spawn island. 

  But when he reappears, he finds himself suspended mid-air in the void, nothing as far as his eye could see. He can’t even let out a scream as he falls again, the life getting rapidly sucked out of him just as it had done just seconds before. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

  He reappears in the void again. Before he can react, he’s falling again, taking more and more damage until finally…

Tango fell out of the world.

  This time, he manages a few hoarse screams for help as the void takes him for the fourth time. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

  He pulls out his communicator and only just manages to type a very quick message before the end comes for him again. 

<Tango> HELP

Tango fell out of the world. 

  He experiences the same excruciating pain over and over again. The agony of having the oxygen sucked from his lungs, of his throat being torn out, of his limbs being bent and snapped, of the pressure building rapidly in his face until his eyes feel like they’re about to explode. All this happens in less than five seconds but it always inevitably ends the same way. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

  He falls.

Tango fell out of the world. 

  He hurts. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

  He dies. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

  And there’s nothing he can do about it. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

Tango fell out of the world. 

  “I GOT HIM!” 

  It takes Tango a few seconds to realise he isn’t falling anymore. He isn’t hurting or dying. Instead, he’s suspended mid-air. Something is gripping his hand, stopping him from falling. He’s dangling over the void but it no longer has the power to hurt him. 

  “Can you pull him up?!” shouts a familiar voice. 

  “I’m trying! Get over here and help me!” 

  After a moment, a second hand closes over his wrist and he feels himself getting pulled upwards. He has no strength left to try and help, so he just lets himself hang limply. The void has not only taken all his items but every ounce of his energy. 

  Finally, he feels his knee touch something. He’s pulled up onto a solid surface, but the world is still blank in his eyes. Even though he can feel himself kneeling on a proper surface, his eyes cannot see anything except the void. 

  He blinks a few times. Has he gone blind? Or is his mind playing tricks on him? Has he died in the void so many times that he’s gone genuinely insane? 

  “-an you hear me?” One of the voices from before becomes audible in his battered ears. “Tango, say something if you can hear me.”

  Tango’s mouth opens but he can’t get any sound to come out. 

  “Buddy, it’s Etho,” the same voice says soothingly. “You’re safe now, I promise. Can you nod for me to show you can hear me?”

  This he can do. Tango manages a slow nod. 

  “Oh, thank god…” Etho breathes. “X, what’s wrong with him? Why are his eyes like that? Why isn’t he moving? Why can’t he talk?”

  “His code is severely damaged,” says the other voice worriedly. “That death loop’s really done a number on him. I don’t know if he’s fully aware of everything around him but at least we know he can hear us. That’s a good sign. Ask him yes or no questions while I try to repair his code.”

  “O-Okay.” Etho’s voice is shaking audibly. “Tango, can you see me?”

  Tango slowly shakes his head. 

  “Can you see anything?”

  Another head shake. 

  Etho’s next three questions also result in a head shake. Can you talk? Are you in pain? Can you move? 

  “Argh, the other hermits keep messaging me,” mutters Xisuma irritably. “Etho, send them a quick message, will you? Tell them to back off.”

  The hands holding Tango’s disappear. A pause follows this. 

  “Please don’t actually write that, Etho,” Xisuma sighs. “I know how you think.”

  Etho chuckles weakly. “Sorry. I’ll let them know we saved him and we’re working on getting him home.”

  “Thanks.”

  In the ensuing pause, Tango finds between his continuous blinks that the world is starting to swim into view. He can now make out the fuzzy outline of someone sitting in front of him. It must be Etho.

  He opens his mouth again and tries to speak, but his vocal chords are so damaged that all he can manage is a faint gurgling sound. 

  Etho’s hands immediately grasp his again. “I’m still here, buddy. I’m right here. X, can we get him back to the overworld? He can’t be comfy kneeling on hard endstone.” 

  Tango blinks as his vision starts to go black. Exhaustion is threatening to overwhelm him and he actually wants to let it. He’s so tired. Too tired to stay awake. 

  He finds himself sagging against Etho. The last thing he’s aware of before he passes out is the sound of Etho’s heartbeat. 

…

  Tango’s falling again. Pain explodes from his neck, his stomach, his head, his arms, his chest, everywhere. He tries to scream but his voice is ripped away from him and he can see Etho right in front of him but he can’t reach him and Etho can’t hear him and Etho can’t help him and-

  “Tango!” Etho’s voice sounds from somewhere in the distance. “Tango, you gotta wake up!” 

  Tango sits bolt upright with a strangled cry. Seeing the blank world still in front of his vision, he cries and buries his face in his hands, tears flowing from his eyes. 

  He feels someone sit down next to him and wrap their arms around him, gently pulling his head close to their chest. Tango takes deep breaths, letting himself relax as he registers the sound of Etho’s heartbeat. 

  “You’re okay, Tango,” Etho whispers. “You’re safe, I promise. I hope you can hear me.”

  Tango slowly opens his eyes. 

  The blankness is gone.

  He can see the bed below him. And the floor below that. And the walls around him. His vision has finally returned. 

  He slowly pulls away and sits up straight, almost starting to cry again as he gazes into the face of his close friend. 

  “Etho,” he croaks. His voice hasn’t fully returned yet but at least he can speak again. 

  “Hey.” Etho smiles widely and places his hands on Tango’s shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

  “B-Battered.” 

  Etho gives a quiet chuckle. “Yeah, a death loop will do that to you. You gave everyone a massive scare, buddy. Impulse and Zedaph especially. Xisuma had to send them to the mining desert to do some grinding to take their mind off it.” 

  Tango grimaces. “I didn’t mean to. What happened to me? How did you save me?”

  “X and I tracked your death signatures to that spot in the End. I can imagine what it looked like for you but to us, you kept respawning a block or two away from the ledge and then falling again. It took me at least four tries to catch you, so… I’m sorry it took me so long.”

  “No, don’t apologise. You still saved me. Yeah, to my eyes, it was like I respawned in the void and then just died again and again and again. Even when you got me out, I couldn’t see anything except void.”

  “I thought that might be the case,” says Etho, nodding. “Your eyes were all glassy and white. I’ve been in a death loop before and even though it wasn’t a void one, I know how it feels to get your code scrambled up like that. X said he only just managed to salvage everything the void tore up.” 

  Tango shivers. “I could’ve died permanently today, couldn’t I?”

  “...yeah, you could’ve.” Etho gives a reassuring smile. “But you didn’t. And don’t worry, if this ever happens again, I’ll save you.” 

  Tango gazes at Etho. One of the things that sticks out in his mind about when he was plucked out of the void is the way Etho’s voice cracked when he yelled at Xisuma to help him pull Tango up. Tango has never heard Etho’s voice crack like that before. That’s how he knows Etho was truly terrified back there, perhaps terrified at the thought of losing him forever. 

  But he doesn’t bring this up. Instead, he smiles. 

  “Thank you, Etho.”

[skybiome]

My life, freely given.

tw: panic attack, narration that implies suicidal thinking

---

Techno rubs at the bracelet on his right wrist. Everyone on the server has one. It's a plain, black metal band with three green gems set into it. Well, they start with three gems. Not everyone has three any more.

Death is common on the server. Hell, Techno’s communicator has been alerting him of Quackity dying about once every couple of hours to creepers for the last few days. But normal dying and respawning wasn’t enough for this server. No. In Dream’s own words, if someone died in a ‘plot important fashion’, it sticks. And if they die three times, they might not come back. 

That’s what had happened to Wilbur. The black band is still on Ghostbur's wrist every time Techno sees him, but the gems are cracked and grayed out. The same goes for two of the stones on Tommy’s bracelet. 

Techno reaches into his inventory and pulls out an iron dagger. It’s edge is dulled, mostly because he uses it to make cuts in planks of wood when bored, but he found something interesting a few days ago. Carefully, he sticks the tip of the dagger under the edge of his leftmost gemstone. A little wiggle and it pops out of its setting.

A shiver runs down his spine, despite his heavy winter gear. Techno holds the life in his hand. It’s warm and fragile. He closes his fist around the gem as Tommy’s yelling echos up from his space below Techno’s house. 

The older sibling closes his eyes, sighs, and lets his head thump against the wall behind him. He’s glad that his little brother couldn’t hear the war that his logic and emotions were fighting between his ears. Only the stragglers of the war fought now, with the leading ideals already having come to an agreement and made peace.

Allies are always good, especially if it meant that his family stayed safe. Techno rubs his thumb over the green gem once more. He stood up from where he was sitting on the crafting table and climbed down the ladders to Tommy’s room. 

“Heyyyyy, Big T!”

Techno feels a smile slide onto his face. He let it. Tommy is now wearing an antarctic empire uniform. He didn’t need to know that Techno had stayed up for 3 days straight to finish it after he’d first realized that Tommy was staying with him. It was much better suited for the cold weather than the scraps of clothing that his little brother had shown up wearing. 

“Hey, Tommy.” His boots land heavy on the concrete. Tommy didn’t like it when he was silent around the house, so Techno has been putting an effort to go against his instinct and start making noise while traversing the cottage. 

Tommy sits up from where he’d been reclining on his bed. “What’re we doing today?”

“You aren’t doing much.” Techno raises his hand to cut off Tommy’s protests. “I’m going to go to L’manberg later, but you can stay here and take care of the turtles and bees. Can I see your arm?”

Tommy frowns, but holds his arm out to Techno.

“Other one.”

Tommy swaps arms, and Techno rolls up his brother’s sleeve, revealing the band on his wrist. The elder reaches into his inventory and pulls out the knife. He stops when Tommy yanks his arm out of his gentle grip. His little brother slams into the cobblestone with enough force to make Techno flinch. 

Techno’s eyes widen to match the dinner plates of his brother’s. Carefully, he sets the knife down on the floor, and shows Tommy that his hands are empty. Techno can see tremors running through Tommy’s form, even through his layers of clothing. His breath is coming in short, raspy gasps

Techno purposely softens his voice and face, apologizing and saying, “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you what I was doing. It won’t happen again.”

Tommy blinks a few times. He blinks again and actually sees his brother instead of someone else. The tension syphons out of his shoulders and Tommy averts his gaze from Techno, shrinking into himself even more. His breathing is still shaky and uneven.

“I’m sorry.”

Techno shook his head and lowered his hands, but keeping them in Tommy’s view. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Tommy. I promise.” He ignored the dampness around his brother’s eyes.

Tommy doesn’t say anything, but he does swallow and unclench his jaw. 

“Can I see your arm again? I won’t hurt you.”

Again, Tommy says nothing. He holds his arm out to Techno, eyes closed, and lets a harsh breath out through his nose, like he’s bracing for something to hurt him. 

Techno retrieves the dagger from the floor. Carefully, he turns Tommy’s arm over so that the lives on his bracelet are visible. Two of the gemstones are cracked and gray, stark in contrast to the one green gem, the boy’s one remaining life. Pressing the tip of the blade one of the lost lives’ edges, Techno removes it. He slips the life he took from himself into the notch on Tommy’s wrist. 

The older brother knows it’s worked when the younger inhales sharply, eyes snapping open. Techno lets go as Tommy withdraws his arm. He stares at the gem with wide eyes. 

Tommy’s breath grows unsteady, and he starts shaking again. He’s clutching his right wrist with his left hand. There are tears in his eyes, but a grin is splitting his face. Before Techno can even open his mouth, Tommy’s arms are wrapped around him.  

With a flick of the wrist, the dagger is out of Techno’s hand and in his hotbar. Techno doesn’t register what Tommy is doing, but he knows he shouldn’t have the weapon that close to him. A second later, he feels that Tommy is shuttering against his chest. Techno hesitates, and then returns the hug. They stay there for a minute, Tommy rattling in Techno’s arm’s, face buried in the fur of brother’s cape.

Tommy breaks the embrace first. He shoots upright, one hand on Techno’s shoulder and the other wiping tears off his cheeks. He’s so ecstatic that he’s tripping over his words.

“Techno Techno Techno where did you- how did you- how did you get this?” Tommy’s gaze is bouncing between his brother and the new life he’s been given. He grips his wrist and pushes the gemstone into Techno’s face, like he wasn’t just the one who'd given it to him. “Where did you get this?”

Techno lifts his wrist, showing Tommy his bracelet. “I gave you one of mine.”

Something in his chest grows cold as Tommy’s expression falls. Tommy freezes, and then starts clawing at his wrist. Techno lunges forward, grabbing Tommy by the wrist. He cringes as Tommy freezes in his grasp. A moment later, Tommy shakes it off, and fights against Techno.

“I can’t take this, Techno.” Tommy’s eyes are frantic and his breathing is picking up again.

“You aren’t taking it, Tommy. I’m giving it to you.”

Tommy stops fighting his brother’s hold. Techno can still see his hands twitching, wanting to pull the live out of himself.

“Tommy, look at me.”

After a moment of staring at the band on his wrist, Tommy turns his head towards Techno. He’s looking at his brother’s face, but won’t look him in the eyes. 

“You’re not taking anything from me.” Techno removes a hand from Tommy’s wrist and sets it under his brother’s chin. Gently, Techno lifted Tommy’s gaze until their eyes met. “This is my life, freely given to you. I expect nothing in return, except for you to use it to its fullest. Do you understand?”

Tommy blinks, with tears in his eyes. “Yeah,” he croaked.

“Good.” Techno nods and releases Tommy’s other wrist. He hesitates, and then rustles his hand through his brother’s hair. Tommy jumps at the contact. He blinks twice. A smile breaks onto his face, and he lets out the most infectious laughter that Techno knows. Techno joins in. Next thing he knows, Tommy is moving past him and already halfway up the ladder, yelling, “Now we’re on even playing fields!”

Techno barks a laugh and follows after his brother into their home. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Tommy.”

“Yes it is!” 

Techno can hear his chests opening and closing, and let himself indulge in the warm feeling in his chest. Tommy’s starting to recover, and he’s going to help his brother however he can. He thumbs the empty spot on his band, and then moves onto one of his two remaining lives. Phil’s band only had space for one life, but there was someone Tommy cared about who was in danger. But that could wait a few days. Right now, he wants to spend time with his brother.

Even if it involves a lot of cobblestone towers on his front lawn. 

[votederpycausemufins]

no, you know what, next chapter now! remember this is chapter 3 of this war arc thing so if you didn’t read chapter 2 since i posted it like 5ish hours ago, go read that first. look! here’s some links!

Chap 1   Chap 2

Hey, can you tell I like grian? cause today i’m using Avian!Grian, Watcher!Grian and Triplet!Grian all together. 

Next chapter is gonna be a flashback based loosely on the fic @strawberrylemonz wrote of the triplets in the Antarctic empire.

but for now, have a sprinkling of angst. or maybe more than just a sprinkling.

When Tommy opened his eyes again, he found himself with all the Hermits in the town hall. A few Hermits that were already there like Zedaph brought out potions and food and other items for everyone to recover. Nearby Grian was shaking out the water that got on his wings from the emergency button being used.

“How’re ya doing Big G?” Tommy asked as he walked over, grabbing another mask of his own face from the table.

“Fine, what about you Tommy?”

“Dream kinda saw me right before the button got pressed. But he didn’t get a chance to hit me.” Immediately Grian was acting like a mother hen towards him and Tommy had to push the avian away. “Grian! I’m fine!”

“Are you sure? Because Techno and d- Philza were also there.”

“Yeah, I heard you confronted them.” Tommy softened his voice, noticing the look of pain on Grian’s face.

“Neither of them recognized me. I mean, it makes sense since it’s been so long for me and I look so… different.”

Tommy hugged Grian. He didn’t believe it when he learned that this was his missing older brother, but when Grian used his real name, something he shouldn’t have known, Tommy changed his mind. “Hey, c’mon, once this is all over you can brag about being the oldest now.”

Grian laughed and ruffled Tommy’s hair. “Yeah, and you look as old as Techno did out there.”

“No I don’t, he’s an old fart!” Tommy complained. “I’m still a teen!”

“You’re twenty-one!”

“I’m a child!”

Grian laughed. When Tommy had first shown up, he did everything to seem older than he was, now he refused to admit he’d grown up. “C’mon, let’s just-” He was cut off by a buzzing from their communicators. The two of them looked around and noticed the other hermits were doing the same. Everyone was here, so it couldn’t be a death message.

Xisuma tapped his helmet and everyone saw the glow of him looking at the communications chat. “Iskall, someone named Fundy is saying they’re at your tree.”

The redstoner immediately messed with his robotic eye to look at his own chat. His other eye widened and he equipped his elytra. “I’m going to go after him. I doubt it would be an ambush, there’s no way they could have gotten a whole group there while we were fighting.”

Rendog also put his elytra on. He said he would go with Iskall as some extra muscle just to be safe. The two of them flew off, careful to stay out of range of anyone in Dream’s army before heading toward the Omega Tree.

“Hey, now that they know I’m here, should we use me more as bait?” Tommy spoke up, causing Grian to pull him closer.

“Absolutely not. Any mistake and you could be captured!”

Before Tommy could complain, False spoke up. “Actually, it’s a good plan. You helped him learn to fly so he’s great at it. He’ll have no trouble escaping into the air. And he can also set up another pearl if they do capture him. Someone can watch in the sky and send word if he needs rescue.”

“But what if he-” Grian tried to speak up, but Tommy stopped him.

“Grian, I know these people. It would work. And I know how to get out of tough situations. And I’m not going to be the only one down there. Doesn’t make sense to send me there alone.

Reluctantly, Grian let Tommy go. The blond smiled and then gave his brother one last hug before pulling his mask on and leaving with a group of Hermits. All of them placed ender pearls in the emergency button and then left the town hall through bubble columns. Grian watched them go before following behind to be their eyes in the sky. Cub came with him, his vex wings still there from his earlier confrontation with Dream.

When the Hermits suddenly reappeared, Dream was ready for them. Instead of an axe, he held a sword. Whenever a Hermit got close, he would injure them and then use the long blade to pull off or break their mask. Tommy was going to be there, under one of those masks. And when Dream saw his sorry face next, he would drag the teen back home.

Dream heard a grunt from behind him and glanced back to see Philza with his weapon clashing with a hermit’s sword. Even with the mask, Dream could see the silver hair of said hermit. Dream may not have been familiar with their enemy as much as he wished, but there was one well known name he recognized. Etho. While Philza was a man who had lived years on hardcore, Etho had been living on a single world for longer. Both were very experienced men. 

In his distraction, a hermit attacked Dream. He deflected their attack but in the process managed to hinder his teammate and suddenly Philza was killed. Dream attacked back, and while the Hermit who attacked him got away, Etho did not, having been left on a single heart when Phil died, only being alive from Dream’s mistake.

But he didn’t have time to dwell as more attacks came from the hermits. Once they had defeated these people, he could take over as admin and bring them back.

Philza gasped as he woke up on the bed, energy flowing through him from respawning. It wasn’t something he was used to, and before he almost didn’t link with the bed. When he started to get up, he heard rustling and immediately turned to fight. But no one was there, which was fine as his death had left him with no gear. Phil could hear fighting from outside the building and he quickly looked in the various chests for anything.

Philza ended up breaking part of the building for sticks and made himself a sword with the diamonds they found earlier, even finding more of the gem in chests they hadn’t bothered to check before. It wasn’t enough for a full set of gear, but it was enough. The only problem was trying to put on his chestplate, Phil finally noticed what happened. 

It was impossible. They had been too damaged and the last time he had to respawn, nothing had happened. But there, right on his back were his wings, undamaged. Not a single feather was harmed or scorched or missing. 

A shout from outside drew Philza’s attention back to the battle. He nearly put his wings away to put on his chest plate when he remembered how their enemy had elytra. He was the only one on their side who could fly. Phil stored the chest plate in a nearby barrel for later and left the building through the open roof. None of the hermits seemed to notice him until it was too late and his weapon cut into them. There were one or two of those from the smp who attacked him before realizing who exactly they were seeing, but otherwise, the reappearance of his wings was appreciated.

When Tommy saw his dad in the air, he couldn’t help but stare for a moment. He had told Xisuma about the situation of his dad. At first he thought that Philza had completely lost his wings, which would make sense why a respawn couldn’t help. But since he still had them, the admin was able to set a trigger for the avian’s wings to heal when he respawned. It was a risk that could help Dream, but Tommy hoped that the return of Phil’s wings would help him switch sides.

The sight invigorated Tommy and he was slashing at his old friends left and right. He managed to catch sight of False nearby and Techno fighting so he moved over to assist her. It was perfect timing as False managed to be cornered and Techno proclaimed the kill for the blood god just before Tommy could manage to remove the weapon from his brother’s hand.

“Leave her alone.” Tommy said as Techno glared up at him. He had hit a growth spurt while in hermitcraft and his voice deepened, so Tommy wasn’t surprised that his brother didn’t recognise him. Behind him False got up and ate a gold apple as well as splashing a potion over her own head, a bit of the liquid managing to splash onto Tommy, giving him a few seconds of healing.

But as Tommy stood to cover his head, Dream joined next to Techo and sliced the mask off Tommy’s face. When it fell, Tommy could clearly see the slight surprise on Techno’s face. While the warrior wasn’t that expressive, growing up with him made it easier for Tommy to read his face. Dream on the other hand grinned so large his smile could be seen out the sides of his mask.

Before Tommy could react, his arm was grabbed in a crushing grip from Dream. False in a panic simply yelled Tommy’s name, which ended up bringing the attention of the rest of the SMP members.

False swung her sword at Dream, giving Tommy just enough of a gap to use a firework and launch himself into the air. Dream called for the smp members to focus on Tommy and suddenly arrows were flying at him. With another rocket he flew further into the air. Looking down, Tommy saw an arrow coming towards him. He attempted to dodge, but it clipped his elytra, leaving a small tear in one wing. 

A few more arrows also managed to reach him. When he wasn’t sure he could dodge them, the blond tried to make sure they directly hit him. Tommy had plenty of healing items and had nice armor, but if his elytra were too damaged, no amount of armor would help a fall like that.

Then, the thing he feared most happened. As he flew, rain started to fall. A few moments later there was the sound of a riptide trident being used. He turned to see Punz, having used his trident to get just close enough then he pulled out a crossbow and shot it. There was no time for Tommy to react and it went through one wing of his elytra. As Punz descended, Tommy tried to use fireworks to push him towards the ocean, but in his panic, all he did was push himself further up into the air. And then the elytra gave up on him and Tommy started to fall. 

Philza heard the noise of a trident as the rain started to fall. He looked around in the air just in time to see Punz’s arrow destroy Tommy’s elytra followed by what sounded like Tommy calling for help. While he had trouble getting used to flying again after months of being grounded, Phil immediately flapped his wings as hard and as fast as he could. He refused to lose another child. So he pushed himself to get to Tommy before the worst could happen.

Grian wasn’t sure how he missed Tommy flying into the air, but he didn’t miss his brother screaming his name. He looked down to see Tommy falling, his elytra in shreds. He saw another avian flying towards his fallen brother. Grian knew that he was the only avian of the hermits so this other person had to be working with Dream. 

As Grian pulled his wings in to dive towards Tommy, he realized he wouldn’t be able to make it. Sure there was enough time to reach Tommy before he hit the ground, but not enough before Tommy was grabbed by the other avian. As he continued to fall, Grian closed his eyes. He searched for something he buried deep inside himself. The red, yellow and blue feathers on his wings changed to purple, black and salt & pepper. When he next opened his eyes, there were 6 of them, all glowing a purple color. He opened his wings once more and gave a mighty flap, sending magical energy out through them and creating what sounded like thunder as the expelled energy propelled him faster towards Tommy. 

Just before the other avian could reach his brother, Grian’s arms wrapped around Tommy and the wings wrapped around both of them. He didn’t have enough time to use more energy and teleport them away or slow them down, so he just braced himself. Then they hit the ground, all the force going into Grian’s wings. It was painful, but right now he didn’t care. The adrenalin from nearly losing Tommy was kicking in and the pain made his mind hazy. 

The powers he had gained from being a watcher were dangerous and something he usually kept blocked off so he wouldn’t lose himself in it, but right now, with his current state, he wasn’t thinking of that, and slowly the previously locked away powers grew more dangerous and tempting.

Dream held his breath as Tommy fell. He didn’t want them to have come all this way for Tommy to lose his last life here. Luckily Phil was in the air, racing towards his son. He was sure that the Avian would reach Tommy until there was the sound of thunder and the sky lit up with a purple light. The figure that was lit up made his blood run cold. No. It wasn’t possible. A watcher. And not just any watcher. The Dreamslayer himself was a watcher. In a way it made sense how this would be the one person who seemed to be able to kill him, but knowing the full power he held was not a happy thought.

Dream managed to get his army to retreat just far enough in time that no one ended up in the destruction of Grian crash landing. Everyone stared, no one moved. Even the Hermits looked terrified of their own ally. Phil landed safely and tried to move to the crater, but Dream grabbed him. Techno was the next to move as The wings parted revealing Tommy hidden beneath them. Again, Dream tried to stop him, but Techno was further than Phil had been. While Techno had recently been staying out of things, Dream didn’t want to lose someone who was so good at making his stories perfect.

Techno held out his axe, ready to strike Grian, but the avian watcher just grabbed the blade of the axe. His head looked up and all six eyes focused on the weapon, each of them blinking out of sync. He only stopped looking when Tommy groaned, while he was physically uninjured, the rush of falling and the rapid pressure changes as well as the energy from Grian had caused him to pass out.

Techno pulled his weapon back, unsure if he should strike again. Half of the voices were telling him to attack and kill this person who took his brother, but the other half seemed to actually want him to stop. But the first half was louder and he swung the axe down again. Time seemed to slow down as he saw the supposed avian look back up and smile hauntingly. He resolved himself and cried out, “Blood for the Blood God!” as he put more force into the swing.

The moment the axe blade hit Grian’s skull, it shattered. Around them people started moving. A quick glance let Techno see the Hermits moving the smp army away, trying to protect their enemies. Looking back at his own enemy, Techno was met with Grian standing up. He spoke, but instead of his own voice, Grian spoke in Techno’s voice. He parroted the line the pvper had just spoken, only saying it louder and louder.

“Blood for the Blood God! Blood for the Blood God!!! Blood for the Blood God!!!” And then, in his normal voice, he shouted once more. “BLOOD FOR ME!!!”

[mamahersh]

The Road to Hell (is Paved with Good Intentions) Chapter 7

“Season 8 was well underway, and the server’s first conflict is bubbling just under the surface. But BDoubleO can’t worry about that right now because he has an Etho to find so they can work on the Horse Course together. However when Xisuma calls a surprise server meeting on behalf of EvilXisuma, BDubs gets his answers about where Etho’s been in the worst way possible.”

(CW: angst, mild torture)

Chapter rating: T

Nice long conclusion chapter to make up for the short one yesterday! From BDubs view, plus nHo hurt/comfort (emphasis on comfort)!

As in all the previous chapter posts, if you’ve enjoyed the ride I took direct inspiration from this oneshot on AO3! Please give them some love and appreciation.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

It had taken days before Xisuma figured out what EX had done to the server that had caused the respawns to break in the way that it had, and how to fix it. However, figure it out and fix the problem he did, and with respawn mechanics back to normal, everyone who had died and respawned during the glitch was able to reset their health completely. And properly set their respawn points as well, since part of the glitch seemed to be that people’s respawns were being set as they were dying. But the biggest adjustment in the days after EX had caused havoc was trying to help Etho recover.

While Etho seemed relatively ok once he was able to talk again (his tongue and all his other lingering injuries were fully healed with the fixing of the respawn, though figuring out a way to get him to respawn was both more difficult and less difficult than BDubs had expected); BDubs was hearing from Iskall that all was still not right with the world. Normally, Hermits would let current season basemates/regional allies/faction mates do the heavy lifting of any emotional or mental stress that a particular Hermit experienced on the daily unless the Hermit asked for help from specific Hermits. But in this case, BDubs felt he should invite Etho to an nHo reunion/get-together. Even if Etho didn’t necessarily need the reunion, BDubs knew the rest of the nHo did. 

They had all been in various states of hysterics by the time they had gotten Etho out of the restraints and the death loop he had been locked in. BDubs had been the first person to breach the room, with Iskall and Beef right behind him. Beef had blocked up the water to stop the cycle as Iskall and a recently arrived Cleo began breaking restraints while BDubs clutched Etho’s freed hand (thinking back, he probably shouldn’t have. Etho’s hands had looked hardly better than the rest of his mangled flesh. He also wasn’t sure how they managed to get his wrists detached from the cuffs, as his arms and wrists were still solidly clipping into the restraints). Hypno had fiddled with the camera and looked over the speakers, before he managed to get everything deactivated and convinced the remaining Hermits to gather at Cleo and Joe’s base. By the time the Hermits were assembled at Joe and Cleo’s base, and Etho had been safely transported from the floating box, Doc was a hissing mess, Beef was greener than normal as his stress seemed to activate the alien transition, and BDubs had resorted to constantly checking his clock (a nervous habit he had picked up from 3rd Life, but the less he thought about that hell server the better). Etho had been quickly whisked away by Iskall to their shared base, but was just as quickly relocated to the Spawn Egg; as neither had wings, and Etho wasn’t nearly healthy enough to try and scale his own base in the sky. Plus, being at the Spawn Egg had the added benefit of easy access by the rest of the server so that other Hermits could stop by and check in on Etho’s progress while they all waited for Xisuma to fix the respawn mechanics. BDubs stopped by once while Etho was recovering. It was a little out of his way when trying to visit the Yes Wings Club, but figured he might as well since he hadn’t seen Etho since they had saved him 2 days before. 

Etho looked about what he had expected to be honest. Since they were worried about whether a normal respawn would register his tongue being gone as normal if they healed it properly with potions, the other Hermits had determined to wait on healing him till after he had properly respawned. That left him bedridden till the server was fixed though, which no one was happy with. BDubs was told later that supposedly Etho had understood during the few times he was lucid enough to listen to someone during that time. While he had been there though, Etho had been solidly asleep, Iskall asleep himself by Etho’s bedside. BDubs had taken a moment anyway to sit on Etho’s other side and just quietly talk to him about what he had been up to in the day or two since they had saved him. Iskall had come to briefly to see who had been talking, before settling back into his chair to rest.

BDubs had left pretty quickly, if he were being honest. Seeing Etho as vulnerable as he was left BDubs feeling a bit ill. After that, it had only been a day or two more of anxiously waiting for Xisuma to fix the server before they had been able to get the other Hermits respawned properly. (There had been several deaths during the time the respawns had been on the fritz, including a couple during the search from fall damage.) But when it came to Etho, they had tried to explain what needed to happen during one of the next times he was awake, but he had been becoming more unresponsive the longer he had been bedbound. So with heavy hearts, it had been decided that Etho needed to respawn as soon as they could decide a way to do so. After much debate between Iskall and Xisuma, it was decided that a quick anvil to the head would suffice.

It was told to BDubs later that Etho had respawned a few paces from the bed he had been sleeping in at Spawn looking incredibly confused and lost. It took close to a half hour to explain what had happened to him before him and Iskall went back to their shared base. And if Iskall was to be believed, it sounded like Etho hadn’t slept since the first night back. Which was almost a week ago. Not that many of the other Hermits were doing better. From the sounds of the grapevine, Mumbo still blamed himself for what had happened to Etho, and despite apologizing and promising Etho a cut of all his profits that season to make up for his decision (which he had been told Etho had forgiven Mumbo for and told Mumbo to keep the profits as he was just respecting Etho’s choice) he insisted on trying to find ways to make it up to an increasingly exasperated Etho. (Which BDubs noted was somewhat out of character, since Etho almost never missed a chance to keep someone in his debt and exploit them for his own projects). Other than Mumbo, Doc had been reported also to not have been sleeping as much, but instead he worked on his most recent engineering marvel. Beef had been throwing himself almost entirely into setting up his own shop outside the Derpcoin market to sell his own brand of non-evil cat food. BDubs knew that Beef was taking the whole: “Derpcoin is actually evil not even a meme” thing incredibly hard, since his whole thing this season had been going over to the dark-side as an alien (which BDubs still didn’t understand how that had started in the first place). BDubs himself was doing just fine thank you very much! Sure, he’d been struggling with sleeping at night himself (every time he closed his eyes he could see Etho strapped to that chair and drowning again), and yeah, he’d been trying to work on the shopping district by the mountain instead of the Horse Course (he had heard from Iskall that Etho had been working on something outside the base, and BDubs had a sneaking suspicion he knew at least one of the projects Etho’d been working on). But he definitely wasn’t nearly as bad as the other members of the old nHo. Definitely. He couldn’t lie to himself, they were all having a bad time. 

So, as BDubs was wont to do, he took things into his own hands and sent invitations to all the nHo members to come by his base for a get together. The date was set, and he visited every member in person leading up to the event to make sure they were coming, no excuses! (He knew it was particularly urgent as when he went to check on Etho, he finally found him sleeping in one of BDubs’ builds next to the horse course, and when he got Etho awake, he cracked exactly 0 height jokes until he tried to get Etho to come by later and it was a height joke every minute. The height jokes were BDubs’ way of figuring out how nicely Etho wanted to play. The less the better.)

But now the day had finally arrived, and BDubs welcomed each one of his friends into his base with open arms and a smile. First to arrive was Beef, seeing as he was closest. Then Doc. Then as BDubs was debating messaging Iskall to find Etho for him, the man himself showed up on BDubs’ doorstep. Everything went off without a hitch in the beginning. They all were able to reconnect and chat about bases and projects they were working on; Doc with his redstone magic he was getting from his friends on another server, Beef and his efforts to create a new kind of cat food, Etho and his many projects ranging from an inventory sorter to the horse course, and BDubs with his latest shop attempts in the Big Eye Crew shopping district. (It was good to see Etho making fun of BDubs’ attempts at making a redstone shop. Etho hadn’t heard of it yet, and it was a delight to see him light up while joking about what BDubs could possibly make with redstone that even someone like Grian couldn’t do themselves.)

It all comes crashing down when Etho asks Beef more about the cat food. Specifically what was wrong with the old cat food. 

Now Beef hadn’t expressly said that he had been working with EX for having a cat food stand at the Evil Emporium; but he had implied that his previous cat food flavor would be going on the back burner. What they all had assumed was that Etho at least generally knew most of the gossip on the server. But what BDubs should have guessed was that Etho had been very absent this season, and unless the current events were directly affecting his plans, he had never been one for being up to date on server events. So BDubs should have guessed that Etho asking about cat food would only end in a bittersweet ending.

“So Beefers, you said something about your cat food getting a new recipe… What happened with the old recipe? Not up to snuff?”

“I will have you know that all my cat food is premium and delicious, and I will not have you slandering it in this way,” replied an overdramatic Beef. 

The nHo chuckled at his antics before Etho came back with, “Well if it wasn’t the quality then what was it? Now you have me intrigued.”

Beef shrugged. “I just wanted a cat food to really call my own is all.”

Etho gave him a look. “Wouldn’t the other cat food be yours too?”

“Well…” Beef looked deeply conflicted. BDubs decided to say it for him. “He was working for the Evil Emporium since he started to change into… I guess it’s an alien?”

Etho stilled at the name, and the rest of the group held their breaths. “Ah,” he replied, suddenly tight as a bowstring.

“Which is why I’m making a new brand of cat food, one which I’ll be selling from a shop near my base for diamonds,” soothed Beef, trying his best to keep Etho away from bad memories.

“I can see why you changed brands then,” replied Etho through a forced calm. He was not subtle in the least however. Bdubs wondered if the hurt in Etho's eyes was from the idea that his closest friend had supported the monster that had hurt him, or the idea that his friend would completely change his plans for the season due to one off script incident? Bdubs had a feeling it was definitely the former.

(BDubs had asked Xisuma after all was said and done if he remembered anything leading up to them being in front of the screen at his base. X had said the last thing he had remembered before that was meeting up with EvilX to discuss business strategies before blacking out after their customary greetings. He explained it had happened before, but he had somehow never thought much of the memory gaps. However, he agreed with the rest of the Hermits that had talked with him about it that it was a problem that would need to be investigated because it sounded like mind control. And a player that could control the server admin was a force too powerful to allow free. Or at the very least, a player that needed to have some very hard limits as to what they could do placed upon them.)

“You know, Etho, have you been ok?” asked Doc hesitantly. BDubs hoped that Doc knew what he was doing, because Bdubs was definitely lost.

Etho looked a bit like a cornered animal at the moment as he looked between the 3 of them like they had betrayed him. “Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?”

Doc gave him a look that BDubs thought was completely justified. “Etho, you went through an incredibly traumatic experience only a week or so ago. It is completely fine if you aren't doing ok.”

Etho sighed. “And what would you even do if I wasn't ok?”

Doc gave a hissy whine and moved from where he had been situated to sit close beside Etho. “Well, we'd figure out what we can do to make it a little closer to being ok.” He looked down at his lap. “I know I've been struggling with sleep recently, so I understand at least if you aren't sleeping either.” Etho looked vaguely stricken.

“You were part of the group that was watching, weren't you?” BDubs watched as Etho began to close off. Doc just nodded miserably. “And the two of you?”

BDubs felt gutted, knowing that Etho either didn't remember him breaking in to save him and holding his hand; or was purposefully ignoring the memory. “I stopped you from drowning more by blocking up the source block...” muttered Beef, looking pretty hurt himself.

“I found your enclosure and got the search party together to come finish breaking you out; and was there next to Beef when he was saving you,” finished Bdubs, a bit more of the hurt shining through because he couldn't hold a poker face even if his life depended on it. But also, Etho needed to see that he wasn't alone, in a lot of ways.

Etho looked appropriately chastised, if also incredibly grateful. “Thank you, all of you.” He leaned lightly into Doc's shoulder; the most affection he would normally show to anyone. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you 3, so thank you. Thank you so much.” They all politely ignored the sniffling coming from behind the mask, though Beef situated himself on Etho’s other side, and BDubs decided to try and strategically place himself on the floor in front of Beef so that if Etho wanted to lean a leg against him, he could. BDubs was so tempted to drape himself over Etho’s legs, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Etho probably wouldn’t handle being immobile in a sitting position well for the foreseeable future. However he was vindicated when his hair was playfully ruffled by an Etho hand as the 4 of them devolved into just sitting with each other. 

BDubs should have guessed that Etho wouldn’t stay down long however, as Etho (after inconspicuously wiping the corners of his eyes dry) said, “so, who wants to help me prank the Boatem Crew?” BDubs could feel the devious smile creeping across his face.

“Now you’re speaking my language Canada boy!” Etho wheezed a quiet laugh above him. 

“You sure you want to be slinging that kind of slander at me short stuff?”

“SHORT STUFF?!?!” BDubs got up in a huff. “I’LL SHOW YOU SHORT STUFF, YOU DAMN BEAN POLE!” Beef, Etho, and Doc all burst into chuckles, leaning into the couch as they tried to get themselves under control. “YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, DO YOU? Ooooooh, you are all playing a dangerous game!”

Etho and Doc proceeded to laugh harder, leaning against each other. “What are you going to do BDubs, bite our ankles?” asked Beef before breaking down laughing again. 

“I’LL BITE YOUR ANKLES JUST WATCH ME!” and with that, BDubs was all over Beef, trying to get a solid shoulder punch in, but being thwarted at every turn. A stray punch at Doc, and suddenly everyone but Etho was rolling around the floor trying to playfully murder each other. Etho wheezed in laughter at their antics, and expertly avoided getting added into their mischief by eventually hopping up a ladder to the next floor and watching from the opening.

Eventually they managed to settle down, and by the time they had gathered themselves enough, it was night time. BDubs, with a lighter heart than when he had let in all his friends earlier in the day, said goodbye to them with promises that if Etho really was serious about pranking the Boatem Crew, the nHo would be right by his side. They left one by one, first Doc (who complained that he was already behind schedule on his build), then Beef (who playfully recommended Etho come help him run his shop if he wasn’t too busy helping Iskall dye prismarine), and lastly Etho. But before Etho departed, he said, “you know, I already thanked you, but I feel I should do it again.” He met BDubs’ gaze. “Thank you so much for finding me. I don’t know how that would have ended if you hadn’t caught sight of that place”. 

BDubs was humbled by Etho’s gratitude, though he still replied with, “You’re my friend Etho, of course I would give it my all to find you. I’m just happy we were able to do so before it was too late. And if you ever need to get away from it all, it’s pretty nice out here once you get past all the big eyes.”

Etho wheezed a chuckle in response, a hidden smile brightening up the corners of his eyes. “Sure, I’ll keep that in mind. You take care of yourself now, you hear? I don’t want to be hearing of too many shenanigans from you, ok?”

BDubs laughed in response, and nodded. “Can do! And you do the same, ok?” He let the humor drain a bit, a more serious tone shining through. “If things get bad, please let someone know. Doc knows what happened, and he would be able to tell you who else was there that you could talk to if you needed it.”

Etho nodded. “Yeah, yeah. If it gets bad I always have Iskall and you guys.” Etho glanced at a clock in his inventory. “Looks like I should be off. If I start now, I should be able to get back before sunrise.” Etho waved goodbye as he turned to go.

“Stay safe! I’ll see you around then,” called out BDubs as he watched Etho quickly jog to the nearest source of water. Then, once acquired, he flew with the flick of his trident, starting his way back to the nether portal so as to make it back to his base safely.

BDubs went to bed that night content knowing that if Etho ever needed the help, he knew who he could reach out to.

-fin-

[hollenka99]

The Life and Times of TommyInnit

Summary: Tommy was born into a loving family. He dies long before he should have with no-one there to help him.

Warnings: Death, abuse, manipulation, violence

Tommy is born into a loving family. He has grandparents, an abundance of aunts and uncles, not to mention even more cousins. All of them ready to welcome the newest member of their family with affection. In the first week or two of his life, a number of his neighbours from their village make brief visits too. When he learns to walk then subsequently run, his father prepares to tell him once he's older of how he regretted letting Tommy discover his legs. Permitting his son to figure out how to control his mouth and tongue in a way that forms words is something else he will one day jokingly claim he shouldn't have done either. If the little boy isn't playing with nearby cousins or local children his age, he is making himself heard. Most of the time, he does both. Tommy is an incredibly happy toddler. It comes to an abrupt end during the late autumn he is three. Pillagers arrive and with them comes trouble. Both of Tommy's parents are good fighters. In a world like this where danger could appear from any dark corner, you somewhat have to be. But Tommy is far too young to have their skills imparted upon him through lessons in their garden like he was due to begin years from now. So his mother takes several supplies, grabs him and leaves him a relatively safe distance away. On a hill overlooking their village, he is handed an iron sword and instructed to stay safe while he waits. She tells him it will be all over by nightfall, that the weapon is only a precaution, that she loves him and will be back soon. A peck on the forehead is the last interaction they will ever have because unfortunately for everyone involved, these pillagers have developed a tactic to deal with those who are harder to suppress. His parents and their families before them have traveled far from a place known as Spawn. With no sufficient bed to rely on anymore, anyone who doesn't permanently fall to an arrow will be too far to interfere as it is. Night does come with no rescue for the three year old in sight. His parents are fine, they're still resisting the assault on the place they call home, but from the darkness mobs arise with the intent to harm any individual unfortunate to cross their path. Tommy is one such individual. He had been advised to make a hole in the dirt if worse came to worst but he has no time to do so when faced with the skeleton that will destroy the life he knew. When he respawns, he wakes an inconceivable distance from home. His parents will look, oh how they will search, but it will all be for naught. He will grow up with no real recollection of them and no awareness of how the initial realisation that he is truly gone causes them to crumble. By the time an 11 year old boy with a brown fringe long enough to potentially warrant a trim stumbles upon him, spring is starting to get underway. Tommy himself isn't quite sure how he managed to survive the winter months. There was a great deal of trespassing on people's property and eating whatever he could get his hands on though, he knows that. Yet here was this much older boy speaking gently, offering shelter and decent meals if Tommy trusted him enough to follow him back home. He risks allowing himself to take this chance. Besides, he's made himself into a child that's faster and more agile than a stranger would expect from someone his age, all for the sake of survival. If really necessary, he could escape back to this spot by the stream and find a new place where 'Wilbur' can't find nor hurt him. He tells himself as they walk that he's only going because he's being living in a state of perpetual hunger, cold and with an anxiety he can't place because it hasn't left him since he first respawned. Gaining a few hours' reprieve from that can't be an awful idea, right? The truth is that he is on the cusp of 4 (although he had no way of knowing this) and he needs someone to take care of him, he should not be responsible for his own survival at this age. So yes, he goes with Wilbur, meets the boy's winged father, gets handed a mushroom stew which he scarfs down too quickly for his stomach not to ache shortly thereafter before being directed to Wilbur's bed for the night where he cries because wow, this truly seems like luxury after months on the ground. Phil and Wilbur insist that he remains in their care. With nothing to lose, he doesn't say no. Before getting separated from his family, he had been an only child who hoped for his parents to give him a sibling. They hadn't, at least not by the time the raid happened. Wilbur, however, was the brother he had longed to have. Better yet, Wilbur was older so the responsibility of being the eldest fell on him rather than Tommy. He could be a nuisance and, so long as he didn't push his luck too much, he was allowed to get away with it for the most part. Phil wasn't always present as a father figure so that role subsequently fell on Wilbur as well. His brother shows him a cave in a cliff face that he'd made his secondary base for when the rations Phil had left ran too low to last however long this trip would go on for. By the time Tommy is perhaps 8 or so, once Phil has met Technoblade and chosen to make the piglin his travel companion, he and Wilbur visit that cave so often it is practically their new home. No, that place was home. With its small fireplace, the colourful beds by the wall and sign declaring it theirs positioned next to the exterior of the front door, it was where he felt most safe. That is why, when the time came for him to leave in order to see more of the world than the view from the windows, his heart was afflicted by a bittersweet pang at the sight of it. He loves Wilbur, would follow him anywhere by this point. So when he shows up on the SMP, talking about making drugs in a van and fighting to gain freedom from tyrannical oppressors, Tommy can't help but be his ever loyal right hand man. He is 16 and ready to go down with a fight. He's made friends, Tubbo especially, all of whom are in it together. Until Eret decides they do not believe in the revolution. While dealing with the aftermath, Tommy's mind refuses to stop reminding him he was the one to press the button in that dreadful room. Perhaps if he hadn't but no... rationally, he knows full well someone else, likely Eret themself, would have simply done it instead. But when has trauma ever been rational? Besides, it's hardly like Eret's betrayal has ended the conflict so he hasn't got the time to dwell on what could have gone differently. He is a teenager who is down a life yet refuses to let that stop him. He challenges Dream with no intention of forfeiting his second life. He does anyway. Then L'Manburg finally wins the right to be free so any sacrifices he's made to get to this point are internally deemed worth it. By now, Dream has stolen two of his lives, reduced him to a point he's been more mortal than anyone his age should be. Tommy has suffered fatal trauma to his head and later bled out following a fight. There's a pattern here to be seen yet he'd rather ignore it. Dream's backed off anyway so what threat would he be? The owner of this place can return to the guy who enjoys the company of his friends, separate from Tommy and his own circle of friends, once more. Tommy will stay out of his way for obvious reasons however, there is less reason to now. A part of him hopes it will stay that way. He senses something has begun to change with Wilbur during the elections, That said, he isn't entirely sure and waves it off as the consequences of Wilbur leading the war effort. His excuses are not permitted to remain for long. Schlatt wins, they sprint away from the home they made only for Tommy to be left with the task of carrying Wilbur's invisible temporary corpse before the duo settle in a ravine he'd discovered. Pogtopia is where things truly go to shit, he thinks. Or perhaps they'd already been going downhill but their exile accelerated it all. Techno grows an abundance of those stupid potatoes shortly after his arrival and Dream is promising stacks of TNT for the sake of obliterating the newly rebranded Manberg. Meanwhile, Wilbur has gone off the rails in a big way. Try as he might, Tommy can't seem to figure out what the right words or actions to get him stop are. So Wilbur deteriorates further into paranoid, pyromaniacal madness. When things get worse and he wishes, though god knows he would never allow himself to openly admit it to anyone else, that he'd never left that faraway cliff face. Wilbur has them trespass on the festival in Manberg with the intent of it being the nation's final hour. All that comes to pass is Tommy watching his best friend be executed for being a spy then listening as Wilbur cheers while Technoblade triumphs over him in a fight. In a messed up way, he is somewhat glad when mid November comes. They fight, win, witness Schlatt's pathetic demise, feel as though they can look to a better future, lose Wilbur as well as a huge chunk of land, protect themselves against Techno's withers and get left with the task of rebuilding their home. It's an eventful day which Tommy is happy to leave behind him. Although, he isn't quite so pleased to deal with its aftermath. It's... two or maybe three weeks, he believes, before shit hits the fan as it inevitably was due to once again do. It would seem that Dream wasn't satisfied with messing with people's lives from the sidelines anymore. He drives a wedge between Tommy and Tubbo with his threat of sky-high walls, as if the weak points in their friendship were always easily accessible for the purposes of exploitation. Then he's being led away to a far off location with only the ghost of his brother and the man who will immediately take advantage of the situation for company. Ghostbur is nice yet Tommy yearns for him to be different, for him to keep his disarmed personality while regaining the memories that would allow for them to resolve the pain Wilbur left him with. Whatever... it's not like he stays. Dream confuses his mind with all his assurances of friendship as he robs him of his right to property. When it finally ends (on his own terms but thankfully not the ones he was planning to go through with hours before), he attempts to find a new beginning with Technoblade. He should have known it would end badly. Everything always seem to do so nowadays. Even L'Manburg. Or should he call it something akin to L'Mancrater after the events of Doomsday? He's pleasantly surprised when he is granted the ability to sit on the bench by his house, Tubbo by his side, and listen to the discs he's fought to regain for so long. He'd nearly lost so much in that room far below the earth. Part of him wonders if it's a cruel prank, whether something will come later in the week to say 'ha, look at you getting your hopes up'. It... doesn't. He begins work on his hotel with the help of Sam Nook. The tasks come across as menial and he complains yet finds them oddly satisfying. Nook is building the actual thing but he's playing his part. It's going to be great once it's finished. He's recruited Jack Manifold to assist in running the place, Tubbo is safe in Snowchester, the Egg stuff is dumb but if he keeps his head down it will hopefully leave him alone for the most part. He's ready for closure and moving on from the pain that's been constantly inflicted upon him over the past several months. He believes the best starting point is visiting Dream in prison one last time. Just one quick trip then he can carry on with his life. Nobody, least of all himself, has any idea how much of a mistake this will be. The final days of his life, as oblivious to them being so as he is, are miserable. He does his best to stay strong, to defy Dream's attempts at worming his way back into Tommy's head with his verbal poison. Sam must be sick of him given how many times he screams to be let out already when the possibility of Sam being within hearing range arises. He hates it here. He doesn't want to look at the lava which acts as the main source of illumination, he wishes the cell was less confining, all he can taste is the starch from the potatoes. Perhaps the worst part is not knowing how far into the week he is. Then Sam, the bastard, announces it's been 7 days but due to the security breach still going unresolved, Tommy will have to hold on a little longer. An argument erupts between the inmates. It begins to get physical when the subject of Schlatt's resurrection book is brought up. He acts so confident that he will survive this hellhole, that he will endure it out of spite for Dream as well as sheer defiance alone. But in the end, he's crying, begging, pleading for Dream to stop. In the end, he's simply a 16 year old kid who is getting beaten to death by the man who has been abusing him for months with no-one there to conceivably rescue him in time. He remembers Wilbur once explaining to him that life wasn't fair. Not quite in a 'life sucks and then you die' kind of way. More like 'life isn't easy, especially not for people like us who were put at a disadvantage early on, but you persevere with your best effort since life isn't obligated to care... and then you die'. Life wasn't fair when pillagers raided his village, when he was forced to survive on his own, when the only adult figure in his life left a kid in his early teens to raise him, when he watched the man he considered a brother lose his way, when his best friend was executed in front of him, when another adult manipulated others so that he would be vulnerable to abuse and it certainly wasn't going to be fair when he wanted some semblance of closure from all the shit he was put through. He wishes he could be 7 again, back when he could easily wriggle his way into Wilbur's bed on the other side of their makeshift cliff home and be comforted without any resistance. As much as he hated it, he longs for that dumb piece of carpet in the corner where Wilbur would make him sit if he made too much of nuisance of himself. His brother used to tease him and bemoan his behaviour when he was sent there but if Tommy ever became genuinely upset, Wilbur would quickly cut it out and apologise. He misses the coziness of it and all the fond memories of him and his big brother growing up on their own terms since they were the only family the other truly had. He wishes he could be laughing with Tubbo and the rest of their friends. He knows he hasn't been the most present recently but for good reason. His brain is tired of figuring out whether he's alright and even when it's offered a chance for serotonin, it's hesitant. That day after they beat Dream and retrieved the discs, he'd been filled with so much euphoria. The stress of that day's events and the weird place Wilbur's disembodied voice had temporarily sent him to aside, he'd been happy. It had only been some 5 or so weeks ago that Tommy had been hopeful and looking forward to what came next. He had the BigInnit Hotel to return to. God knows how it's been faring in his absence. His best guess is that Jack has probably taken control temporarily which was good. He was going to leave, take a second to breathe then get right back into managing the hotel. There were so many things he planned to do once he got out. Pranks on guests, the ridiculous amount of overpricing he wished to get away with, the feeling of doing an MLG water bucket trick off the top floor... it was going to be a good time. Was supposed to, anyway. Despite everything, he has experienced happiness time and time again. He's had friends who cared and were willing to help him in their own ways. Sam had been on his side... he thinks. No, he's sure Sam has just been busy with all that was on his plate this week. He hopes so since he doesn't think he could stomach another realisation that he's placed his trust in the wrong person. Besides, Sam Nook was Sam's creation and why would he put the effort in to make something to assist Tommy if he didn't actually care at least a little bit? No, no, he feels Sam is genuinely good, he does. However, Sam's not coming. Even if he can hear the fight, the lava takes forever to drain and who knows where Sam was situated in this massive prison when he realised something was wrong. Even if Sam's attempting to stop this, there's not way he'll make it. Tommy wants to convince himself it's fine. It is not. If you're aware of them, there are a few spots around the human skull you can hit that will result in a fatal injury. And Dream, ever aware of what he's doing at any given moment, makes no attempt to avoid them for the final blow.