#but i can’t wait to find all of Phil’s hidden bases

[antarctic-empires]

Has anyone been able to access the DSMP world download and would be willing to share it? The original is in timeout atm lmao

[dodo-begone]

The Kidnapping...

(Aka in a nutshell the Yandere boys kidnap reader)

They adored you. They befriended you. They payed attention to you. All for one very important reason. They loved you. And they were quite sure you felt the same for each of them. However. There was no good way of keeping the thing they loved safe and hidden from everyone else. Something so good could be snatched away right from their finger tips. They couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. So they created a plan. A plan to keep you safe. More precisely, a plan to kidnap you.

After sometime they realized their feelings for you. The four sat down to talk about their feelings for you. Tommy confessed first, stating that he should have the reader for himself, followed by Tubbo barking back that reader and him were closer then Tommy and reader ever were. Ranboo jumped into the fight  stating that Tommy was just being a selfish child and that Tubbo was just as immature as him. Purpled knew this was a battle he had to fight in too. “I should have (y/n) for myself! They actually notice me and make me feel seen!” Purpled said. “Your just desperate for attention from someone Purpled! You’re always just giving them crap to make reader like you!” Tommy shouted at Purpled. Before they knew it the argument turned violent with Purpled trying to stab the shit out of Tommy. Just as Purpled backed Tommy into a corner ready to plunge his dagger into Tommy’s throat, Ranboo yelled “Wait! W-What if we s-shared them?” Purpled turned his head to Ranboo so fast it could give him a whiplash. Everyone in the room went silent at his comment. “That could work.” Tubbo agreed. “Fine I guess I can work with this.” Tommy grumbled. Purpled gave a silent nod signifying he agreed. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief after Purpled put his dagger into his hoodie pocket.

They finally all agreed to share you. It was better this way. This way no ones feelings were trampled on and together they’d have a better chance of keeping you safe. The next day they confessed their (platonic) love for reader. They wanted to keep you for themselves forever safe forever! After all you guys are such good friends. They could make sure you’re taken care of. You’ll have everything you could ever want. Just please stay with them. If you say yes? Great! You get to move into your new forever home with them. They’ll cut you off from the rest of the server. If anyone asks about you or tries to search the forever home? They’ll get a nice wack to the head from Purpled and wake up outside their base or home unaware of what just happened or how they ended back up here. If you want to leave, they’ll guilt trip you into staying with them. This is your home now. And they’re your best friends! Don’t you love them? Why would you ever want to leave? “Are you tired of me (y/n)? Is that what it is?” Tommy said. “Please don’t leave me alone (y/n)! You don’t hate me do you? Oh thank goodness your willing to listen, come over here and we can have a nice cuddle session! No need to focus on the outside world!” Tubbo said. “What if I forget you (y/n)? I could never forgive myself if I did (y/n). Do you want that?” Ranboo said. “You could get hurt if you leave here! Please just stay by my side and I’ll keep you safe (y/n). I won’t let a single person lay a finger on my best friend.” Purpled said. Eventually after cuddles, gifts, and kind words from the strange teenage boys. Your content (or you think your content) with living here. You’re stuck either way.

If you say no? Fine. They’ll do things the hard way. Over the next few days you’ll start to notice foot steps behind you, more random noises in your house then usual, and wherever you go somewhere you feel rather unsafe. Eventually you reach your breaking point when you come home one night to find your house’s door wide open and your kitchen window smashed. You take off in a random direction with tears streaming down your face. As your running into the distance you bump into someone. In the dark you can’t quite see who it is but whoever it was offered to take you back to their base to calm you down. As you reach their home you start to see the lights of the forever home in the distance. Entering the forever home, you finally realize who your savior is. Not only did you have one savior, you had two. Ranboo and Purpled. You didn’t care it was them in the moment. You felt to scared to be in your home alone in the moment. “Oh you poor thing! You’re shaking! Here have some tea to warm up.” Tubbo said as he handed you a cup of tea while you sat in their living room shaking like a leaf. After drinking away the entire cup of tea you started to feel tired. You didn’t feel calm or scared. You felt numb, like the world was slipping out of your grasp. The last thing you remembered before you blacked out was being picked up by Tommy and being placed somewhere warm.

You’re their beloved best friend. They could never let you go. Even if you try to escape or scream how much you hate them. That won’t change anything. They just think your tired and cranky. So they’ll take you to bed for naps and cuddles instead. But honestly living with them isn’t so bad. Besides any teenage boy habits and random little things they might do that seem a little strange. They don’t try to hurt or punish you. They’re usually just overly sweet and soft towards you. When ever the boys talk to anyone in the outside world they’re usually more loud and obnoxious towards everyone. But to you, they’re as soft as cotton candy. Days could be spent with doing small to large tasks with them in the home. Or just enjoying movies together that turn into late night cuddles. Cuddle piles are the best! They don’t exactly know how to cook, but they’ll often try to cook meals for you which turn out rather interesting. Their favorite part about the process is when you compliment their food. Any compliment you give the four boys will send them over the moon. Often times they’ll try to 1-up each other all the time to see who can get the reader’s appraise over the others. It’s really cute what they’re willing to do for you.

After some time with the yan boys, you’ll start to love their company just as much they love yours. Days where they’re busy become incredibly lonely and dull in the home. So because of this reader would make small gifts for the boys while they were out. Like little flower crowns out of the flowers they brought home for you yesterday. Or writing little letters telling them how much they mean to you. Or just trying to make them some food for when they come home to you. Just little things to make them happy. When they find these things, they’re more then happy. They’re overjoyed! The fact you’d do this for them proves you think about them even when they’re not there! They couldn’t be happier! They’d wear or use anything you give them with pride. One day Purpled decided to wear a flower crown the reader made. Turns out the same day he was going to train with Punz. “So Purpled, what’s up with the flower crown? It’s not usually your sty-“ “Shh! More training less talking!” Purpled would say while dragging a confused Punz by his hood.

Although things weren’t all calm. People already suspected the boys kidnapping reader beforehand due to how they had already made such attempts in the past. We already knew that if someone made an attempt to search the home they’d be put to a stop by one of the boys. But what if none of the boys were home? Uh oh. Say if one of the caretakers of the smp(Puffy, Philza, or Sam) came to the home in another search of reader. And found them inside the house. We’d be in trouble. All I can imagine is the reader kicking or screaming to be released back home. And the the caretaker would just be like: “but we are going home? What’s the problem?” I can just see the reader being sad cause they miss the boys and know the boys miss them.

As soon as the yan boys find their bestie has been taken away. Panic. It’s panic mode baby. The four gear up in full netherite and grab any weapons necessary. Along with an extra set of netherite for reader. Tommy and Purpled scout outside. While Tubbo and Ranboo stay at the forever home just in case you come home. At a certain point while Tommy and Purpled were searching, they heard from Niki that she’d seen reader with Puffy. Tommy and Purpled were overjoyed and quickly ran back to the forever home to alert Tubbo and Ranboo of their discovery. They decided on ambush. They went to Puffy’s base ready to ambush but were completely unaware that Sam and Phil were currently taking care of reader with Puffy. So this ‘ambush’ went less then pleasant. The four went into the water stream that went down into Puffy’s underground base. Phil was about to go upstream to grab some more medicine from his base only to be greeted with four angry teens ready to tear the place down just to find reader. Phil knew exactly why they were there based on how reader had been ranting on and on about how they were going to come and save them or something. Tommy and Tubbo tried to hold off Phil as Purpled and Ranboo searched for reader. It wasn’t hard to find reader at all. Sam and Puffy were just keeping reader restrained in a small makeshift room in the west wing. Purpled and Ranboo saw Puffy and Sam by reader’s side trying to convince them they were safe and the boys wouldn’t find them here only for them to quickly stand up pulling out weapons ready to defend reader. Purpled being more experienced in combat than Ranboo instructed he help reader while he took on Puffy and Sam. 2 against one wasn’t easy due to the fact that Puffy and Sam were strong fighters too. However Ranboo was quick to follow orders. Ranboo in a hurry took off reader’s restraints and handed them a full set of netherite armor. Both hurried to assist the now cornered Purpled. Reader took a running start launching themselves onto Puffy. Due to the unexpected weight, Puffy went tumbling down knocking Sam down with her in the process. With reader now saved, the three ran out into main area of the under ground base to find Tommy and Tubbo still battling with the Angel of Death. Tommy and Tubbo noticed Reader and they all headed for the water stream up. Finally after a long day of fighting and searching for reader they had them home safe again. The long day had the five tired. They all laid down near the fireplace for some late night cuddles.

Yay! Good list/story? I don’t know. This kinda turned into a strange story at the end lol. I hope you liked this either way. This was just something I made while being sick. So your welcome I guess Dodo :D Apparently I wasn’t done with kidnapping head cannons after that one alien-purpled thing. Either way. Good day. -Toma can anon 🥫

———————��————

First off, Toma I’m so sorry that I took ages to answer this. Second off- FUCKING POP OFF MAN THIS WAS SO FUCKING GOOD HOLY SHIT. I McLove it.

Okay so I won’t be writing too much of a commentary on this- I want ppl to enjoy this masterpiece in their own plus anxiety but let’s not talk about that. Anyways beyond the cut is my commentary- so tw for jokes and all of the stuff from above.

KSJDJDJD PURPLED PULLED THE QUIET KID MOVE- lmao Purpled the Quiet Kid tm. It just reminds me of that one fucking meme: “I wanna kill you and destroy you. I want you died. #scene #anger #fuck #die #hatred”.

Can we just mention that the bonking ppl on the head and them appearing at their homes confused and shit is literally just the despawn system in mc. Like right on par- that’s the literal version of it and that’s how I’m seeing it and I’m fucking cackling at the idea of it-

OKAY LEMMIE GET ANGSTY!!! WHAT IF- What if, when the boys start getting so busy that you practically don’t see them anymore. Eventually you leave to either find them or just leave the house (for company or freedom). You feel that they don’t like you anymore. That you were just a bother. No wonder they haven’t come back. The withering alium flower crown in your hands was a somber reminder of the better times that weren’t so long ago.

[kiara-w]

RaccoonInnit. (a Rewind one-shot?)

This a ficlet based on the fanfic Rewind by @a-non-ymouswriter, and exploring what if Tommy and Tubbo were hybrids in the Rewind universe. Especially with Tommy being very clingy because of trauma.

TW (Trigger warning) for emotional abuse, manipulation and mention of self-harm.

Wanna read more?

Apologies for any grammar errors, english is not my first language.

—————

Hybrids.

They come in many shapes and sizes, including different abilities that help with survival. But with every advantage comes a disadvantage, or a necessity to keep living.

And for Tommy Innit, there was one necessity that always made him feel ashamed.

He isn’t clingy, at least not all the time. But when spring is over, and the leaves start to fall, holding on to precious things is necessary to feel at ease and ready for the dangerous seasons. It's something that raccoon hybrids often do, hug their family or friends tightly at a young age to feel protected, and then offer protection when they reach adulthood.

If he could change one thing about his life, it would be that.

********

"You too, huh?" Dream asks awkwardly, Theo's head is buried in one of his shoulders with his arms close around his body.

Tobias is in front of him, his eyes look away and he doesn't give him an answer. He only pulls Tommy closer to him, even though the boy is already clutching his left arm very strongly.

Sapnap and George try not to laugh next to him, but the other people around don't find the situation as funny as they do. They are supposed to have a meeting after all. And both Tobias and Dream manage to sit with the two people still clinging to them.

Well, this will be difficult. He thinks as he notices how Theo closes his grip a little more tightly and hears faintly the sound of a growl. But he is not upset by it.

The thing that made him upset was finding out that Theo had hidden that need from them. George had been the first one to notice him a little distant, but by the time they really thought something was wrong, they found the man curled up in his bed around blankets, ears twitching, ringtail bristling, and awfully whimpering.

None of them were animal hybrids, but that doesn't mean they couldn’t have asked, that's why Dream was angrier at himself when he demanded Theo for an explanation.

"I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable." His protege had said with a low gaze and clearly embarrassed.

After hearing that, Dream didn't hesitate to give permission to be hugged.

********

Tobias feels angry.

He is feeling a lot of things actually. Happy being hugged by Tommy, frustrated at the sight of Dream with Theo, and hurt by seeing the aggressive look in the eyes of his old best friend. Unlike Tommy in his arms, who almost seemed to be sleeping with a faint smile.

But I deserve that look, don't I? He remembers one day, very long ago, when Theo asked him with an embarrassed face if he could hug him for the rest of the day. What was his response?

"I don't think that’s a good idea, we have a meeting discussing your situation, remember?" George's house had been burned and Dream had asked for consequences. "Besides, it would look embarrassing."

But by the time he saw the dirt pillar reaching the sky, he wished nothing more than to be able to hold Tommy one more time and never let go. He would've been more clingy than his friend would’ve ever needed.

And then Dream showed up with him. The strike of anger and jealousy that he felt during the winter days after, thinking of how his friend would hug that smug bastard looking for safety.

That mental picture always made him regret so many things.

********

Dream knew exactly what to do when Tommy, face red and looking down, grabbed his hoodie in silence.

In the free time he got between his visits to Logstedshire, he had read a lot of things about raccoon hybrids. How they tend to be aggressive towards people they distrust, how they used to find small places to sleep often away from big groups of people, how needy they could become during cold days.

He hugged the boy, moving himself and Tommy to the small tent to avoid the rain.

Sitting in the bed, he stroked the boy's hair and ears, and he noticed small sobs coming from him.

"Why?" Tommy's voice sounded hurt, but he didn't move away. "Why do I only have you?"

Dream only pulled him closer. "Because I'm your friend, Tommy." and the boy only cried more.

They stayed like that for quite a while, until Tommy's breathing got slower. What started with him clutching Dream's hoodie, ended with him hugging the man during his sleep.

After that, hugging Dream became a habit during the rainy days.

********

Tubbo woke up with a jolt when he heard a clap of thunder. The hard sound made an echo in the presidential office.

It was raining a lot those days. But as he looked at the window, a sudden fear rose up inside him as he remembered something. He almost collided with Ranboo as he exited the room.

"Tubbo? Wha- What's wrong? Are you-"

"I need to go to Tommy." He quickly walked past him.

"Tommy?" Ranboo's voice was close to a whisper. But he hurried up to follow him. "Why do you want to see him?"

Tubbo tried to ignore how soft the voice of the hybrid had turned. "It's raining. He gets clingy when it's cold and he needs someone to hold onto."

That's when Ranboo blocked his way, meters before he could get to the front door. "Step away, please." Tommy needed him, but the tall man grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Tubbo, he is- You can't go see him."

"Why not?" His voice grew louder and he felt irritated as he took one step forward. "He can't come back, but that doesn't mean I can't go to him. Let me through!"

"I'm not letting you go there, Tubbo." His tone was firm. After all, if he exited the building, Ranboo wouldn't be able to follow.

But goat hybrids are stubborn, especially when something is standing in their way. His horns tackled Ranboo's chest strongly, but his tall friend didn't move.

"I need to see him Ranboo!" He put all his strength into trying to push him. "I shouldn't have exiled him! He is all alone, don't you get it?!" Tubbo tried to ignore the tears running down his cheeks. "Wilbur- he's gone, Phil and Techno are not here either. I- I'm the only he can..."

He dropped to his knees as Ranboo held him close. "He is too proud to admit it. He- He bites himself to try to avoid asking. He did that a lot in Pogtopia."

"I- I know. You told me."

"Please, let me go."

"I can't."

"Why?..." How did he forget the answer?

"Tubbo," Ranboo embraced him, his voice sounding choked as well. "He's gone."

********

Philza turned around when he felt his cape being pulled.

They'd just finished their part of the outing and his son stood behind him with that horrible smiling mask covering his face.

"Tommy?" he talked to him in the softest tone he could, like treating a small animal that could flee at any second.

It was strange when Dream left Tommy with Phil for the mission of the day, and it was even stranger that his son had started a contact after being silent for months. He missed his voice, louder than Techno’s and warm like Wil’s. Ender, he missed him so much. Even so, he tried to hide the hope in his words. "Do you need something?"

Just let me hear you. Talk to me, please. But the boy didn't answer, his ears were down and his ring tail moved slowly. "We're close to the base, I know you want to wait for Dream but it's getting cold-"

He stopped as Tommy’s head hit Phil's chest weakly, and his hand grabbed part of his robe.

It's something that raccoon hybrids often do.

Philza couldn't resist a fond smile.

He realized that his hands were shaking when they rose up to touch the boy’s hair, and he caressed his ears as gently as he could.

Closing his eyes, forcing some painful memories away, he remembered his younger boy's face, blue eyes with a shy and pleading look to be held. He remembered the warmth of holding him during the rainy days when he was little. And when he remembered how Tommy called him dad a long time ago, Phil's eyes started to tear up.

His arms hugged Tommy strongly. Avians had instincts too. Wrap their loved ones in their wings it served to provide, or in his case, feel comfort. And so his black wings surrounded his son in a tight embrace as he breathed in the boy's hair.

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Forgive me, please don't go. He wanted to scream those words but for some reason, he couldn't. He felt Tommy shaking and his grip tightened a little bit more.

He didn't want to let go, no if it meant the boy going back with Dream.

He could kill him, he thought. Once Techno came back, they could end with the nightmare that surrounded them and his son would finally be safe.

But his thoughts of hope were interrupted when he noticed how Tommy was struggling under him. And he barely managed to avoid the swing of the ax directed at his heart.

"Tommy?! What-?" The boy was crying away from Phil. Tears dropped below the mask, he listened to ugly breathing as Tommy hyperventilated, his tail moved aggressively and he heard a growl coming from him.

He forgot that Tommy was claustrophobic.

"Mate, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-"

Tommy's ears moved quickly to the side and his head turned. Dream was walking towards them with Techno next to him. And before he noticed, the boy ran towards the other masked man and tackled him into a hug.

Could he really call himself Tommy's father? Shame and frustration filled his broken heart as he watched Tommy being petted by the man he hated. "It's fine, Toms. I'm here." Dream seemed ignorant of the deadly looks he got from him and Techno. "We took longer than we thought, but I knew you could hold on."

As sick as Dream’s games were, that was the moment Phil started to question if he really deserved to have Tommy back.

********

Technoblade thought that Tommy was running at him.

It was a foolish thought, the voices told him, but it still hurt. He would've asked what happened, but when he saw Phil's look of regret and frustration, he could get an idea.

Especially when it also happened to him a few weeks ago. The last rains started to become poisonous to every living thing that wasn't crimson. Lucky for them, the most basic armor could offer protection, but the durability would drop quickly.

And because of that, he, Tommy, and Dream were waiting for the rain to pass inside some caves next to a mountain.

The green man went deep, looking for coal to make torches in case mobs would spawn in the dark. That left the piglin hybrid with Tommy. The raccoon boy curled up against a wall, hugging his legs with his mask covering his face.

And he sat next to him. Not too close to touch, but enough to notice the boy shaking, the fur on his ring tail was bristling as well.

"I'm here, you know." He told him. Just like his father, he had noticed the way the boy fiddled with his tail and tried to hide his ears in his hoodie. "We don't have to talk, and I won't hug you back if you don't want to."

In the past, when Tommy's pride got the worst of him, Techno would always tell Wilbur or Phil. It was his way of compensating for the fact that he didn't like that kind of physical contact.

But at that moment, he was more than willing to let Tommy hold him as much as he needed to, even if it would take all of his strength not to hug back, even if the boy despised his existence, and even when he knew that he had lost all right to call Tommy his brother. He wanted to be there for him.

But the raccoon hybrid kept quiet. Only when he looked at him he realized that he was sleeping. Shivering, but his breathing was slow.

"Tech, I'm cold." He frowned at the memory. The voices began to speak louder, demanding that he give some warmth.

Techno's eyes stared at him softly. Despite not being sixteen anymore, Tommy still looked so small next to him. His arm surrounded him, but before making contact, another memory came.

Suddenly, it was not the boy resting anymore, he was curled up on the floor, shaking, blood dripping from his nose, and with several bruises on his face.

"It stays in the pit."

His hand backed off immediately. A wave of quiet anger filled his mind. Some of the voices were cruel to remind him of that sight.

Blue eyes saw him with anger once. And then again in a plain, in a little refuge whose name Techno had already forgotten. Tommy looked at him that way when he mocked his pain. And that look would be engraved in his heart for the rest of his days, he wouldn't forget.

How could he? When the boy's face was getting hard to remember recently, always covered in a mask and staying silent.

Technoblade felt the most pain at the thought of forgetting Tommy's face.

He stood up and left his cape around the boy carefully. He walked until he reached the exit of the caves. It was still raining, so he leaned on one of the walls and watched the raindrops slowly kill everything.

He breathed, ordering his thoughts and calming every single voice. Their mission wasn't over. The best thing he could do was not lose his focus.

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps behind him, and the smiling mask appeared in his vision. Dream held his cape in front of him.

It was a single second of confusion. He grabbed the cape and the masked man spoke, making Techno's rage rise once again.

"Don't show compassion now, Technoblade. You once told him to die, and I pushed him to keep living."

Dream went back to the caves without expecting an answer, leaving him alone with the screaming in his head, every voice demanding blood, and never getting the satisfaction.

Techno liked to consider himself a calm individual, able to control his emotions better than others. But the voices called him a hypocrite when he pictured all the ways he could kill the masked man beside him.

********

Tobias blinks a couple of times when he feels a movement by his side.

And he almost screams seeing Theo clutching part of his shirt, eyes closed, and sleeping very peacefully over his shoulder.

For a second he considers the possibility of him dreaming, but he remembers entering Tubbo's house just minutes ago, he sat on the big couch feeling tired, and he didn't hear Theo come in.

He must be waiting for him. He recalls Dream asking Theo to wait since there were other matters to be discussed. And Tommy had gone with Tubbo to do other things as well.

A little part of him feels sad that he can't stop time at this very moment. But a warm feeling fills him as well, and he closes his eyes getting closer to the body beside him.

Just like raccoon hybrids often hug their family or friends.

He smiles. Theo can kill him later, he wants to enjoy the moment a little more.

—————

Man, this was a long one. You could say this is a bunch of ficlets into one? I dunno I just wanted to write something sad.

[exyrpf]

best stucky fic recs pwease

Okay, disclaimer, these are all like five+ years old (which is the best Stucky era, imo) and definitely not the only ones I enjoy; these are just a few in my bookmarks on ao3.

In no particular order besides the order I bookmarked them and under a read more because there's a shit ton of them (really, it's a lot):

- hold me until we crumble; Not Rated, 23k

“Sam told me you were watching Antiques Roadshow,” Natasha says, shaking out her hair. “I assumed it was a national emergency.”

- despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained); Explicit, 72k

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

- family means no one gets left behind or forgotten; Teen, 11k

“Why did you think I wouldn’t like you for being gay?” Steve asks gently.

“You’re Captain America.” Eli’s got his teeth clenched and is resolutely looking ahead. “You stand for truth and justice and the American way. You stand for American morals. You stand for…” he shrugs awkwardly. “Not people like me.”

Steve blows the air out of his cheeks slowly, trying to figure out how to keep the anger out of his voice so Eli doesn’t think it’s at him.

Or, Steve comes to terms with his new world, and gains some children in the process.

- Mistake on the Part of Nature; Teen, 1.3k

Steve takes in Bucky's betrayed look and Sam's confusion, follows Sam's gaze to the pile of mangled fruit in the trash can. Sudden comprehension fills his face.

"Oh," he says. "Bucky found out about bananas."

In which an American icon is mourned. But probably not the one you're thinking of.

- Swear Jar; Teen, 1.5k

Bucky isn't the only troll in the future.

OR

Steve has a Swear Jar and he makes the Avengers pay up every time they cuss.

- Barnes & Rogers and the Goddamn Truth; Not Rated, 19k

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

- perfectly right wrong number; Teen, 32k

It all starts because Steve is too dumb to handle his smartphone.

A wrong number AU in which Bucky Barnes doesn't enter Steve's life (meaning: Bucky wasn't born until the eighties, but Steve is still Captain America) until Steve accidentally dials the wrong number. Wherein there is a lot of texting, some advice via Natasha and Darcy, a bit of pining, and a first date in an amusement park. Oh, and on top of being a disabled veteran, Bucky is a professional catwalker. Literally.

- The power of the right shirt (a.k.a. God bless America); Teen, 1.2k

"He just…" Phil trails off, mouth gaping. He is staring at the field outside the house, eyes glazed.

Clint sighs. "Yeah, he just ripped a log in two with his bare hands."

- To fill it up with something; Teen, 21k

A fateful encounter with Dr. Strange leaves the Winter Soldier transformed, and Bucky Barnes reunites with Steve Rogers in a most unexpected way.

“Steve brings the puppy inside, into the apartment that doesn't quite feel like home no matter how much he's been trying. He isn't used to being alone. Before the war, he always had Bucky, and his mother until her death. During the war, Bucky was there, too—and the rest of the Howlers, of course—but Bucky always meant home. (And well, maybe Steve's already got a name for the puppy in mind)."

- build it bigger than the sun; Teen, 10k

“Yeah, because nothing says heteronormative like living in Dupont Circle for two years and wearing skin-tight shirts to hit on hot airmen when you go running in the morning.”

“Look, I know you’re being sarcastic but I really don’t get how no one picked up on that.”

Steve and Bucky try to work out their relationship. The Avengers keep getting in the way.

- Memories Circle (Like Birds of Prey), Teen, 32k

Everything seems to be going right, Steve's fighting with his Commandos, they've saving lives-- until Steve falls from a train, is taken prisoner, and turned into the Winter Soldier. Meanwhile, Bucky takes up Steve's mantle as Captain America, and thanks to Zola's experiments, he gets dropped into a whole new time, only to cross paths with a Steve who doesn't know who he is anymore.

Essentially, the events of CA:TFA, mild mentioning of Avengers, and CA:TWS but with Steve as the Winter Soldier and Bucky as Captain America

- The Gentleness That Comes; Mature, 9k

Steve Rogers never really views the things he had to do to get by before the War with any sort of shame or embarrassment. People ask him for his opinions on modern issues in interviews, but Steve has gotten good at talking around those types of questions. Fury insists that there's no way to answer them without casting a shadow of controversy across the reputation of the Avengers, and that's the last thing Steve wants.

But then a sex tape is released featuring Tony Stark in bed with another man, and Steve can't stay quiet any longer.

- salt for the sea; Mature, 7.5k

Natasha comes home with intel regarding the fate of the Winter Soldier; Steve leaves to go and avenge Bucky Barnes.

“It's a list of everyone who was involved in his death, and a rough timeline of everything that happened beforehand,” she tells him.

“And the notebook?”

“I explained what they did,” Natasha says, “The blank pages are for you to explain what you do to them.”

- Lone Cat and Samurai; Teen, 8.4k

"We lost Kitten America sir!" Junior Agent blurted out. Then turned an unlovely shade of purple. "I mean, Captain America. Who’s a kitten. Because magic. Sir."

- Waiting To Prove You're Not Alone; Explicit, 41k

Months after he woke up on the banks of the Potomac, when a reporter mistakenly assumes Steve would disapprove of homosexuality being as accepted as it is in the modern day, Steve accidentally snaps and unleashes his real opinion on the matter... and with that, a secret he's hidden for over eighty years.

When that secret comes looking for him in New York, Steve can only hope that he can get a second chance at saving his best friend, even if it means keeping his heart in check.

“Yeah, back in my day it wasn't tolerated, and because of that I knew from the minute I figured it out, that I’d never get to tell my best friend that I loved him, and sure enough, he died without knowing that I’d been in love with him for a decade."

- I'm Not Sick (But I'm Not Well); Mature, 30k

Steve Rogers doesn’t meet Bucky Barnes in the 1930’s. Instead, Steve meets him April 17th, 2012.

Well…sort of meets him.

In actuality, Bucky had almost hit him with his truck.

Or: The fic where millennial Bucky Barnes nearly runs over a freshly thawed national treasure, and what Steve Rogers did to adjust to modern NYC during those two weeks before the events of The Avengers.

- pure as the driven slush; Explicit, 11k

He should have worked it out sooner. But then, Steve always was a sneaky little bastard—had to have been, just to survive this long.

For the SteveBucky Fest prompt, "Steve is quite experienced while Bucky's never gone beyond second base with anyone".

- Let's Be Exposed and Unprotected, Explicit, 5k

Bucky’s pretty sure he should be into getting fucked through the floor while walls explode around him like in that Mr and Mrs Smith movie that Clint loves. But he likes it like this. He likes being on his back with Steve looming above him, big and naked, blocking out the rest of the world.

- Man of Steel; Explicit, 6.7k

It’s like Steve looked at his metal arm and thought ‘Challenge Accepted.’

- 5 Times Steve Got Arrested and 1 Time They All Did; Teen, 4.9k

What it says, 5 times Steve Rogers ended up in jail (with and without Bucky) + 1 time all of the Avengers got arrested with him.

- the best of you; Teen, 16k

Bucky is on a mission when he gets the call.

They tell him that Steve has been compromised.

[The story wherein Hydra captures Steve to create a new weapon. Bucky, alongside the rest of the Avengers, come together and work through the fallout.]

- pull apart the dark; Teen, 79k

Steve's unending faith in his best friend was beginning to look less like hope and more like fantasy. When they'd caught the Soldier – in a fire fight that still gave Sam nightmares – the only thing the man seemed to recall was how to hit exactly where it hurt.

Four months later, Barnes still refused to speak English. Refused to heed anything but Steve's voice.

So, all in all, it was not a great time for Hydra to attack New York. All in all, Sam really wished they'd just killed him, instead of turning Captain America into a baby.

- Not Another Supersoldier Fantasy; Explicit, 8.9k

Bucky finds a popular sex toy modeled on Captain America's own anatomy. Well, isn't this just perfect? Because even after all this time, he still hasn’t seen Steve’s supersoldier cock. But apparently in this day and age anyone with $29.95 can get a decent replica. The unfairness of this is of galactic proportions.

- the blood of the covenant; Teen, 7.5k

Steve has a "thing" for hot water.

Or, Sam Wilson adopts Steve Rogers.

- Mighty like Love, Mighty like Sorrow; Teen, 19k

After freeing himself from the Russians' mind control, Bucky is left at loose ends, drifting through the decades. Still, he's in no hurry to take up Nick Fury's offer to once again fight the good fight -- especially not when Fury has the nerve to put some imposter in his best friend's old suit and send him out to fight against Chitauri.

- Read Me Like a Book; Gen, 1.5k

In which Bucky accidentally becomes a book collector, because when the universe gives you a million biographies about your boyfriend, you go bookcase shopping. And then he finds out about The Grenade Incident, and the boys actually talk about it like actual adults. (Somewhere, Sam sheds a proud tear.)

- the broadest stroke of color; Gen, 16k

Sarah Rogers always loved Steve's hands.

"Your hands will do a lifetime's work," she'd say. "Remember to do the work you can for those you love."

Almost a century later, Steve does just that.

[The story wherein Steve draws comics for Bucky to help him recover his memory. Through a series of events, the issues are leaked, and Steve finds himself reviving the Captain America comics. He still isn't sure how that happened.]

- If You're Loved By Someone (You're Never Rejected); Teen, 9.4k

You’re fifteen when you realize why you stare at Bucky’s lips more than normal when he laughs and when he says your name. You lean into his shoulder when you walk next to him and when you’re sick you don’t fight off his soft hands. You tease him, he teases back and being around him is so easy you forget what it was like to live without him. You can’t remember life pre-Bucky and it scares you.

- Unusual Weather; Explicit, 8.7k

Bucky’s been at the Avengers Tower for three weeks before he finally gives in to Steve’s gentle coaxing and Stark’s cheerful waving of fistfuls of circuits, and lets them scan the arm.

It doesn’t go well.

- this city bleeds its aching heart; Explicit, 35k

The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

- Good Boy; Explicit, 13k

Bucky is still adjusting to life with the Avengers, and Steve is willing to do whatever it takes to make him feel comfortable. Increasingly, though, what seems to make him comfortable is strangely intimate.

Surprise, Steve! You're a gentle dom and Bucky wants to be your pretty pet!

- Brooklyn; Teen, 8.8k

"Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?"

Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

[bittydragon]

Tired and Confused

Notes: Lookit! Sleepy bois meeting time! I may have wrote them a bit out of character, but who cares? Tommy and Tubbo don’t get much time in this one shot, I focused this one on the others. I have so many ideas for these as a whole AU. So it’s happening. And I got a couple things planned, one of which turned out a little angsty, whoops- ANYWAYS. Enjoy some sleepy bois with a tiny Wilbur! “You two sure you’re going to be alright while I’m out?” Tommy and Tubbo both looked at him, Tommy much more exasperated than Tubbo. Tubbo just looked apologetic for Tommy’s behavior. He still nodded with a wide grin on his face.

“We’ll be alright, Wilbur! I’ll keep Tommy out of trouble! Promise!”

Wilbur just shook his head and smiled. “That’s good, I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, knowing full well that when he returned Tommy will have found some sort of trouble and dragged Tubbo into it despite what Tubbo said. There was no stopping that chaotic duo and genuinely, Wilbur didn’t want to. It’s what made life so much fun for them.

So, despite knowing full well the two boys were going to get in some form of trouble while he was gone, he left for his borrowing run. This run was most definitely not as essential as most of the other runs, he knew it was highly likely that Tubbo may yell at him for this run but he knew he could get back at him for all of his strange outings he would never explain. Seriously, Wilbur was scared that the humans were going to find out about them with how much Tubbo goes out. And Tubbo is far from careful, though Tommy is still arguably worse. Hence why Tommy has his borrowing rights revoked.

But strings and wire were far from the list of essentials in this moment. Wilbur just wanted to make himself a guitar. He had made one for himself a couple of years back when it was just him and Tommy. There was a human child in the house who had the strange instrument and played all the time. He even sang along to the sounds he made, which Wilbur later learned was actually called music. When he learned that Tommy really liked the music as well, Wilbur created a guitar and sang for Tommy whenever he could. He had to leave the original behind when the exterminator was called on them. 

Tommy had started getting stressed out lately. They’ve been in the same house for nearly two years now. They had never been in a house that long without being chased out. And Tommy has also begun to share Wilbur’s uneasiness over how easy it was to just live. Something was obviously off and Wilbur hated it. But Tubbo always insisted that the humans were just painfully oblivious so they continued their way of life.

Wilbur quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he realized he reached the entrance to one of the humans’ rooms. Well, this human was definitely less human than the other one but that changed nothing. He pulled back the loose pink wallpaper and slipped inside.

He began his careful trek to the desk where the string was normally located. He paused at every noise he heard before speeding up to finish his journey faster. When he reached the base of the desk he lifted his hook off his belt and threw it upwards only for it to fall back down. With an annoyed huff he threw it again. 

Only for it to fall again and clock him in the head.

“Ow! What the heck? Just latch you damn thing!” He muttered his angry curses at the hook while rubbing the sore spot on his head. He maneuvered the hook back into throwing position once more. “Third time’s the charm.” And with a hard toss the hook flew up, landed on the desktop, and-

Clocked him on the head again.

“Dang. You’re havin’ a rough time there, little nerd, aren’t ya?”  

Wilbur whipped around, eyes wide, to meet the rather amused gaze of the piglin hybrid. The owner of the room Wilbur was currently trying to borrow from. Oh gods, what will happen to Tommy and Tubbo? How will they know that Wilbur has been caught? He knows he can’t escape, especially not from this one. The other one Wilbur may have had a small chance of escaping but not this one. Not the one who fought other humans for fun. Wilbur hopes that Tommy and Tubbo can take care of themselves. Tubbo probably could, he could take Wilbur’s place. He could-

“Breathe, little buddy, breathe. You can’t do anything in a state like that.” Wilbur hadn’t even noticed how heavy he was breathing. His panic completely overwhelmed him in the moment. His lack of response did something for the human because the next thing Wilbur knew two large, pink tinged hands reached down for him. All Wilbur could do in his panic driven state was fumble backwards and let out a pathetic “stop” as they wrapped around him and lifted him upwards.

The fingers wrapped around him and Wilbur braced himself to have his breath squeezed out of him, but they only laid on him with enough force to keep him from falling. He could leave the grasp if he wanted, but Wilbur wasn’t keen on falling to his death just yet. He looked up to meet the gaze of the piglin hybrid. 

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. They just remained in a silent standoff with no reward to the winner. The gaze of those red eyes was unnerving but Wilbur found no malice towards him. No greed, no curiosity. Really there wasn’t any emotion Wilbur could find other than the small crease of worry on his face. This piglin was good at hiding emotions.

“So what now?” Wilbur stared up at the hybrid, awaiting his response. He was met with a flash of shock on his face before he once again concealed it into a vague look of disinterest. But Wilbur could find a small hint of relief hidden there. Perhaps because he spoke?

“I’ll just let you go on with your day, I guess.” The hands suddenly began shifting again and Wilbur instinctively grabbed one of the fingers as support as his heart began racing again. The hands suddenly parted and slid him onto the desktop, his initial destination. The piglin then raised his now free hand to the back of his neck and let his gaze wander away. “And I apologize for scaring you. Was not my intention.”

Just as suddenly as he had arrived, he turned around and began walking back out of the room. “Techno, you idiot, borrowers are easily startled. Remember that!” He whispered to himself. Wilbur whipped around at the statement, he doesn’t think he was supposed to hear that. This human, Techno he assumed, knew about borrowers. Wilbur didn’t want to dwell on it for too long, so he quickly located the string and left as fast as he could.

---

“Phil. There’s more.”

“What?” Phil looked over towards Techno, completely confused at what Techno was so worked up over. “There’s more what?”

“Little guys. More borrowers. There are more in the house.”

Phil’s eyes widened. More borrowers? But wouldn’t they have noticed that earlier on? Techno took Phil’s silence as an indicator to continue.

“It’s not just one in the house anymore. Phil, I accidentally met another today. No clue on how many are here now, but the number is now at least two.” Phil mulled it over for a second before speaking. He then shrugged.

“I guess we have more friends to meet then, right Techno?” Silence. “Techno?”

“...Phil. I basically adopted the new one already. I have a new brother now, Phil. He is my new brother, Phil.”

Phil couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. Techno looked down, ashamed at himself. Phil walked over to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to stifle his laughter.

“You’re gonna have to tell him- ha- tell him that he’s your brother. And maybe introduce us- oh my god Techno I can’t.” And with that Phil dissolved back into his laughing fit. Techno could only look on as Phil laughed at him. He couldn’t deny that the situation was absurd, but the borrower caught Techno’s attention like nobody else ever has.

And in their conversation, neither of them noticed the shadow move across the kitchen counter and into the wall.

---

“My name is Wilbur, by the way. Just thought you should know your brother’s name. Cause it’s important, Techno.”

Techno could only stare at the borrower who just hauled himself onto the coffee table right before the two brothers could start their movie. Phil could only laugh at the situation playing out in front of him.

“Techno! He knows your name but you don’t know his! What an amazing brother!” Techno glared at his brother on the couch and elbowed him before returning his gaze to his tiny new brother on the table. Wilbur just smiled, and Techno could see the blatant look of no regret plastered over the borrower’s face

When Phil finished laughing, much to Techno’s relief, he turned to the borrower who was still waiting on the table. Phil noted that despite the playful behavior and act of courage, he was still nervously rocking back and forth on his feet. Phil sent him a small smile.

“Good to meet my brother’s other brother, Wilbur. My name is Phil. I’m your new brother’s other brother.” Phil smiled a little wider when Wilbur laughed.

“Don’t say it like that, it sounds weird. Just call me your brother and I’ll call you mine.”

Phil didn’t have a response to that. Techno nudged him with a look that screamed ‘see?’. Phil is also adopting this borrower as his next brother. It’s official, Phil has two brothers now. He snapped back into a more normal train of thought when Wilbur suddenly let out a large yawn. He reached up and covered his mouth with a nervous chuckle.

Techno went to laugh at his brother before getting cut off by a yawn of his own. That was then followed by Phil. They all looked at one another in shock. 

Phil broke the shocked silence. “I guess we are sleepy boys, huh?” That earned him the laughs he was hoping for. Phil noticed that Techno looked towards Wilbur and made some vague motion with his hands that Phil couldn’t decipher. After a moment of contemplation, Wilbur nodded and Techno reached forwards to scoop him into his palms and leaned back on the couch. He deposited the borrower onto his chest and Phil was gladly surprised to see Wilbur relax into it.

Phil was happy to have another member of the family.

Techno was glad to have someone other than Phil trust him like this.

Wilbur was excited to have two more people to call his brothers other than Tommy-

Shit. He still has to tell Tommy and Tubbo.

[words-with-wren]

cause we all have wings but some of us don’t know why

for once i like posting stories on tumblr more than ao3 at least i know how the tags for this fandom work here.

anyway, based roughly off Tubbo and Phil’s streams on the 22/12 (or 23/12 if you’re like me and from the future) when Tubbo visits Phil in house arrest.

word count: 4,455

____

There was a ringing from above and Phil let out a long sigh, glancing up from where he was carving out his basement. For a moment he considered just letting it ring, but there wasn’t anywhere else he could be while under house arrest, and he didn’t really want his door to be broken down. He’d only just fixed the windows. 

With some reluctance, he made his way out of the basement, shaking water from his hair and wings as he leapt free of the water elevator. A glance out the window made him let out another heavy sigh when he saw who was ringing the bell. 

He quickly grabbed the ankle monitor boots from the amour stand he had set them on, adjusting them to make sure they sat correctly and opened the door. 

“Good morning, Mr President,” he said stiffly, hostility clear in his voice. Tubbo, standing on the other side of the door with a pleasant smile, faltered only a moment at the greeting. 

“Hey, Phil,” he said. “Can I come in?” There was an edge to his words, as though he were being almost too nice.

But Phil couldn’t really say no, so he moved aside silently, allowing the President to step into the house. Tubbo paused a moment to take in the room, the villager in one corner, the sheep Phil was babysitting for Ghostbur in another. 

“How have you been?” Tubbo asked, and Phil knew him well enough to know that, at least, was genuine. He wasn’t in the mood to give him any ground. 

“As well as I can be,” he said, the same ice to his voice as his initial greeting. If Tubbo noticed, he didn’t react. 

The younger’s eyes landed on the armour stand, and Phil felt a moment of surprising nervousness -- he should have hidden that in a chest before opening the door. 

“How’s the ankle monitor? Not uncomfortable?” Tubbo asked, and it wasn’t hard to read the real purpose behind those words. Again, Phil wasn’t in the mood to make this easy for Tubbo. 

“It’s fine,” he said, glancing down at the offending items on his feet. 

“Can I have a look?” Tubbo asked, and Phil locked eyes with him for a moment. Finally, he decided it wasn’t a battle worth fighting, and kicked the shoes off, pushing them towards Tubbo. Tubbo picked them up, silently turning them over in his hands. He handed them back, and Phil didn’t put them on. “How about I make you another pair?” Tubbo asked, and Phil narrowed his eyes. 

“These are fine, I think,” he said. Tubbo once again locked eyes with him. 

“It’s no trouble at all,” he said and moved out of the house. Phil let out a low curse, staring at the ankle monitor in his hands. He was willing to bet the new pair would have some kind of enchantment - Tubbo was a smart kid, smart enough to know Phil wasn’t wearing the ankle monitor at all times. 

Sure enough, Tubbo returned a few minutes later, a new set of shoes in one hand. Phil wasn’t at all surprised to see the faint glow of an enchantment clinging to their surface. Tubbo held them out, smiling in a way that would almost seem friendly. 

“Here you go, Phliza Minecraft,” he said. 

“Here you go, Mr Minecraft! I made it for you!” Tubbo beamed, holding out a drawing he had just completed. It was a rough, childish scribble of a bee, hardly recognizable, but Phil couldn’t help but smile as he took it.

“Thanks, mate,” he said, ruffling the boy’s head. Somehow, Tubbo’s smile grew wider and he turned to run back to where Tommy was swinging a stick around. Phil smiled fondly after him. 

“Is this really necessary?” he asked, taking the shoes. Curse of binding, he was pretty sure. Tubbo didn’t break eye contact. 

“You tell me,” he said. 

For a moment, they locked eyes, a silent battle of wits. Eventually, Phil again decided it wasn’t a battle worth fighting - they were only iron, after all, it shouldn’t take too much effort to break them. He probably had some magma in a chest, or he could ask Ghostbur to find a cactus. 

Part of him wanted to know what Tubbo would do if he refused. 

Part of him didn’t want to put the boy in that position. 

So he sighed, reaching down and slipping the shoes into place. They clung uncomfortably, a prickle of magic shooting through his feet. He rolled his ankles, winching slightly at the uncomfortable sensation. It faded almost entirely a moment later, but they still felt odd. Wrong. 

“How about I make you a helmet as well!” Tubbo said, fake cheerfulness dripping off his every word. “You have an anvil, right?” Without waiting for an answer, he moved past Phil to open his enderchest, pausing a moment before turning to the anvil, shooing Friend gently aside. 

Phil laid a hand on the sheep’s head, watching as Tubbo enchanted a helmet with a book. It glowed softly, the same rippling, almost beautiful effect that Phil’s shoes currently bore. 

“I’m not putting that on, Tubbo,” Phil said, trying to leave no room for argument. Tubbo narrowed his eyes, holding out the helmet. 

“I just want to make sure you’re not going to run out on us,” he said. 

“Why do you even want me here?” Phil asked. “I’m not technically a citizen of L’manburg.” 

Tubbo hesitated, as though he hadn’t fully thought that through. Then he scowled, stepping close, helmet still held out. 

“It’s better that we know where you are,” Tubbo said. As though Phil couldn’t break out in a second if he really wanted to. 

He didn’t want to say that he was staying partly for Tubbo - for Fundy, for his family caught in the trap, feeling like they were unable to leave. Sure, he was probably going to be more help to Techno while on the inside, but he also couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the children of L’manburg completely alone. Not while there was some chance they could find a better way. 

The shoes on his feet and the helmet Tubbo was holding made him less and less confident that was even possible. 

 "And the shoes will achieve that well enough,” he said, refusing to back down. Tubbo hesitated a moment longer, but Phil knew the boy had been around him long enough to know he couldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to. So he dropped his eyes and returned the helmet to his inventory. 

“I guess you’re right.” He shifted uncertainly and glanced back to the door with a reluctance about him, a reluctance to leave. Phil’s suspicion was confirmed when Tubbo turned back to him. “What have you been up to?” 

There was an almost pleading note to his voice, as though he were asking for a truce. As though a moment ago he hadn’t been acting like Phil’s jailer. Phil was too tired to continue the mind games. 

"I’ve been making a basement,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the ladder upstairs. Friend let out a low bleat. 

“Oh, that’s cool!” Tubbo said, and there was genuine excitement in his words. He paused a moment, and Phil could almost see an idea take light in his mind. What, exactly, the idea was he was almost afraid to find out. “Do you want to see my guardian farm? I finally got it working.” 

Phil couldn’t deny the curiosity. Tubbo had been working on the farm for a long time - far longer than he had been in L’manburg. When he had first heard of the project in an excited letter from Tubbo, he’d been very interested to see how it would turn out. 

He had almost forgotten about it in the wake of everything that had happened. Clearly, Tubbo hadn’t. 

“I can’t really go anywhere,” he said finally, gesturing to the ankle monitor. Tubbo frowned. 

“I’m the president, right? If you’re with me I’m sure it doesn’t matter.” 

 The uncertainty of his statement made Phil a little uncomfortable. If even the president didn’t know the rules of L’manburg, who was really calling the shots? 

“Mmm,” he said, unconvinced. 

“Sam and I spent all day yesterday working on the redstone, and we finally got it working!” There was a buzzing excitement about Tubbo that Phil hadn’t seen for a long time, a pride about a complete project, a childish glee at something working the way it should. 

It was that that finally made him sigh and push himself off the wall. Maybe Tubbo wasn’t all the way gone, and spending more time with him might help him to understand what had happened. When Tubbo had changed from an excitable, kind boy to a cold and cruel president. 

Phil had practically raised the boy. Where had he gone wrong? 

“Alright,” he said. “I can’t say I’m not curious to see it finally finished.”

Besides, an extended trip with Tubbo might help him gain some intel for Techno. 

It was a beautiful day outside, the sun reflecting off the lake L'manburg rested upon. Phil paused as they exited, enjoying the rare warmth of the winter sun. It was the kind of day where he wanted to fly, to spread his wings and soar over the whole world, to leave everything behind. 

But he didn't. Couldn't. 

The wooden streets of the city were surprisingly empty as Phil followed Tubbo in the direction of the Nether hub. Only Ranboo was present, casting them a curious smile and wave from where he sat on the edge of one of the platforms, a notebook open on his lap. 

The silence felt uncomfortable. Phil may not have been around for long, but he could still remember seeing L'manburg full of life, people working together to revive the nation. 

He was pretty sure he knew when the silence had begun.

Maybe that was why Tubbo hadn't been around as much. Maybe that was why he had finally finished the project he'd been working on for months. He couldn't bear the silent streets of his home. 

The uncomfortable silence followed them as they moved out of L’manburg borders towards the Nether portal. Phil wasn’t in any mood to try and alleviate the tension, so it sat heavily over them. 

Tubbo kept glancing back at him, opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something and then shutting it again. He was clearly uncomfortable with the silence, and Phil would be lying to say he wasn’t a little satisfied with that result. 

He’d been uncomfortable sitting in his house for the past few days. Watching them drag Techno out of retirement and try to kill him. The president could deal with a little uncomfortable silence. 

His shoulder still stung from where Tubbo had shot him. 

The heat of the Nether took a moment to get used to after the cool winter air of the Overworld. Tubbo paused a step away from the portal, pushing hair out of his eyes and glancing back as Phil stepped through. 

“It’s this way,” he said, the first words that had been spoken between them since they had left. He made his way down the steps, heading towards the tunnel that would take them to the Nether roof. 

But his gaze lingered long on two rickety, unstable cobblestone bridges stretching over the lava. Phil didn’t miss the way his face crumbled slightly at the sight of them, before he hardened his expression and turned to face the way they were going. 

Tubbo began talking as they made their way up the stairs. He wasn’t talking about anything in particular, just filling the silence with stories of his and Sam’s efforts to make the farm work. 

The rest of the trip past much the same, Tubbo filling the silence and Phil giving him an occasional grunt or acknowledgement. The wind was picking up as they exited the cave the portal opened into, the sea spread out before them. 

In barely any time, Phil could make out the glass walls of the guardian farm, and once again he couldn't help but be impressed by the sheer size of it. He’d been here not long ago, helping Tubbo light it up properly, but clearly, more work had been done since then. 

Tubbo drew the boat alongside the glass barrier, and Phil stepped onto it, spreading his wings and enjoying the wind through his damaged and clipped feathers. That was another annoyance of being stuck inside - he couldn’t really spread his wings fully. 

“So what do you think?” Tubbo asked, a hint of pleading to his voice. He needed validation, needed to hear words of affirmation from Phil. Once again, he was reminded that the president was still just a child. 

A child who had almost executed Techno. A child who had thrown Tommy aside. A child who had locked Phil in his own house for no reason but protecting the man he saw as a son. 

But the farm was impressive, Phil couldn’t deny that. He jumped to the ground, instinctively spreading his wings as he fell. The water at the bottom broke his fall and he stepped out as Tubbo landed behind him. 

“We were working on it all yesterday,” Tubbo said. “And the day before - I’ve really wanted to get it finished.” He moved forward, looking back and beckoning Phil to follow. He did, glancing up at the structure in the middle of the huge ring of glass. 

“It’s impressive,” he said finally, and Tubbo lit up, grinning. “Well done mate.” 

“You really think so?” Tubbo asked. A guardian fell to its death, and Phil couldn’t help but smile. 

“‘Course, you’ve done a good job.” 

“Look, look Phil!” Tubbo practically dragged him down the cave, excitement washing off him in waves. 

“He’s been working on the nerd crap all week,” Tommy commented, following a few paces behind. Tubbo stuck out a tongue at him, stopping in front of the simple spider farm. 

“I got it to work,” he said smugly, looking up at Phil and folding his arms. 

“Well done mate,” Phil said, feeling strangely proud of the boy. 

Tubbo seemed more like himself than he had for a long time standing here, the ocean water high above them. He moved quickly to the side of the farm, happily rambling about how he had constructed it and Phil felt some of his anger towards the boy fade, making a mental note to thank Sam for giving Tubbo a place to be himself. Once again, he was reminded that Tubbo was still young, that he had gone through so much and had the fate of an entire nation placed on his shoulders. 

It didn’t excuse what he had done. 

“...and we’ve got lots of slime chunks,” Tubbo said, gesturing to where a cobblestone marker stood across the field. As he spoke, a slime spawned into existence. “See. We’re going to make a slime farm there. Sam wants their balls.” 

“You’ve got a good set up for a lot of farms here,” Phil commented, turning as he spoke. His wings fluttered slightly behind him, and once again he felt the loss of his flight keenly. 

“That’s the plan,” Tubbo said. “We’ve also got a number of zombie villa-” 

He was cut off by the tell-tale hiss of a creeper. Phil spun, sword instantly in his hand, just in time to see the mob explode beside Tubbo. The boy had enough sense to slam on armour, his face white and panicked. 

He was thrown back a pace, landing on his back, gasping for breath. Ignoring the hole the creeper had left, Phil knelt by his side, taking in his wide eyes and shaking hands. 

“You alright, mate?” he asked as Tubbo shakily sat up. It wasn’t just his hands that were shaking, his whole body shuddered and he wrapped his arms around his legs, closing his eyes and breathing quickly. “Tubbo?” 

“Sorry,” Tubbo gasped out shakily. “Sorry - sorry, I-” 

“Just breath,” Phil said, voice steady. “You’re alright, it was just a creeper.” 

Tubbo nodded sharply but didn’t look up. He sat for a long moment, breathing deeply, his shaking slowly diminishing. Finally, he looked up, hair falling into his eyes. The scars on his face stood out painfully on his pale face. 

“I don’t like explosions,” he muttered. 

Phil couldn’t blame him. 

“Let me fix the torch grid at then we should head back,” he said. Tubbo nodded, his face tight, guarded and when Phil stood, a stack of torches in his hand, he was gripping his sword tightly. 

They were silent on the way back. Tubbo still hadn’t taken his armour off, his eyes still darting with nervousness. Once again, Phil found himself torn between anger towards the man in front of him and what he had done and anger towards what the world had done to Tubbo. 

By the time they made it back to the Overworld, Tubbo seemed back to his normal self. He led the way back to L’manburg, taking a brief detour on the way to show Phil the bee apiary he had made. Phil raised an eyebrow at that, stepping into the surprisingly warm dome. 

“It’s not the most efficient,” he said. 

“Yeah, but there’s lots of bees,” Tubbo said, holding out a hand to one of them. He grinned as it buzzed towards him, bumping into his hand a few times before turning and flying away. 

A few spare bottles of honey in their inventories, they finally returned to the wooden platforms of L’manburg city centre. Phil paused a moment to remove his armour as they arrived - he’d continue following that rule for now. 

For as long as those in power decided to keep it. The way things were going, he wouldn't be surprised if the once peaceful nation became a military state. 

It had been born in blood after all. 

“Uh, Phil?” Tubbo called as Phil moved up the steps towards his house. He looked back to see Tubbo standing in the market place, all his armour gone expect his helmet. Which - Phil noted - was shimmering with an enchantment. “I think I put the wrong helmet on.” 

Phil couldn't help but chuckle at that. 

“Sounds like a problem for you to deal with,” he said, no sympathy for the president. Tubbo frowned, stepping lightly up the stairs to join Phil. 

“Yeah but that means I have to be in house arrest as well,” he said. 

Phil paused. He really just wanted to return to his basement, to his project that had been interrupted for long enough. But there was a glint - a hint of desperation to Tubbo’s eyes that suggested maybe he hadn’t done this entirely on accident. 

“Does it?” he asked, his voice neutral. Unimpressed. Tubbo nodded. With a long sigh, Phil opened his door and gestured for the young president to enter. The boy ducked his head to hide a smile and shifted past Phil’s wings to move inside. 

Phil lingered a moment longer, spreading his wings as wide as he could, rolling them to catch the late afternoon sun, feeling the breeze between his feathers one last time before folding them up behind him and moving into the small building. 

Tubbo was petting Friend when Phil shut the door behind him. He looked up as Phil opened a chest, depositing his honey and a few other pieces he’d picked up on the journey. 

“What have you been working on? Can I help?” he asked. Phil glanced over at him and sighed. 

“Suppose so,” he said, digging through the chest to find a spare pickaxe. Tubbo caught it, tested its weight and nodded. Phil led the way, using his wings to guide himself down the water and to balance as he landed on the small ledge at the top of the stairs. 

The basement was already deep, but not as deep as he wanted. He had a number of plans for the space -- mostly to just keep himself busy while stuck in the confined quarters of his two-room house. 

“This is impressive,” Tubbo said, looking around as he landed on the stairs beside Phil. 

“Thanks, mate,” Phil said. “The plan is to go all the way to bedrock.” He didn’t mention anything about breaking through. That probably wasn’t best to bring up around the person who had confined him here. 

“Awesome,” Tubbo said. He kept pace with Phil as they began to move down, pickaxes in hand as they did. “Y’know, me and -” 

He stopped, cutting himself off and shutting his mouth abruptly. Phil glanced sideways at him, seeing the way he shut down, face suddenly hard (hiding intense emotion Phil barely got a glimpse of). 

Phil didn’t comment, knowing exactly what Tubbo was going to say. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tubbo reach to his neck as though clutching at a pendant that wasn’t there. 

Their conversation was limited and about nothing in particular while they worked. Tubbo was more subdued than before, but only slightly. It was enough that Phil could tell he was putting on a front -- he was far more cheerful than he should be. 

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Tubbo lowered his pickaxe and wiped hair out of his eyes. He looked up at Phil, who was a few blocks above him and let out a small breath, dropping his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. Phil paused in his mining, looking down at where he stood. Once again, he looked very small. Very young. 

He tried to kill Techno. 

“I never meant for anyone to get hurt,” Tubbo continued. “I - I didn’t know what to do. I…” He looked to the side, blinking furiously and Phil mined down a block to be more level with him. “Phil, I don’t know what to do.” 

Finally, he looked up, and there were tears shimmering in his eyes. It was a plea for help, and the part of Phil that had adopted three boys who needed him finally won over the part of him that called for blood.

He sat on the edge of his ledge to be level with the boy, spreading his wings slightly and waiting. Tubbo wasn’t finished yet, and he was good at listening. 

“I - I don’t know if Techno is a threat anymore but Quackity said… And… and Dream is waiting, I know. He’s waiting for me to mess up again and… I didn’t want anyone to get hurt but....” His shoulders were shaking and his knuckles were white around the handle of his pickaxe. “But you’re trapped, and Techno… Techno nearly died and…and...” He cut himself off with a muffled sob, the tears finally flowing and Phil reached forward, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

For a moment, Tubbo stiffened under the touch. Then he flung himself forward, wrapping desperate arms around Phil and Phil pulled him into an embrace, folding his wings close around both of them. 

“I miss him,” Tubbo whispered into Phil’s shirt. “I miss him so, so much. I don’t know what to do, Phil. I don’t… it’s my fault. It’s my fault he’s gone. It’s my fault he…” And he trailed off, the sobbing becoming even more intense, his shoulders shuddering. 

Phil didn’t say anything, just rubbed his back, rocking softly, humming a tuneless song. Or maybe it was a song he’d heard Wilbur sing once, a long time ago. 

He hated this. Hated that he had nightmares about Wilbur’s mad laugh, the blood that he felt still stained his hands. Hated the echo of Wilbur that had been left behind as much as he loved what was left of his son. Hated that his youngest had been exiled and alone, lied to again and again. Hated that Techno had been forced to fight once again, after trying to retire. 

Hated that he was holding the broken and sobbing form of a boy who was as much his son as Wilbur, or Tommy, or even Techno. 

Hated that he hadn’t helped them before it was too late. 

Hated that he could have. 

“I’m sorry,” Tubbo whispered again. He had calmed considerably but was still clinging to Phil as though he couldn’t let go. 

“So am I,” Phil whispered. 

He sat there for a long time, holding Tubbo close, until he realized the boy had calmed completely, his breathing even and slow, his eyes closed. 

With a small, sad smile, Phil lifted him into his arms and stood, carefully making his way out of the basement. Tubbo barely stirred, even though the water elevator, shifting closer to Phil, face screwed up tightly. 

Fundy’s bed was empty - it had been empty for a few days, and Phil didn’t want to think about how that made him feel at the moment. He gently lay Tubbo down, prying off his shoes and pulling the covers over him. 

Phil peered around the edge of the door, checking in on the two boys before he slept. Tommy was sprawled out across his bed, snoring lightly, one hand dangling off the edge. 

Tubbo was tangled in his covers, curled into a tight ball, a slight frown covering his face. 

Phil softly stepped into the rooms, untangling the blankets a little and shifting them so they would be more comfortable. He rested a hand in Tubbo’s hair, watching as he let out a small sigh and relaxed fully. 

Tubbo shifted, muttering something, bunching the blankets tightly in one hand, face screwed into a tight frown. Phil sat beside him, one wing spread protectively over him, humming softly as he rubbed the boy’s back. 

Slowly, Tubbo relaxed, his face settling back into a soft, peaceful expression. He let out a long sigh, releasing the death grip on the cover. 

The scars on the face made him seem older when he was awake, but now they only stood out. He looked so young, so peaceful and quiet that the scars were a painful reminder of everything he had been through. 

When was the last time he'd had a proper night sleep?

Phil rested a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder for a long moment, heart aching and wishing he could fix everything. But the children of L’manburg needed to find their own way. He could guide them, show them a better way, help them to break the pattern of their predecessors.

He stood, casting a long look at the chest of spare items Fundy had left behind. 

But only if they let him. 

With a long, soft sigh, he ran a hand down his face and withdrew his pickaxe again. 

Maybe he could actually finish his basement in peace now. 

[votederpycausemufins]

Just about everyone is back together. There’s only a few minor concerning things happening. I’m sure it’s fine.

@petrichormeraki and @helleborusangel

Bad had taken Grian and Jrum back to Jrum’s section of his house, helping plug the bot into his charger. Grian couldn’t find a chair immediately, so he just quickly built one, leaving Bad blinking in surprise.

“So, I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m Grian, one of Jrum’s dads.” And he held out a hand while fumbling for his comm with the other. 

Bad shook Grian’s hand hesitantly. “I’m BadBoyHalo, or just Bad. I adopted Jrum while you weren’t showing up.”

“Yeah, Tommy sent me a message about that earlier.”

“Wait so that really was Tommy we saw earlier? He’s not dead?”

Grian shook his head. “No. He’s been living with us and some friends in a different world for a bit now.”

“Oh… then… he’s not going to like hearing some bad news.”

Grian tilted his head, worried. “Why? What happened?”

“Just after those two showed up,” Bad gestured to Jrum. “A message showed up that Tubbo died and he didn’t respawn.”

Grian leaned back in his chair. “Oh, no he’s alive too. My guess is your admin lied to you so you wouldn’t question his disappearance. Philza and Techno have also been away, so anything you’ve heard about them is probably also false.”

“Wait… so if they haven’t been here, who’s dealing with Ghostbur?”

“Who’s that?”

“Phil’s son Wilbur. He died but came back as a ghost and now he goes by Ghostbur.”

Grian looked down at the ground. “Right… Wil’s dead…”

That took Bad off guard. “Did you two know each other?”

“Yeah. Yeah we did. But I hadn’t seen him in years.” Grian then distracted himself by reading his comm finally. “Well it looks like I’ve missed a lot.”

<MumboJumbo> Found EX. He’s seen both the boys. Jrum’s got a nylium problem and Grum is… 

<MumboJumbo> I think I want to throw up.

<Tubbo_> Tommy and I were sort of kidnapped by Dream, and I think he also did something to Ranboo.

<Tubbo_> but we’re out now and have Grum. I’ve also got Michael.

[Eyes] Current X-S, Y-S, Z-S

[Eyes] End X-F, Y-F, Z-F

<EvilXisuma> What do you mean Tommy is with you? He’s with me.

<EvilXisuma> give me an answer!

<Ph1LzA> I found Ranboo, but he’s got no clue what happened.

<Ph1LzA> no sign of Dream either.

<EvilXisuma> fuck

<EvilXisuma> that’s got to be Theseus with Tubbo, and he’s going after Dream to try and revive his version of him.

<Tubbo_> Hi! We’re fine now! Mumbo found us, though uh, Theseus and Dream are gone now.

<EvilXisuma> that’s… mostly okay. Has anyone heard from Grian or that pig guy.

<Grian> hey! I’m here! I found Jrum and he’s doing okay now! Though just to get things out in the open, I do not quite remember how.

<Grian> whatever was possessing him is gone now though. Still trying to deal with the angry parent who adopted him.

<Grian> How’s Tommy doing btw?

<EvilXisuma> he’s still not awake.

<Grian> any chance you can bring him here? I’ve got Jrum charging and I think we should all meet up in one place.

<EvilXisuma> Pretty sure the giant thing in this place is also a charger though.

<Grian> It did sound like the boys were split up, so that makes sense. Can you still come over here?

<EvilXisuma> Fine, but only because you blacked out before

Grian sent his coordinates and then set his comm down. Then he started crying. Jrum’s condition had been bad enough and the fact that he still seemed upset at him without the plants controlling the bot hurt Grian. And then Mumbo’s reaction to just hearing about Grum without seeing him was terrifying. What had they done to his kids?

His wings flared open when a large hand touched him and he glared up to see the blurry form of the demon that was helping him. “Don’t touch me right now.”

“Just trying to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m not. My kids are… they’ve… it just hurts. It’s only been a few days but they’ve been alone for months and I couldn’t do anything! At least when they were stuck where we first built them we could visit, but even with everything I have, I couldn’t get in.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you- Have you ever heard of the Watchers?”

There was a slight hum as Bad thought. “Yes, though I haven’t really looked into them. I just know they’re really powerful and occasionally interact with various worlds.”

“Well, I’m that. And I’ve been trained as an admin. And based on what I have learned in the past few days, my mom is literally death, so that’s fun.”

“Is that related to you being able to kill the egg?”

Grian let out a short laugh. “No. That’s uh, Mother Spore. She tried using my body as a host, I tried killing her, we have a bit of a stalemate now.”

“You’re not going to-”

“It’s fine. It helped, didn’t it?” Grian asked.

Bad nodded, it had indeed ended up helping them. “Just making sure it doesn’t cause more of the same.”

Grian nodded before looking back over to Jrum. He was currently in sleep mode as he charged which was fine, but Grian still wished the bot was awake. His eyes then fell on Jrum’s empty arms. He checked his inventory and was glad to find one of the backups on him, so he pulled out a faux diamond block and carefully put it in Jrum’s arms. The bot stirred slightly, but then hugged the toy when it was in his arms.

“Oh, you have another one of those?”

Grian nodded. “Yeah. Jrum and I were out one day and found a trader selling them. We got eight of them for an emerald and a real diamond block.”

Bad’s eyes widened. “You must really love him if you’d spend that much.”

“It’s not actually that much to me, but I would have gladly spent more if it would make him happy.”

Bad nodded and then went over to a chest and pulled out an identical toy that seemed to have been dyed red. “Here, this is the one he had before. He got upset when it turned red. The egg was able to change blue things red and red things to white.”

Grian nodded and took the toy. “I’m pretty sure I can fix this. Just not until we get back to Hermitcraft. I’m pretty spent right now and still need to get us back home.”

Then Xannes was suddenly in the room holding Tommy in his arms. “Get me somewhere to put him down.” Bad jumped up and grabbed a bed for them to set Tommy down on while Grian started checking Tommy over. He looked mostly uninjured, but he seemed to have a large scar that hadn’t been there before over his stomach area. Grian carefully tested the area and was glad to see he was at least reacting to what was going on, but not in pain from the new injury.

“How’s he doing?” Xannes asked as Grian continued to look Tommy over.

“Well, him still being unconscious is extremely worrying, but I’m not seeing any physical injuries other than this large scar.”

“He got killed and revived. I didn’t get a good look at what happened, but I would assume that scar is from what killed him.”

Grian nodded, then carefully worked on sitting Tommy up. “Any head injuries?”

“He ended up against a wall, could’ve been slammed there.”

“Good to know.” Grian moved Tommy’s hair around to see if he could spot anything that was hidden. “You said revived?”

“We have a three life system here.” Bad spoke up. “If a death is important enough, we lose a life. After we lose all three, we’re dead for good. Though there are exceptions.”

“Yeah, Tommy mentioned those. Took us a while to convince him we didn’t have that.” Grian looked over to Xannes. “How do people normally react when they’re revived?”

“Normally they’ve got ghost pains for a while and are more violent.” The helsmit explained. “But everyone has a different reaction. I’m also not sure how different this is from hels, plus the fact that it was an instant revival.”

“That’s probably it then.” Grian frowned. “Makes me almost consider trying to contact Ellen. But she might not be around anymore…”

“Who?” Xannes asked, but Grian brushed him off.

“Our best bet is to try and kill him again and let him stay dead for a few minutes before reviving him again. I… It’s not the greatest thing in the world, but it… should work. And he should be linked to this bed.”

“Wait, are you just going to kill him again?” Bad asked, making sure he was really understanding the situation. “That seems like it would make it worse!”

“I know! But it’s probably that he died and got revived quickly enough that his mind or soul or whatever you want to call it didn’t catch up.” He then sighed, noticing his hands trembling and trying to calm them down. “I mean, I still can’t be sure… but again, best bet.”

Xannes looked skeptical, but relented. “Fine, but we try this once. Even if it only sort of works, we’re not trying it again.”

Grian nodded. “Alright, so I’ll just step outside while you do that… okay?”

“What, you’re making me do it?”

“You’re the one with evil in your name.”

“My name is Xannes!”

Grian held up his communicator. “Yeah, but it’s evil on here, and you got to choose that for yourself, so don’t complain.”

Xannes grumbled, but accepted the answer as Grian stepped out of the room.

“Grian finally got back to us.” Tubbo told Mumbo since his hands were still full from carrying Grum. “He’s also got Jrum with him and I’m guessing he’s killed the egg.”

“The what?”

“Uh, a plant that was possessing people.”

“Ah, EX did mention that.” Mumbo nodded. “Anything else?”

“Well he says he doesn’t remember how he did it.”

“Ah, have to talk to him about that once we get back home to ask if it was a conscious decision or not.”

“And Michael, someone found Boo and he’s okay.” Tubbo told the ziglin, who oinked happily. He then read more and looked back to Mumbo. “Still nothing from Techno though, but Grian wants us to meet up with him at some coordinates. Xannes and Tommy seem to have already moved there.”

Mumbo nodded, pausing to heft Grum up a little to readjust his grip on them. “Which way is it from here?”

“It’s on our current path. Closer actually. That’s the location of Bad and Skeppy’s mansion. Technically the house you had us going towards would have been closer, but only because of the trident path.”

“That makes sense.” Mumbo nodded, before noticing something in the distance. “What’s that?”

Tubbo squinted to make it out at first, but then it was obvious what it was to him. “Pandora’s Vault. It’s a prison Dream commissioned. So far it hasn’t been used as far as I’m aware, but obviously a lot has happened, so I’m not sure anymore.”

Mumbo nodded. If there weren’t more pressing matters at hand, he would be curious, since Tommy had said large builds such as that weren’t common on the server if they existed at all. He was still staring at it when Grumbot suddenly stiffened up and he nearly dropped the bot in shock.

Life Counter active. Entity Check TommyInnit. Death: canon. Life counter: Infinite lives remaining. Commence Respawn.

Just as soon as it had happened, Grumbot was back to normal, though trembling again. Mumbo hugged the bot just a little tighter for a moment before looking at Tubbo. “Are you sure there’s not a faster way?”

“The only other option is still boats.”

Mumbo looked down at Grumbot. There was no way for the four of them to all sit in one boat. He couldn’t row since he needed to make sure nothing happened to Grumbot and obviously the robot wasn’t in any condition to row instead. Theoretically they could manage to get the two of them and Tubbo into the boat if Mumbo scrunched up and continued to hold Grumbot in his lap, but that would involve leaving Michael behind since the child couldn’t row a boat on his own.

“Right, okay. Still walking.”

The group continued to travel, Mumbo and Michael both getting spooked by suddenly getting mining fatigue as they got too close to the prison. There was a small river which they were able to cross easily, but a second wider river had them pause as Tubbo built them a bridge. “The mansion is essentially right on the other side of this river. We’ll just be passing the entrance to the prison first.”

“Is it that place made of quartz in the distance?”

“Yeah.” Tubbo answered, before getting a second look at it. “Looks like they got an extension built onto it though. So that’s new.”

“Might be where the others are. You said they were charging Jrum. I saw the one charger in the other house and it had to be built pretty big. That might be where it’s housed.”

Xannes came out in a few minutes to bring Grian back into the room. “I didn’t need to revive him. He respawned naturally, which isn’t a good sign. Because of that, nothing’s changed.”

“A-Are you sure? Nothing at all?”

Xannes rolled his eyes but did his best to keep Grian from spiralling. “Yeah, but that’s just from trying this. We’re still waiting on the others to show up and they should be able to come up with other ideas.”

“R-Right… I guess you’re right.” Grian nodded before going back to his chair.

Bad moved closer to Xannes and whispered to him. “I’m guessing he’s close with Tommy?”

“Obnoxiously so. I’ve heard a number of stories from Jrum about Grian and Tommy doing something together. Honestly not sure how they didn’t realize they were related in the first place.”

“What the muffin?!”

“...Did… Did you just use the word ‘muffin’ as a curse?”

“Maybe I did! Now what do you-” Bad cut himself off to go back to a whisper. “What do you mean they’re related?”

“The two of them are brothers. Not sure the current state in this dimension, but as far as I know, Grian’s a triplet and Tommy’s younger brother to the three. Same parents too.”

“Tommy’s mom is also a fridge?”

This time it was Xannes’ turn to be shocked. “Their mother is a what here?!”

Before much else could be clarified, there was a whine as Jrum woke up. “Stop yellinggggg. I’m sleepyyyy!”

“Jrum! You know that’s no way to act when guests are over.” Bad scolded, but Grian stopped him.

“Let him sleep. Charging in the middle of the day always messes with his sleep schedule.” Then Grian pulled out a certain shiny blue rock. “Besides, it just means he won’t get any diamonds.”

Immediately Jrum was fully awake and jumping off the bed to grab the diamond out of Grian’s hand. “Give give give give give!!!” Grian tried to hold the diamond up in the air, but Jrum just started climbing up him like he was a tree.

“Calm down! I’m not- mmph! Don’t step on my face! Okay fine! Take it!” Grian gave the diamond to Jrum who instantly put it into his inventory. “I’ve never seen that before.”

Now that the diamond was safely in his possession, Jrum realized exactly who was there and went back to his bed with a slight angry frown. “Well what do you expect when you just offer him up a diamond like that?” Bad asked, going over and patting Jrum’s head comfortingly.

“For him to wake up for it. I mean, he did, but the climbing and being very grabby is different.”

“Again, you offered up a diamond. To Jrum. He’s got a love for diamonds that could rival just about anyone. More than once he killed someone just because they hadn’t put their diamonds in their ender chest quite yet so he took them.”

“Jrum!” Grian scolded the bot, who just got angrier.

“Why do you care? You weren’t here.”

“Jrum, I swear we were doing everything we could to find you and Grum. Your daddy and I would never want to lose you. Some bad people just made things really hard for us. But once we could come to find you, so many people wanted to help because they know how much your daddy and I love you and how much you mean to us.”

“But why’d it take so long?! You should’ve figured it out sooner!”

“Well, you know the stories I’ve told you about my time machine, right?” Grian asked, Bad looking over to Xannes and mouthing the words as a question for clarification. “Well, it was like someone took this whole world and put it in the time machine, so that way everything seemed so much longer for you.”

“Well that’s stupid.”

“It is! But now we’re here. And I know you’re upset. You’re upset like I was at your grandpa.”

And that was what got through to Jrum. Back before any of this had happened, when Phil had first arrived and Grian had been upset at the older avian, Jrum was worried about ending up the same way with his dads. He didn’t want that to happen, but now it was starting to. He started crying and mumbling out apologies, but Grian just hugged the bot and rocked him. “It’s okay. You don’t have anything you need to say sorry for. It was scary and we weren’t there. But it’s okay now. It’s okay.”

The door opened up with a slight slam, making everyone there jump. “Oh thank goodness, you’re all here. Along with… a very tall… man?” Mumbo questioned, his previous train of thought already out the window.

“Demon actually.”

“Alright. Now what was I going to say?”

Tubbo poked his head out from behind Mumbo. “We’re back with Grum.”

“Right! Yes that was it!”

“I’ll get another bed.” Bad said, leaving the room to find one. While they waited, Grian and Mumbo met eyes and smiled sadly at each other, glad that at the very least they had their boys back.

“How’s Jrum doing?”

“Okay. Just upset that he was so angry at us.” Grian answered, rubbing the bot’s back for some comfort. “What about Grum?”

Mumbo frowned and looked down at the bot in his arms. “Not good. He’s a mess to the point I’m worried we’d have to…” He trailed off, not wanting to complete the sentence. “The admin ended up abusing the fact that he was a robot, barely treated him like a person. God… he’s in such disrepair just physically, and while Tubbo said he was speaking earlier, he hasn’t said a word since I’ve seen him.”

“Well, maybe once he wakes up, he-” Grian started to suggest, but Mumbo cut him off.”

“No, Grian, he’s been awake the whole trip here.”

Grian’s eyes widened and he shifted to calmly speak to Jrum. “Can I set you down so I can look at your brother?” Jrum shook his head and held Grian tighter. “Alright then.” Part of Grin wanted to push to get Jrum to say yes, but he also knew that that could just find a way to make things worse.

Bad finally returned with a bed and put it down between the two already existing beds. Mumbo tried to put Grumbot down, but the robot refused to let go and they ended up needing to pry it off of the redstoner. They nearly stopped trying when it was enough to get Grum talking, it simply saying ‘no’ a number of times. But still, they needed to get a good look at Grum, and being held in Mumbo’s arms wouldn’t help with that.

For the most part, Grumbot was still the same as when Tubbo had found it. The only difference was the screen flickering back and forth between the one it had been stuck with and its regular face. Also, instead of lying down on the bed normally, the moment Grumbot was on the bed, it curled up into a ball.

It hurt Grian to see his son in such a state. He didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until Mumbo was next to him taking deep breaths for him to follow with. He slowly helped Grian lie down on the bed with Jrum, obvious to the fact that the avian needed rest with everything going on around him.

Xannes pulled Tubbo out of the room at one point, and when they returned, the two of them were accompanied by Phil and Ranboo who talked in hushed tones. When Grian had finally gotten to sleep, Mumbo took Jrum into his arms to discuss things with everyone else.

Tommy pressed his hands against his closed eyes. He hated how sore he felt, but he supposed that’s what happened when you get your last life taken. Then he paused. If he lost his last life, was he alive? Tommy pulled his hands away and opened his eyes. He didn’t look see through, but his skin definitely wasn’t supposed to be ash gray.

He cursed and got out of his bed, looking around. That was his bed, but not from the SMP. The wood around him was all from Grian’s old hobbit hole, and the last place he had slept before… well before everything happened. 

Tommy started looking through chests, glad to find a spare comm in one of the chests. He turned it on and was glad to see it was one of the backups X had made him after the first time he managed to break one. He hadn’t wanted to accept it at first, but apparently a number of the hermits lost or broke their communicators a lot, so he was more willing to take one.

<TommyInnit> Alright, hey guys. Guess who is having a crisis

<TommyInnit> btw, how long has it been since I left?

<GoodtimeswithScar> What seems to be the problem?

<Xisuma> Not that long. Definitely under half an hour.

<TommyInnit> I think I’m dead.

<TommyInnit> I died in the smp and I guess I lost my last life, but I respawned here

<Iskall85> Okay, and?

<TommyInnit> Well I didn’t respawn right. I look like I came out of some of those photos Grian had of demise.

<Rendog> black and white?

<TommyInnit> Skin yes, clothes no. blood is currently blue.

<Xisuma> I’m on my way over

<StressMonster> Does it hurt?

<TommyInnit> I mean, I’m sore? But not really. It’s not raining, right?

<joehillssays> nah, you’ll be fine Tommy

<TommyInnit> Okay.

<TommyInnit> panickign more now

<TommyInnit> i cna;t fucking get outside

<ZombieCleo> Someone blocked the door?

<TommyInnit> np. Nothing theere.

Tommy had tried going outside, but ended up running into something invisible. He tested it and found it was just a sort of invisible wall in front of the door. He remembered Xannes making something similar to trap dream in, so for a moment he thought it was the helsmit's doing. So Tommy broke a hole into the wall and tried going through that. But he just ran into another invisible wall. Had it been just outside where he mined, he would just be upset, but this time it was right in the space where he mined. He tried not to panic too much, but it was hard not to.

<TommyInnit> i’m jus stuck

<TommyInnit> help

[hermits-that-craft]

Staying With The Traitor - Chapter One

A Reluctant Agreement

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26695042/chapters/65115157

“Gentlemen I believe I could provide you sanctuary.” Eret says quietly, appearing around the corner. Wilbur moves in front of where he thinks Tommy could be, though he can’t see the teen.

“Eret how fucking dare you!” Tommy yells, his voice falling from besides Wilbur.

“I have value still.” Wilbur spits towards Eret, who flinches away from the ex-president of L’manburg.

“You’ve been betrayed, I can help you.” Eret says, offering his hand to Wilbur.

“Eret the fucking nerve of you.”

“We know we’ve been betrayed.” Wilbur glares at him. “For a second time.”

“Whoever you’re mailing won’t come for a few weeks, even if they leave the second they get the letter.” Eret points out, and Wilbur nearly crushes the letter in his fist. “I can offer you sanctuary in a place that Schlatt won’t look for you, so you don’t have to run constantly.”

“We can run, Eret.” Tommy says, the potion slowly wearing off. He pulls out another invisibility potion, his form flickering as it comes into view.

“You shouldn’t have to run, Tommy.” Eret says sympathetically. “You’re just a kid. This shouldn’t have happened to you.”

“I’m not just a kid!”

“You’re only sixteen, you shouldn’t have been thrown out of your own country, political opposition or not.” Eret looks to Wilbur. “You know where to find me, just…

Consider it.”

---

Dear Technoblade, Do you remember how you said that it was a bad idea for me to hold an election? So soon after becoming president? You were right. Of course you were right. Schlatt became president. He kicked me out - which is fair, I ran against him, I should have expected that. But he also kicked Tommy out. Tommy! A child. Tubbo’s working for him, Tommy says that he doesn’t want to but I’m not so sure. Tubbo doesn’t appear to be harmed, though. We can’t get close enough to tell. We’re on the run. We’re going to be on the run for a while, we need your help. We need to take back L’manburg. Please Techno, please come to help. Thanks, Wilbur Soot (Though this is mainly Tommy’s idea. I don’t want to get betrayed again get you mixed up in all of this)

---

Tommy shivers in the little dirt house they had made, dug down and buried six feet under a tree. Wilbur sighs, wrapping a blanket around Tommy’s shoulders, not saying anything as they listen to rain and footsteps above them. Quackity shouts directly above them, and Tommy flinches, a bloodied bandage over his arm. Wilbur lifts a finger over his mouth, reminding Tommy to be as quiet as he can as Wilbur attempts to bandage his leg. They can’t make out anything, and soon the footsteps leave, but Wilbur doesn’t relax, even as he watches Tommy drift off into sleep.

It’s too quiet.

Not like L’manburg, or Manburg, with the sounds of potions brewing and people whispering off into the night, or owls flying and bats screeching. There was alway noise to keep him company on long nights.

Now, the only sound is Tommy's breathing, slow and steady. A beat to keep the time. Wilbur tucks Tommy into the bed, promising to himself that tomorrow night, he’ll ask to sleep in it. Just like he promised to himself last night, and the night before. 

“I’ll be back soon, I’m just going to get some food for us to have tomorrow.” Wilbur promises the sleeping teen, creating a small hole for him to climb out of. They’ll need to find a new base soon.

The cold night air nips at Wilbur, and he is quickly drenched by the rain. Wilbur shivers, imagining the warmth of L’manburg on a night like this. Tubbo, Tommy, Fundy, Jack, Nikki and himself all around a fire, laughing, telling stories. Eret, maybe, if Nikki brought him with a small comment about a big, cold and empty castle. A few comments about betrayal and a trade of wine later and the room would be singing again, the two teens trying to get wine from Fundy or Jack while Eret tells Nikki and himself about how his kingdom is going. Wilbur doesn’t blame Eret for the betrayal, even if the wound is still so fresh that it stings. Who wouldn’t betray the side that appeared to be losing for a kingdom to rule over? Eret did seem to enjoy being the king, and he was fairer on his people then Dream was.

Wilbur frowns, catching himself thinking about Eret in the past tense. He can’t remember when that started. Eret should still be king, and he should still be a fair and just ruler.

Wilbur pulls himself out of his memories and buries his yearning for the past under a need for food. Tommy will need food in the morning, and so will he. Neither man can afford to starve out here, so far away from civilisation.

Not far enough, it would appear.

“This is Dream SMP land, Schlatt.” Eret’s voice cuts through the forest, and Wilbur freezes, pulling the brown coat he found around him as he ducks behind a tree. “I sincerely hope that you aren’t breaking our treaties.”

“I’m simply looking for two outlaws.” Schlatt’s voice sends cold terror down Wilbur’s spine, and he looks to the tree that Tommy is sleeping peacefully under. Tommy could die tonight, if Schlatt finds him. Or worse.

“From my understanding, you exiled them. They are no longer in your land, in Manburg, so you are breaking the treaty that was signed for your protection.”

“Oh please,” Schlatt laughs. “Do you mean to tell me that the treaty signed by outlaws is still in effect? In any case, those two are also in Dream SMP land. They’re breaking the treaty as well, unless you let them in.”

“They have citizenship of Dream SMP, because unlike some democratically elected leaders, I don’t allow children to be country-less.”

“But they are homeless.” Schlatt laughs, and Wilbur freezes, mulling over the new information. They’re under Dream SMP rule again. “Why are you out here, Eret? I thought that you would want to stay inside your big empty castle.”

“I heard your men shouting for a hunt, I was concerned for my citizens and came out here.”

“So you know where they live?” Schlatt’s voice is light, the question darker than his voice portrays it.

“Why does that matter to you.” Eret’s voice goes dark, as though he knows the danger that the question poses, the fear it sparks in Wilbur. 

“I'm looking for them. I want to talk.” Wilbur holds his bow tighter, not prepared for a fight but ready if he needs to be.

“With netherite weapons.” Eret’s voice is incredulous. “I don’t believe that it will remain peaceful.”

“What's your point?”

“Go home, Schlatt. You have a country to rule, leave my citizens to me.” Eret growls, and Wilbur hears a twig snap as one of them moves.

More twigs snap, and Wilbur can hear Schlatt grumble under his breath as he walks away. Before he can move, before he can even release the breath he didn’t know he was holding, Eret sighs.

“I’m sorry I can’t do more for you two.” Eret mumbles, and Wilbur can hear the sorrow in his voice. “I’m trying my hardest. I really am. I’m making sure everyone is doing okay, I’ve hidden Nikki from Schlatt and his lackeys and they’re none the wiser. If only I could convince Tubbo to join Nikki, then at least I could say that he’s okay.”

“Thank you, Eret.” Wilbur whispers, and Eret takes in a sharp breath.

“Wil? Are you alright? Are you hurt? Where’s Tommy, is he okay?”

Wilbur steps out from behind the tree, and he sees Eret for the first time in what feels like years. The king has bags around his eyes, his crown discarded for a netherite helmet and armour glistens in the rain. Hair pokes out from under the helmet, and behind Eret’s sunglasses his eyes glow so bright that Wilbur can see them before he sees the bags that appear so prominent. His cape isn’t on, his regal attire clearly exchanged for more practical wear. As though he thought a fight would break out. A sword rests in its sheath, and Wilbur can see the glow from the enchantments on it. Eret, despite the bags under his eyes and the concern written into his features, looks regal, put together.

Wilbur knows that he must look like shit next to him. Covered in dirt and mud and blood from not being able to stop for a moment to clean himself, bags under his eyes from days of sleeping on dirt or stone floors, and messy hair hidden under a saturated beanie. Wilbur’s probably the most clean that he’s been since the election, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t look like a drowned rat.

“Tommy’s alright.” Wilbur finally answers, his voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, he’s hurt, they haven’t stopped hunting us, but he isn’t dead. Asleep, right now.”

“You left him by himself?” Eret doesn’t sound like he’s judging Wilbur, just asking him a polite question, but Wilbur can’t help the rage that leaps into his throat.

“Someone has to feed him. We need food after all. It’s safest to hunt at-”

“I know, I’m not judging. Just wondering if the person who you wrote that letter to arrived.”

---

Dear Wilbur Soot, I’ll come as soon as I can. I need to do some things with Dad Phil first, but I should arrive in about a month. Maybe two months, if I can convince Phil to come with me. Don’t die, Techno

---

“My offer still stands, you know.” Eret says, walking towards Wilbur. “If you’d like to, I can set you both up a room tonight and you can come in the morning.”

“How would I tell Tommy?” Wilbur sighs into his hands, sitting on the leaf covered grass. “I promised him freedom from tyranny, and now a dictator is hunting him and our only refuge is the country that we started a revolution against.”

“I think he’d be more happy to be safe,” Eret suggests, and Wilbur glares at him. “I mean, he’s just a kid. He needs the safety.”

“Could we go to your castle now?” Wilbur asks, his voice small. Guilt eats at his insides as he looks to the ground. Selling Tommy and his freedom for safety. Selling their freedom to a traitor. Sure, a friend when Nikki invited him in, a person they took pity on in a lonely castle, but someone who would sell them out to the highest bidder, just like last time.

“Of course, do you want me to wait here?” Eret asks, and a smile forms on his lips. Wilbur glares at the grass, weighing his options.

“No.” He says, standing slowly. “Unless you don’t want to crawl through a one by one block dirt hole.”

“I don’t care.” Eret shrugs. “As long as I can make sure you’re both safe.”

Bastard. Wilbur spits in his mind, but he keeps his mouth shut as he walks towards the small hole. How is he supposed to tell Tommy, especially with Eret in the room with them? How can he let the boy down?

Wilbur kicks a stone, sighing to himself. It’s for the best. It’ll keep Tommy safe.

---

Dear Tommy Innit, Sup, I know Wilbur doesn’t want to go through another betrayal, alright? He isn’t that good at hiding what he writes on letters. Look, I know you both. I care about you both, so I’m going to ask you a favour. Make sure Wilbur is alright until Phil and I get there, okay? Thanks, Techno.

---

“Thank god you’re alright!” Tommy says, slowly standing up. He limps to Wilbur, checking the man over for injuries. “I thought that you were hurt, you shouldn’t have left someone could have found you, or followed you back or-”

“Tommy we’re going now.” Wilbur says as Eret steps into the room. “We-”

“What? Why?”

“We can’t stay here.” Wilbur swallows his pride, sorrowful eyes meet Tommy’s tired ones. “We have to stay with Eret until Techno and Phil come, alright?”

Taglist:

@octosghost @firefly464 @surohsopsisofclouds @chromations @magpies-and-glitter @wwwwwelcomegays @asmoljay @ribineran @hawheckin @violet--majesty 

[pandoraborn]

Inspired by this tik tok!

(disclaimer: I know this isn’t canon, but I was inspired by this tik tok/dsmp theory, and I wanted to write a one-shot based around it.)

-----------------------------------------

Mellohi is playing again. Ranboo is raising his pickaxe, ready to break down each piece of obsidian to try and find the hidden jukebox, afraid that someone had found his panic room and vandalized it. He���s screaming, too. He doesn’t know who to scream at, but his cries are echoing around him regardless, bouncing off the walls and causing his own voice to pierce his thoughts.

“I don’t know what’s happening!” Ranboo yells out. A piece of obsidian falls when he strikes the wall, but there’s nothing more to see. Bits and pieces are falling around him, but he kicks them away as he continues to strike the wall in random spots. He’s becoming more frantic, especially now that he can hear a faint voice above the music.

“Talk to me! Help me!”

“Ranboo.”

That’s Dream’s voice. That’s Dream’s voice. That’s Dream’s voice. That’s... Ranboo cranes his neck back, staring up at the ceiling. The music is starting to sound more faint, distorted. It’s causing a sense of unease inside of Ranboo, and he wishes he could go home, run to safety in the shelter of Techno and Phil. They’d help him They have to.

“Ranboo, can you hear me?”

“What?” He lowers his arm, followed by his head. He turns toward the exit, as if running out of this room would save him. He can’t bring himself to move, remaining rooted in place. It’s as if his entire body is resisting his will.

“Can you hear me? I need you to wake up and talk to me.”

Why is he hearing Dream’s voice again? Why is he hearing Dream’s voice so vividly? This isn’t like the previous times he’d heard the voice; it doesn’t sound disembodied, and it’s not echoing around him. It’s coming from a certain direction now, so Ranboo forces his head to turn in that direction.

“I didn’t do it,” Ranboo pleads. “I didn’t do anything. I know I didn’t, I would’ve remembered.”

“That’s what I’m trying to help you with. What I’ve been trying to help you with. I need you to focus. I keep losing you.”

The walls themselves almost seem to be melting. Again, Ranboo wonders if breaking through the threshold will save his sanity. There’s nothing to remember, nothing to really soul-search over. He can’t keep letting this voice control him. The panic is clearly manifesting into his own personal demons, and he needs to leave. He needs to leave...

“No, no!” Ranboo shakes his head rapidly. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything, Dream did. I didn’t help him, I just...”

“But you did do it. You admitted to it, which is why I’m trying to help you. You’re not in trouble, I just need you to come back to me. I’ve done nothing but try and help you.”

Dream sounds genuine. Dream sounds concerned, and Ranboo wants to seek him out. He wants that comfort, but there’s something about accepting it from Dream that makes him feel sick. Dream caused all this, Dream caused all the madness that spread.

“Why should I trust you?” Ranboo asks. “I have no reason to trust you or anyone.” Just one step toward the exit. One step closer to freedom. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. It’ll be...

“Because, I’ve always tried to help you. I was here this whole time, with you. I didn’t have to be, but I was. You’re lost inside your head, I’m just trying to help you remember.” This time, Dream’s voice is accompanied by a physical presence that Ranboo hadn’t felt before. He whips back around, expecting to see Dream standing in front of him, but all he sees is more obsidian.

More, more...surrounded by obsidian. There’s so much of it. Even spinning back around reveals that his opening is gone. Replaced with obsidian, no light. No light. No escape. No freedom. Nowhere to run to. No one to-

No.

Dream is with him. Dream, with his mask on, though pushed up so Ranboo can see his mouth. The lighting is too dim for him to make out features, but whatever lighting is left shows that Dream might be smiling.

“There you are,” Dream says soothingly. “I’ve been trying to wake you up for awhile now. You keep going catatonic on me.”

“Where am I? This...this isn’t my panic room.” Ranboo clutches his chest, looking down. There’s no pickaxe in his hand. There’s still music playing, but now he can see the jukebox it’s coming from. There’s lighting somewhere nearby; a flickering candle or two, because the shadows are dancing across Dream that casts a sinister glow across the man. Is Dream even a man?

“You’re in prison,” Dream explains. “You’ve been here for a few days now. You don’t remember?”

“I don’t...I was free. I was safe, I know I was. I had Enderchest with me and I built my comfort room. And...”

“Ranboo, Techno and Phil came to me with concerns about you. They said you told them some funny things, and you’ve been in here for days muttering about how you needed to remember. I’m the only one you let get close to you anymore, you scream whenever anyone else gets close.” Dream holds a hand up, as if he’s going to offer physical comfort. Ranboo recoils, scooting away from him.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t get close to me, I don’t want to be here, I want to go home!” The panic is welling up all over again, and Ranboo feels his mind starting to go foggy. Along with that is coming a sensation he doesn’t feel very often: tears wanting to well up. He’s not going to cry, not in front of Dream. “Why can’t I go home?”

“Ran, did you blow up the community house?” Dream asks. “I need to know who did it.”

“I don’t know, I really don’t know. I want to go home. I want my friends.”

“I can get Techno for you. He and Phil aren’t too far away. Ranboo, we’re here to help you. I just need you to remember.”

He forces himself to focus. Dream is pushing up the mask more, so Ranboo can see freckles. He didn’t know Dream had freckles. There’s something about this that seems oddly endearing, and equally as terrifying. Ranboo swears he’s seen someone with freckles before. There’s something about this that seems all too familiar, like some forgotten dream.

Dream. Dream.

“Have I talked to you before? Did I really get a disc from you?”

There’s a pause as Dream seems to ponder the question. Ranboo still can’t see Dream’s eyes, but he can see the corners of his lips curl downward, the clenched teeth, or even the way his nostrils flair. He’s clearly angry. Or upset.

“You did,” Dream finally says. “But it wasn’t exactly a pleasant encounter. It could have gone worse, though.”

“What happened? I can’t remember, please tell me. You have to tell me.”

“You’re half enderman, Ran. In that state you might be...confident, but you’re also not great. I gave you a disc, yeah, but it wasn’t because I wanted or needed you. It was because you wanted to prove you were worth something. I didn’t really like what I saw. I was actually a little scared; you kinda held me at knife point.”

“...but...but you said you trusted me more in that state. You...you took advantage of me. I don’t like being used. I just want to be left alone. I don’t want to pick sides.”

“I did trust you. I still trust you. Not just in that state, but in this one as well. I did give you that disc for safekeeping, but it wasn’t because I was forcing you into anything. You were the one determined to prove yourself. Something about not wanting to be spineless anymore. You said you had something else planned, but wouldn’t tell me.” Dream shakes his head. “Was the community center the plan? Did you have anything else planned?”

“I don’t remember!” Ranboo clutches his head, hunching over. He wishes he could fall through the floor. His brain is getting foggy. He’s hyperventilating-

“Ranboo!” Dream reaches out, grabbing at his shoulders. “Ranboo, it’s okay! It’s okay! Look, I just don’t want you hurting yourself anymore!”

“Dream it’s not okay! If I did bad things, then I...then...then I’m a villain, aren’t I? I’m the bad guy! I don’t want to be the bad guy!”

There they are. The tears are finally streaming down his cheeks, in a stupid, pathetic display of confusion, grief, and everything all coming forward at once. Even worse, is the fact that Dream is watching. That adds a whole new level of shame.

“You’re not a bad guy,” Dream says. “You’re confused, and scared, and clearly not well. It’s going to be okay. You’re not in here because you did bad things, you’re in here because I was trying to help you. I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry I pushed you.”

“I don’t want to be the bad guy,” Ranboo chokes out. “I don’t want to be hated, I just...I want to go home.”

There’s a long pause. Dream says nothing as he pulls back slowly, pulling the disc out of the jukebox and putting it away. He says nothing as he reaches down and pulls Ranboo to his feet. Ranboo’s forgotten how much taller he is compared to others. Towering over Dream and sobbing adds a whole new level of awkwardness.

“Sometimes I forget you’re just a kid yourself,” Dream mutters. “With how much you also deal with. Also the height, damn.”

“Will you kill me?” Ranboo asks. His voice is too cracked and broken to speak normally, and it’s barely above a whisper at this point.

“No, I won’t kill you. But listen, I won’t tell anyone. If anyone asks, it was me. No one needs to know what role you played in this. I think you’ve been through enough.”

“So...I’m not the bad guy?”

“No, you’re just confused,” Dream repeats. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover for you.” He reaches a hand out again, pushing the mask up with his other hand. Now Ranboo can see his full face. He tries to memorize it, not wanting to forget that smile. Maybe in this one instance, Dream isn’t the bad guy. That smile on his face looks friendly and even sad.

Ranboo knows he’s going to forget.

“Come on Ran, Techno and Phil are waiting for you.”

Ranboo takes his hand, feeling more security than he’s felt in a long time. Dream may be the ultimate villain, but even gods have soft spots. He’s happy to be Dream’s.

[chaolie]

Fundy Week, Day 5 - Selflessness

I am not posting this late again, I swear, the time itself is just wrong in order to spite me- Anyway, here's what I managed to write for Day 5 of @fundyfiles' Fundy Week! As always, it's also on my Ao3!

Also, for a little bit of diversity, this one actually takes place on the osmp!

Characters: Fundy, Wilbur, Scott, Philza

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Not-described-but-still injury

Summary: Fundy's having a great night filled with planning crime, when he runs into his slightly injured neighbor. And while the two mostly joke around as they wait for healing potions, the fox doesn't hesitate to help when danger appears.

The moon was high and the stars were shining brightly through the otherwise dark night. Though frankly, Fundy didn’t care, and Wilbur seemed to share his idea. They both liked staying outside at late hours, Fundy’s eyes sometimes seemed to work better in the darkness, and Wilbur certainly enjoyed not burning as he did in sunlight. Not to mention, of course, all the small crimes they could commit together while everyone else was sleeping. After all, who was going to stop them? The only person they ever ran into was Scott, and they could always split up and evade him! And before he’d manage to wake up Phil, they’d be long gone anyway!

They were talking quietly, planning their next little heist and deciding who they could take something from, and how to make sure they wouldn’t notice. Either that or how to effectively prank someone without anyone hearing them set up a trap. They enjoyed both of the ideas, but they couldn’t seem to agree on who should they go after on this very calm, quiet night. Just then, a small firework explosion hit right next to them, making them both jump away in panic. Immediately, Wilbur was hidden somewhere in the ground in his Phantom state and Fundy was stumbling to the side, looking for its source. That wasn’t, of course, too hard to find.

“Scott! What the hell!” the fox gasped, looking towards the Starborne’s house. It didn’t take long to notice him, leaning against the wall.

“Sorry, sorry,” the man answered, and seemed to relax. Wilbur quickly resurfaced from the ground.

“Are you okay?” the phantom asked, looking at Fundy before turning to Scott as well. That’s when he realized how injured he seemed. “Both of you?” he clarified.

“Yeah… Scott?” Fundy nodded, finally noticing how weakened his neighbor looked.

“I’m fine, just… First, a creeper exploded, then I got attacked by a literal army of zombies… I thought you were another two of them,” the Starborne explained. “Though, you might want to stay away? One more hit and I’ll probably explode,” he warned them. Fundy and Wilbur exchanged looks, and both decided to put off their mischievous plots for later.

“I have some healing potions in my base, can you grab them for us, Wil?” he asked, and the phantom nodded.

“Of course,” he confirmed before disappearing. Once Scott figured out what the potions were for, he seemed to relax further.

“Thanks,” he sighed, looking in the direction of Fundy’s house.

“Hey, of course! Just remember this as a little favor!” the fox answered. The Starborne turned to look at him with an unamused look. “Relax, I’m just kidding. I don’t want you exploding your own house, I have some tunnels under it! And it’s a cool place too, I guess.”

“Thanks, I happen to like my house too,” Scott laughed quietly. Fundy nodded along.

“Yeah, yeah… How’d you get so hurt, anyway? Aren't you like, always careful and all that?” he asked. Knowing what happens if he dies, Scott always seemed to be prepared for anything.

“I am, but I ran out of iron, and my armor broke. So did my shield, actually,” the man explained. Fundy stayed quiet for a moment, wondering.

“...I didn’t take that from you,” he stated finally.

“I know you didn’t, I used it myself,” Scott sighed. “I accidentally made… ten axes, I think?” he admitted, and Fundy did his best to stifle a laugh.

“Wow, sucks to be you,” he chuckled, and Scott muttered something to himself. Just then, Fundy noticed a white silhouette creeping around the corner of his neighbor’s house with a bow. Immediately, his attitude changed. “Scott, look out!” he called out.

“For what?” the Starborne called back, looking around and quickly spotting the skeleton near him. The monster seemed to spot him as well. “Oh-” He had no shield.

Fundy didn’t think much at that moment, all he figured was that he couldn’t let Scott get more hurt. And suddenly, there he was, jumping forward and soon crushing into the wall Scott was leaning against, managing to get between his friend and the monster just in time to be the one taking the hit. And then, there was an arrow in his arm. Before the skeleton could attack again, Scott seemed to collect himself and shot a firework in its direction, quickly taking it out.

“Holy- Are you okay?” the Starborne asked. Fundy nodded swiftly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just one hit! It does hurt, though… I hope Wilbur brings all the potions he can lift,” he admitted, looking down at his arm. Scott nodded.

“I’m sure he will. Come on, let’s get inside, it’s too dangerous to stand here,” he decided, taking a couple of steps and waiting for Fundy to follow.

“Right. Wait, let me go first,” the fox decided, taking a couple of faster steps to catch up.

They quickly made their way around the wall and took the turn to the main entrance. Seeing a creeper there, Fundy was glad that he went first. He was less glad that he left his weapons at home, but he could manage without them. And sure, being quite shorter from Scott meant that he wasn’t perfectly fit to protect him, but it didn’t matter. If he could only get closer to take the hit, everything would be fine. Well, everything but himself and Scott’s porch.

“Back, back!” he yelled, making the Starborne stumble back a bit. But before he could dramatically launch at the creeper and take the hit, something swooped by and suddenly, there was only gunpowder on the ground.

“Are you okay?!” came a worried, but tired voice, and they finally noticed Philza standing not far from them, sword drawn. “I heard yelling, what happened?”

“We almost died. Can we go inside now?” Fundy answered, stepping towards the door. Scott followed him close behind.

“We shouldn’t stay out here with all those monsters,” he agreed, and Phil could finally see how injured he was.

“Right, you shouldn’t. What happened?” he questioned again as he followed the two inside. “Do you need me to get you some healing potions?”

“Wilbur’s on that already,” Fundy answered, and just as if to confirm it, the phantom’s voice appeared somewhere outside.

“Scott? Fundy?” he called out, looking for the two.

“We’re inside!” Scott called back, and Wilbur quickly went through the wall to join them.

“I have the potions!” he announced, setting them down near Scott and quickly looking around the room. “Oh, hi Phil!” he greeted, and then finally noticed that Fundy was now injured, too. “Wait, what happened to you?”

“A skeleton? It’s good that you brought some extra potions,” the fox answered, reaching down with his good hand and taking one for himself.

“Didn’t you show off how well you can… dodge their shots just a few nights ago?” Phil asked, handing Scott a few potions.

“Well, yeah, but he can’t,” Fundy answered, pointing at the hurt Starborne before downing his potion.

“Yeah… Thank you for jumping in,” Scott thanked. Fundy set down the empty bottle and stared at him for a moment.

“...Jumping in… very funny,” he repeated. “Look, I was just thinking fast, okay?”

“And what did you think about?” Wilbur asked. Only after saying that, he realized that there were better ways of asking ‘what happened?’. Fundy stuttered briefly before sighing.

“I- I just didn’t want Scott’s house and my tunnels blown up, okay?” he answered finally. He saw the Starborne raise his eyebrows in the corner of his eye. Great. “Look, it’s been nice, but I think I should get going before Phil figures out how many petty crimes I committed tonight.”

“Before I what?!” Philza asked, but Fundy was already halfway through the door.

“I’ll come to get whatever’s left of the potions later!” he called and quickly left. Surely, that was enough of a distraction to keep them from overthinking his little sacrifice.

Only an hour later Fundy figured that they were most likely all gone from Scott’s house, and he should go back for his things. He didn’t even have to wait for the sunrise to feel safe from the monsters outside, he had his little tunnel leading straight to the Starborne’s place. Before leaving, he quickly grabbed some iron from one of his personal chests. He figured that his neighbor needed it more at that moment, and he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t accept any stolen iron.

He quickly traveled through the tunnel and climbed up into Scott’s base. He briefly wondered, would the man be asleep by now? If so, he should probably return later… as soon as his head peeked through the hole, he found himself looking directly at the Starborne, who was very much awake and heading towards the hole himself. The two stopped and stared at each other for a moment before the man took a couple more steps forward.

“Hey, I figured I should give you back the potions and bottles,” he explained, and set the two things he mentioned by the tunnel. Fundy finally managed to lift himself up from it, and quickly snatched the things into a bag he brought with himself.

“Thanks, I actually came to pick that up,” he answered as he secured the bag at his side. Then, he reached into his pocket. “And to give you this too, I guess,” he added as he pulled out the iron he grabbed. “To make sure I don’t have to get shot for you again.”

“...Thanks?” Scott answered, carefully taking the iron from him.

“It wasn’t stolen, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Fundy clarified. The Starborne nodded.

“Thanks,” he thanked again, going over to his storage to put it away. “Oh, wait for a moment!” he called before Fundy could return to his fox den. Soon enough, he returned with a very tiny bag.

“Ooh, what’s this?” the fox hummed in wonder as the man handed it to him.

“Just some berries, I figured you might want them. As a thank you for taking the shot for me. To ‘save your tunnel’,” Scott explained, making it clear that he wasn’t convinced by that explanation. And Fundy didn’t feel like he could argue with that.

“You’re welcome. I’ll be on my way now, bye!” he wished before sitting down at his tunnel again, ready to return.

“Have a good night,” Scott answered. And with that, they separated.

***

...Willing to be shot for your neighbor counts as an act of selflessness, right? Right?? I sure hope so!

[devak66]

Blood for the Blood Prince

eyyyyy i did this thing. finally finished

word count: 1559

story idea from: @pawesome28-x

if anyone has ideas for prompts for this au, dont be afraid to send them my way

Cold. Not as cold as his home in the arctic but that doesn't make this place any warmer, snow crunches underneath the piglin’s boots. This visit was simply to check on rumors he had heard, that there was a country being founded nearby. Techno knew he should have gotten Philza, the other member of Syndicate, but he assured himself that it wouldn't be needed, this is just reconnaissance. If things go bad he will call Phil, but he doubted it would get that bad.

A few minutes of walking later, he heard another set of footsteps. Fuck, had someone noticed him already? Techno quickly ducked behind a tree, thinking that maybe this other person did not spot him. The crunch of footsteps in the snow continued, ok… so he wasn't seen. Techno peeked out from behind the tree and saw… Ranboo. He wasn't dressed in anything warmer than what he casually wears… but something was off. Not just the lack of warm wear despite the snow surrounding them… his eyes had a bit more of a green tint to them. His walk was so much … less natural. When he would turn, he'd simply pause and alter course before continuing to walk. While he was looking out from his spot, he noticed one other thing… someone else. Tubbo was watching from afar, much less hidden then the hogfolk were. It was obvious that Tubbo noticed them because there was a strained moment of eye contact. 

After a while of just... staring at each other, Tubbo went over to Techno, glancing over at Ranboo, who was still calmly walking around. “What are you doing here??” The younger of the present two asked

“I have my reasons, what’s going on here?” Techno cut straight to the chase. Ranboo was acting strange, Techno wanted to know why

“In all honesty, i have no clue” Tubbo admitted “This has been happening for a bit… I think he’s sleepwalking. It's very interesting”

“If he’s asleep, why are you hiding?” Techno raised an eyebrow at Tubbo

“I.. didn’t want to accidentally wake him up. I was doing research on how he acted… i thought if i knew about how he acted, then i could find out why” Tubbo said, then realized something “why are you hiding?”

“Just looking around, making sure there’s no government” Techno said, Tubbo’s face grew pale at hearing that. Techno didn’t hesitate, moving past Tubbo, heading towards the hybrid “I doubt there’s any reasoning behind what he’s doing, he’s just sleepwalking. Come on, let's just get him somewhere warm before he freezes out here…” Techno reached out a hand to the hybrid, who’s ears had perked up subtly at the voices. The moment he felt the hand on his shoulder, Ranboo suddenly turned around, startling Techno, who reflexively reached for his axe. Ranboo glared at this potential hostility, a growl growing in his throat, that green tint going to a much angrier red one. Techno took a hesitant step back “what the..” This isn’t the ranboo he knew. This isn't the smiling hybrid who would spend hours of time to make him an axe to replace the one he had lost when destroying L’Manberg. This Ranboo had pure rage and thirst for blood boiling in his eyes. 

In a sudden moment, Ranboo lunged at Techno, pinning the piglin to the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs. Tubbo panicked from his spot in the trees “I forgot to mention. We found out what his other half is! It’s.. wait. If his Enderman half caused him to sleepwalk, or as I’ve been calling it, enderwalk, his dreamon half might be causing him to be like this”

Techno regained himself, kicking Ranboo off of him, pushing the much lighter foe a few feet away. Getting back to his feet and getting his axe in hand he shout to Tubbo, “the fuck is a dreamon?” not taking his gaze from Ranboo. Before his own eyes, the ender hybrid’s body started to change. Those slightly tinted eyes went solid red, his fingers growing claws. 

It took Tubbo a moment to respond. This is a bad situation but information wise… this is great! Maybe he can guess what specifically caused Ranboo to transform that first time with Fundy. “It’s a powerful entity, getting its name from, obviously, Dream.” Ok ok ok. Stay calm. Why did he get hostile..? Techno touching him? No… not really… wait.. techno had reached for his axe “they can hide among humans but usually have features to show they’re not normal, other than an innate weakness to prime water” it… couldn’t just be that… Why did he start his transformation? Techno.. had kicked him off and taken his axe. It… can’t be that… could it be that simple

“Can you tell me anything more useful? Weaknesses?” Techno was using his axe to try to keep Ranboo at bay, even using using the handle, held longways, trying to keep the hybrid from biting him

“There’s the weakness to prime water, but I don't want to hurt him… hm… wait! He can’t pass tilled soil” Tubbo grinned, this could be good. And he thinks he knows why Ranboo transformed. Progress!

“Great” Techno said, very focused on not getting mauled “do you have a hoe or is that useless information” 

“I have a hoe” Tubbo said “I’ll till a circle and we can make a plan” Tubbo said, taking out his hoe and set to work making a safe circle for them in the dirt “ok. It’s ready” techno nodded and with a sudden shove back with the axe to make Ranboo stumble back, techno took the chance to rush to the safety of the circle. He could have easily defeated Ranboo, but he didn’t want to hurt him. Ranboo rushes after Techno when he attempts to escape, but immediately stops when he gets to the edge of the circle of the tilled soil.

“So what's the plan?” Techno asked “how do we get him back?”

Tubbo kept his gaze on Ranboo, who was walking around the border of the circle, looking for a break. An opportunity to attack. “Well… um… there’s the problem. We can't…”

“What?” Techno demanded

“This isn't the first time he transformed, i think i know why he did as well, but based on what Dream said when i visit him-

“Why am I not surprised you visited him?” Techno muttered, he was getting a headache, mainly since the voices were very conflicted. Some were yelling ‘Blood for the Blood God’, as usual, but others were yelling to ‘Protect Ranboo’, so he’s having some fun.

“It was simply for information. He said that we can't snap him out with words, but he… also said that he could train him to not go to this mental state as much… but it would take him being let out of prison. i know he didn’t lie because i had a bit of information i could use against him” Tubbo focused on making sure the circle in the ground stayed safe and that Ranboo couldn't attack them

“One, I’d like to know what that information was, and two, i could train Ranboo” Techno said, quite nonchalantly

“What?” Tubbo looked at Techno, very surprised by what he had said

“I’ve dealt with voices trying to make me kill for basically my entire life, i’m sure i could help Ranboo with this” Techno shrugged, slightly mesmerized by that rage fueled red in Ranboo’s eyes “also i’d like to know what you told Dream to make him cooperate. anything else useful would be great as well”

Tubbo was at a loss for words, nodding “I said to dream how I knew that Ranboo’s his brother. A-“

“Wait WHAT? Actually no. With how often Dream is trying to be ‘sneaky’ and watch Ranboo, this makes sense. Continue”

“He said the reason Ranboo transformed back might have been because he was tired” Tubbo said. 

Techno got an idea “that i can do, cover me for a moment” he grabbed one of the many sticks and dead branches that littered the ground. He sat on the ground and used his axe to make the ends a bit cleaner, then he worked on taking off the smaller sticks on the edge. After a while he had a makeshift bo staff “I’ll make a better one later, but this will work for now” He put away his axe and measured the weight of the staff in his hand. It could be a bit heavier, but he didn't get the chance of finding a better stick

“What are you going to do?” Tubbo asked

“You said if he gets tired he’ll turn back, right?” Techno replied, tubbo nodded in response “I’m going to use this and fight against him without hurting him. I get some combat practice, which never hurts, and i can tire him out”

Tubbo nodded quietly “before you go, I should say something. I think he started to transform as a defense mechanism. He lashed out because he saw you reaching for your axe, then he started to transform when you kicked him off”

Techno sighed “well i guess this will be fun” he said as he stepped out of the circle, he wasn't going to let the fact that this looks like Ranboo, this is something he has to do

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics With Titles That Start With I Masterlist

Links last checked: June 2, 2024

I Ain't Misbehavin' Tonight - doomedhowell

Summary: Dan is in Florida for a family vacation and he misses Phil.

I Can’t Do This - awesomesockes

Summary: Dan hasn’t been sleeping properly due to stress, he is up late trying to edit a video, Phil finds Dan asleep at his keyboard and attempts to carry Dan to bed, Dan wakes up and says he isn’t going to bed until the video is done, Phil frustrated at how silly Dan is being shouts at him that its stupid to overtire yourself over a video and to come to bed, Dan bursts into tears as he is tired/stressed and overlay emotional, Phil pulls him into a hug and carries him to bed where they cuddle

I can’t sleep without you - phanfictionvevo

Summary: Phil has insomnia and refuses to sleep with Dan because he doesn’t want to keep him awake, but maybe sleeping with Dan is exactly what he needs.

Ice Skater - amazingdanielhowell

Summary: “Phil?”

“Dan!” Phil jumped, spinning around on his skates, his face flushing red. “What—why—what are you doing here?”

“I—um—”

I'd Like Some Desperate Measures, Please (ao3) - whatdoiknowx

Summary: Sometimes, Dan likes to push himself. Today is one of those days.

I Don't Blame You Much (For Wanting To Be Free) (ao3) - The_Blonde

Summary: "Phil first saw Dan, in a tiny museum in Manchester, wearing a nametag that said Dylan, cleaning one tiny patch of floor over and over, fringe falling in his eyes, staring at The Sea at Saintes-Maries like it was the best thing he had ever seen, like he was looking at something behind it, something hidden. Phil had said “hey, that’s my favourite too. Everyone always walks straight past it” and Dan had jumped like a startled cat and then instantly scurried off.

Phil had thought no wait stay.

And Dan hadn’t, obviously."

Or: Art Thief Dans and the Phils who love them.

I’d Rather You Were There - howthemoonsuitsthenightsky

Summary: When war breaks out everyone wants to sign up, well, almost everyone.

If These Sheets Were The States, And You Were Miles Away - howellslester

Summary: Dan really fucking hates distance.

I hope you know I won't let go (Ao3) - kategkateg

Summary: Dan has series of breakdowns which ends in him leaving their home for more than a week. There are letter and breakfast left for Phil, a ton of questions with no answers and an opened door to Dan's room with a permission to do whatever Phil wants. What does it all mean and what will happen to their friendship after their friends leave their house after Christmas Eve party and Dan gets some courage to speak up? A chaptered story of things being soft in the end.

ii: ty ly bb - Manchestereyes

Summary: 28/04/2018 - 28/11/2018: An era that will live on in countless hearts and memories, including dnp’s. An era of new friendships made, old friends meeting for the first time, and an abundance of laughter and tears. Most of all, though, it’s been an era of growth and discovery.

I knew your skin until I didn't (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Everything is different and yet everything is the same.

Some freckle-worship because our boys are back from America and covered in them.

I'm Fine - awesomesockes

Summary: Dan is sick but he doesn’t want Phil to know but then he faints on the radio show.

I’m So Fucked - adorkablephil

Summary: Dan uses a dildo

In Faded Holograms They Speak (ao3) - artdeficient

Summary: They’re in japan and nothing seems to make sense, so they hide in hotel rooms and pretend they can’t see what’s right in front of them, and it works, for a while. (badlands au based off of halsey's album)

In the End I’d Do It All Again - phancywork

Summary: “Lester, you’re with Howell.” With these words their English teacher assigns Dan and Phil to be partners for a project. The two boys have never spoken before but they quickly discover that they have quite a lot in common. Phil just hopes he won’t screw it up.

It’s Time - doomedhowell

Summary: A high school AU where a girl is obsessed with Phil and is convinced that they’re dating, even though Phil’s secretly gay and dating Dan. Phil’s finally had enough and decides it’s time he and Dan come out.

[mihidecet]

Sbi&CO d&d AU: Don’t Keep me Waiting (2/?)

I’m back! Chapter two is finally here and, as promised, it’s a bit of a beefy one!! I do hope you’ll like it!

A special shoutout to Cassie and my sister, for basically creating the newly added character, and that anon who totally didn’t guess who was coming a week before I posted the chapter xD

The noise inside the tavern hits them like a tidal wave the instant they open the heavy looking oak doors: a cacophony of people talking, friends cheering, music playing and orders being shouted from one side of the room to the other. 

On one hand, it makes Wilbur flinch and recoil, his ears ringing with the sudden switch from being in the quietness of a mostly desert street to this; the good thing is nobody really pays any particular attention to their group entering. They do of course gather some looks and stares - they're a big group after all, most people here are either in small, four-people groups or even smaller. 

But Techno's trademark pink hair is safely hidden under a hood, in order to allow him to walk around without getting constant stares - respectful, fearful or otherwise. They're here to have fun, not pick fights; at least that is what they had decided on before signing up for the tournament. Except for Tommy: to quote the little demon, they were there to win.

Nevertheless. 

Wilbur is there, at that moment, in that tavern, to play and to share his music with a willing audience. So, while most of the others hurry to grab a big enough table and some extra chairs, Wilbur makes his way towards the innkeeper's desk, tail swinging back and forth, mind already running with ideas on what to play for this specific audience - adventurers are a picky sort, they either like your song or they boo you out of the tavern, and he wants to give a good impression especially with the tournament coming up-

The innkeeper sees him and Phil approaching, his eyes darting to his brand new splendidly hand carved guitar - he will never ever ever be able to repay Tubbo - before he lets out a tired sigh. Which comes crashing down onto Wil's mood like an avalanche, covering instantly all his bright ideas and expectations. 

It's Phil's hand on the small of his back that brings him back into focus, prompting him to regain the sway in his step - no time to mope, they're here for at least another month.

"I don't suppose you have a spot open for tonight?" He asks, putting on his best vendor voice, and he can see the tiredness in the eyes of the person in front of him. 

"I do not. You can have half an hour in two days. Name?" The person asks, voice flat with the face of somebody who's had to repeat this process so many times just tonight. So Wilbur swallows down his protest - half an hour in two days is a horrible deal - and nods amicably. 

"Wilbur, Wilbur Soot." The innkeeper looks to be thinking intensely for a moment - a spark of hope shines in his chest as he hopes for a moment that his name will be recognised, since he's spent the past years building up his fame by working tirelessly -, then they shake their head and write down something that vaguely resembles his name next to some numbers. Wilbur smothers the irrational, embarrassing disappointment that threatens to rise in his throat.

"You have my thanks, good sir!" He adds enthusiastically, voice pitched a bit too higher than normal, because a part of him feels for the poor soul who has to deal with people of all sorts, and swivels on his feet.

Phil's hand on his shoulder brings him out of his own mind as he's definitely not storming away from the poor innkeeper's table. He doesn't even need to say anything: Wil deflates instantly, tense shoulders sagging instantly and a long sigh leaving him as he leans into the elf. 

"I really wanted to play." Wilbur grumbles as Phil's hand moves from one shoulder to the other, effectively bringing him into a half-hug and ruffling his hair with a chuckle. 

"I know, and you're going to." The elf replies, tone calm and reassuring, and Wil can't help but ache a little, feeling like a kid all over again and not liking it even a little bit. Once, he would have stayed quiet and stewed into his own brooding mood, but he knows now that he can rely on the others for situations like these. So he ignores how awkward he feels at protesting for something as silly as this, and lets himself pout. 

"Half an hour is so little, though. And since we're not taking any jobs for a while it could help with paying for the tavern." Phil quietly hums in response and experience tells him that he's pondering over a good answer. Wil's eyes scan the tavern - bigger than he first realised - looking for Tubbo's bee, as he figures it's going to be the easiest thing to recognise in the literal sea of adventures of all kinds.

"You know we don't need it. And I'm sure once they hear how good you are, they'll be asking you to play every night." Phil comments, starting to guide him towards what he thinks is the right direction, but Wil is a bit more preoccupied with preening, slightly flustered, due to the compliment. One would expect him to be used to them, but the thing with his friends is that praises from them always feel a little more true, a little more honest, and they always hit him in the best way possible. 

When they join the rest of the team - clustered around a single medium sized table - Wil's mood has significantly improved. 

There's food already waiting for him and as soon as he sits down a fox jumps in his lap and curls up, snout raised towards him to slowly blink at him before he buries his head in his tail. 

Wilbur starts digging into his meal with gusto, lightly scratching behind Fundy's ear as the shifter decides to take a nap.

The tavern is, overall, a nice place. It's cool to see so many adventurers gathered together, and hearthwarming to be able to see many new friendships blossoming. 

After the team announcements that same morning, there are some people that have found themselves needing to look for strangers basing themselves only on names - or worse, nicknames. 

Wilbur figures that the people that are in the best position to find their teammates are those who have been paired with bards, as there have been half a dozen different people performing ever since they sat down to eat. 

Luckily for him, his own team has no such problems. Tubbo, Niki and Fundy, on the other hand, are still waiting to learn who their fourth is going to be. Since the training grounds will soon be open for team practices, starting from the next morning in fact, they plan on looking for them there. 

Tymora, or Lady Luck, has apparently other plans for them.

It's nearing midnight when a short man with only one eye and a thick Draconic accent walks up the stage for what seems like the hundredth time that night. In his hand, the same piece of paper that has been progressively getting more and more ragged as the evening went on. He unfolds it as he walks up, thanking the tired looking bard that is leaving the stage, and it rips in half - his only reaction is a sigh and a shrug.

He squints, putting together the parchment and pursing his lips as the two ripped halves slowly mold back together, then calls out, somehow magically raising his voice over the sound of the tavern's clients talking and clapping for the leaving bard.

"Next up: Quackity! Come up the stage!"

Fundy's fox claws suddenly dig into Wilbur's legs, making him wince in pain and choke on his sip of mead. A split second later, he's got a lap full of disgruntled mage. 

Tubbo, on the other side of the table, is standing on his chair in order to see the stage over a firbolg's shoulders - holding himself up by using Tommy's head, who is extremely unwilling. 

"A bard?!" Fundy exclaims, prompting Wilbur to move his eyes from the stage towards him with a frown.

"What's wrong with bards?!" He asks, helping him get off of him and into his abandoned chair. Before Fundy can find a way to put his rebuttal into coherent words, Wilbur's eyes snap back toward the stage as people are starting to give a quiet, tentative clap for the newcomer.

The kid looks human, probably about Niki's age, and he sits down a bit awkwardly on the stool he brought with himself before plucking a couple of strings on his guitar. They're sitting quite far from the stage, but Wilbur's trained eye still manages to catch the fact that that is an old and well used one - his heart squeezes just a bit at the thought of his former source pride and joy, the guitar he travelled with ever since he left home.

Wilbur knows, viscerally, of the fear that always precedes a performance, especially in front of a new crowd. Especially in front of adventures, whose tastes are ever changing and easy to sway from the crowd's perspective: adventurers either like you, or they don't, and if they don't you're not gonna have a good time.

And yet. 

After checking his guitar, the kid looks up with a bright smile and a confident expression and starts playing - no buildup, no further introduction, no boisterous announcements of his titles or fame. 

And by the gods does he play. 

He's good, but he's not just technically good: he's an entertainer, plays with his guitar as much as he plays with words and with the crowd - clearly making up verses for his songs to fit what happens around him, bantering with the adventurers that step up to his plays of words. Sometimes he bursts out laughing mid verse and despite that his fingers never stop flying over the cords, his laughter becoming part of the song itself. 

Halfway through, he catches Techno's eyes: the shifter raises an eyebrow and Wil simply nods, so Techno nods back

The tiefling is glad to know that they both think he's good, they had been worried about leaving the three newest additions to their team alone with a random stranger. 

And if the enthusiastic way the rest of the team is clapping for him, they're going to get along more than well.

Half an hour later a flushed and visibility sweaty Quackity makes his way down the stage, followed by a thunderous applause and some occasional claps on the back; one passing adventurer even thrusts a pint of ale into his hands, prompting what looks to be a flustered reaction from the bard as he quickly makes his way out of the tavern. 

Either that or he needed some air, which was completely understandable, especially after such an active performance. 

Wilbur is about to comment on the stellar introduction they just received when the sudden noise of hands slamming onto the table - their table - makes him jump in his skin.

"We have to go and say hi!" Declares Tubbo, still standing on the chair - now with Niki helping him not fall to the ground. 

Tommy nods enthusiastically next to him and even Fundy seems to be about to agree. To be quite honest, Wilbur wants to join in too and is therefore about to stand up when Phil raises his hands to get them to slow down. 

"You're gonna scare him if you all corner him outside. How about his three teammates go, on their best behaviour?" The elf concludes, shooting Fundy a pointed look. 

The shifter gapes, looking extremely insulted, then he starts to protest and finally he sighs with a pout. Ah, the wonders of people arguing with Phil. 

"Alright, no pranks and no scamming. Pinky promise." Fundy huffs out, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching down into his chair. Wilbur does his best to chuckle under his breath, because he's not any better, he's just not the target of the reprimand for this time. 

Then, Phil's stare turns to his left. 

"You too, Tubbo. No scams." He states, prompting Tubbo to almost fall over as he agitatedly protests, spluttering out indignantly.

Exiting into the coldness of the night is almost a shock, especially when compared to the almost too warm air inside the tavern.

The sounds coming from inside are almost completely silenced, and when they close the doors behind them the stillness of the night is all they can hear. Fundy shudders for a moment, his body struggling to adapt to the lack of heat, when his instinctive reaction would normally be to morph back into his fox form. He snaps his fingers together, conjuring a small flame in his hands to keep himself warm, and sees Tubbo moving closer to him before he remembers that ah, right, the kid can't see in the dark. 

Still, it's not hard to find their objective - their future friend, as he's already been dubbed by Tubbo. Quackity is leaning on the outside wall, right next to an illuminated window, pint abandoned on his side as he looks at the night sky, one foot tapping on the ground as if following a silent melody. 

In the beginning, the plan had involved Niki leading the way, so that she could introduce the three of them and they could all make arrangements to meet the next morning at the training fields, so that they could all be friends and hang out and win the tournament. 

Said plan is instantly scrapped the instant Tubbo lets out a small gasp, eyes going wide as he hurries to duck around Niki, swiftly avoiding Fundy’s hand reaching out to grab at his shirt. The young human scrambles to reach the sitting bard, who naturally flinches and stares in confusion at the kid running towards him. 

As Tubbo finally gets close, he stops and points at Quackity’s head.

"Hi! You have a moth on your head." 

Fundy’s groan is so loud, it reaches the two of them even though he is currently a couple of steps behind and hiding his face in his hands. Niki’s high pitched giggles follow suit, and are soon joined by a shocked burst of laughter - loud, bright, just like his music - from the human sitting in front of Tubbo. 

"I- Hi! I do?" Quackity asks, voice tilting upwards as he looks up, as if he could be able to see his own head by rolling his eyes into his skull. 

Tubbo giggles seeing him go cross-eyed, and reaches up to gently take the moth in his hand. The little bug’s wings flutter a little as he is moved, apparently not glad to be disturbed from his perch, but he seems to begrudgingly accept his new spot since Tubbo holds him close to the light coming from the tavern’s window. His wings are very pretty, a light grey with black streaks into them that look like the splatters of ink that cover the pages of Tubbo’s various notebooks - his ever growing collection of plans and schematics for new and old projects. According to Tubbo's admittedly limited experience with moths, this one is smaller than one would expect. Very tiny and friendly - "just like you!" Wilbur would probably say if he were there. 

"Aw, look at him! Isn't he cute?" Tubbo coos at his new friend, prompting a slightly awkward chuckle from Quackity as the man moves just slightly away from the insect.

"I'm not a fan of bugs, but, uh- he does look fancy." Q eyes nervously the other two, but Tubbo ignores it, too taken with his new little pal to take care of trivial things like introductions. Niki just smiles warmly and opens her mouth to do so - possibly to also reassure the poor human - , but Tubbo is already speaking again.

"My friend can speak to bugs! He said moths always think of food and light." Quackity is once again seemingly stunned, stuck between the awkwardness of not knowing who the people surrounding him are and the confusion regarding the topic of discussion. He blinks, shooting a look towards the bug in Tubbo's hand before quickly looking away with a light grimace, choosing to focus on Tubbo himself.

"Well, little buddy better not get hurt trying to reach a flame!" Q jokes, letting out a small chuckle. Tubbo's face turns from awed to serious in a split second, his other hand moving to cup around the moth.

"That won't happen, I'll protect him!" He answers determinately, nodding solemnly towards Quackity, who can only gape for a moment before bursting out laughing again, shaking his head a little. 

"So, uh … Is there a reason why you've cornered me, or are you just fans?" He asks after a moment, once his chuckles have died down, turning a raised eyebrow towards Fundy and Niki, still standing a bit awkwardly behind Tubbo. 

"Oh, we are your teammates! We recognised your name and figured we should say hi." Niki explains with a smile, moving to crouch next to Tubbo so that the young human can move the moth closer to her.

"You- oh! Oh! -" Quackity exclaims, eyes widening and suddenly looking at them with less confusion "-That's good to know, what a coincidence!" He comments, chuckling to himself as he wipes a hand over his face, grimacing at the dampness that comes away with it - he really needs to wash up.

"And yet! The gods smile upon us." Niki says with a smile, watching as the moth flutters his wings to move from Tubbo's hand to hers.

Nobody seems to notice the unimpressed look that Quackity shoots towards the night sky, but Tubbo's eyes snap towards him the instant he lets out a deep sigh.

"I guess so. Anyhow. I'm going to pass out on my bed, I'll see you tomorrow morning?" The human asks, tone a sweet mixture of enthusiastic, hopeful and exhausted as he moves away from the wall - his guitar in one hand and the untouched mug of ale in the other. 

Tubbo nods enthusiastically, grinning widely at him; next to him, Niki smiles kindly, while Fundy goes for a much more noncommittal nod of his head.

Quackity's eyes linger on the three of them for just a moment more, as if trying to figure something out, then he nods to himself and raises the mug to mimic a toast in their honour, opening the door to the inside of the tavern.

"Don't keep me waiting!"

[thecoleopterawithana]

Songwriting is like psychiatry

[Dear @eppysboys, your wish is my command.]

-

There are bound to be thickheads who will wonder why some of it doesn't make sense, and others who will search for hidden meanings.

'What's a Brummer?'

‘There's more to "dubb owld boot" than meets the eye.'

None of it has to make sense and if it seems funny then that's enough.

— Paul McCartney, in the Introduction to John Lennon's In His Own Write (1964).

-

When we had a party in the States to celebrate having finished the album, someone came up to us and said 'Hello, Venus. Hello, Mars.' I thought, 'Oh. no.'' When I write songs, I'm not necessarily talking about me, although psychoanalysts would say "Yes, you are, mate." But as far as I'm concerned, I'm not.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed for the promotion of Venus and Mars (1975). In Paul Gambaccini's Paul McCartney: In His Own Words (1976).

-

I don’t examine myself that way. I just am. I just go through it. I just wake in the morning and go to bed at night and whatever happens during the day just happens. I don’t really know how I am.

— Paul McCartney, in Music Express: ‘Paul McCartney Wings It Alone’ (April/May 1982).

-

I’m not a great reader into moods: I don’t naturally say that if I wrote a sad song then I was sad that day, or if I wrote a happy song I was happy. I compose songs like playwrights write a play. They don’t have to know everyone in the play, they don’t have to know anyone in the play, it’s just a product of their imagination.

— Paul McCartney, speaking of ‘Somedays’, interviewed for Club Sandwich n°82 (Summer of 1997).

-

“There are a lot of mindsets when you’re writing a song – and one of them is commercial,” he admits. “It’s like any job, where if you do a certain thing you’ll progress in that job. In songwriting it’s an unspoken thing, but I recognise it. I remember hearing somewhere that people like sad songs, so I thought, ‘OK, I’ll write a sad song.’ I knew what I was getting into…” So, in a way, you were acting when you wrote [Yesterday]? “Yes. I wrote from the point of view of someone who was sad. But when you’re taking on a part, it’s usually you you’re writing about. Your psychiatrist would say it’s you.” Later, someone suggested that lyrics such as, “Why she had to go, I don’t know” were about McCartney’s mother who’d died when he was 14. “I certainly felt that way when she died. So when I sing Yesterday now, it does make me think about my mum. It’s more personal than I realised it was.” You sense that the older he gets, perhaps the more McCartney is prone to analysing his gift.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Mark Blake for Q: Songs in the key of Paul (May 2015).

-

This series – I just woke up one morning and I had a germ of an idea, which is all I want really. I don’t want too formed an idea, it’s just not who I am. [...] I woke up with this thing and I thought it would be just a black canvas and these three-fingered scratches, like someone in prison and they’re either trying to get out or they’re trying to mark the dates. [...] But then a shape emerged with this blue, and I still don’t know what it is. It looks vaguely phallic, or somebody’s ass bending away from you. But that’s what started to fascinate me. It’s probably an accident, but also what I like about that is the inner content, that I have no idea what my dreams are about. I’ve no idea, yet they’re every bit as real as sitting here with you. But my interior world, I think it’s not a bad idea to try and tap it.

My view is that these things are there whether you want them or not, in your interior. You don’t call up dreams, they happen, often the exact opposite of what you want. You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, “Shit, am I gay?” I like that you don’t have control over it. But there is some control – it is you dreaming, it is your mind it’s all happening in. In a way my equation would be that my computer is fully loaded by now. Maybe in younger people there’s a little bit of loading to go, but mine’s loaded pretty much, so what I try and do is allow it to print out unbeknown to me. And I’m interested to hear what it’s got in there.

I think we must be interested as musicians as often our music arrives that way. I dreamed the song Yesterday. It was just in a dream, I woke up one morning and had a melody in my head. So I have to believe in that.

— Paul McCartney, in “Luigi’s Alcove” by Karen Wright, for Modern Painters (August 2000).

-

I think a lot of these songs like 'Tell Me Why’ may have been based in real experiences or affairs John was having or arguments with Cynthia or whatever, but it never occurred to us until later to put that slant on it all.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Mile’s Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now (1997).

-

I was standing at the door and he was in bed, and we were talking about the lyrics of 'I Am the Walrus’, and I remember feeling he was a little frail at that time, maybe not going through one of the best periods in life, probably breaking up with his wife. He was going through a very fragile period. You’ve only got to look at his lyrics - 'sitting on a cornflake waiting for the van to come’. They were very disturbed lyrics. 

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

-

I remember giggling with John as we wrote the lines ‘What do you see when you turn out the light? I can’t tell you but I know it’s mine.’ It could have been him playing with his willie under the covers, or it could have been taken on a deeper level; this was what it meant but it was a nice way to say it, a very non-specific way to say it. I always liked that. 

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

-

"Sex is something I prefer to do, rather than sing about. Hi Hi Hi was from a period when everybody was getting stoned and having sex… I suppose singing about sex is not really in my genre. [...] It’s the same with trying to write angry songs,” he continues. “I can’t do it.” Really? “Yes. I wrote a song called Angry. Recorded it here with Phil Collins and Pete Townshend. At the time I thought, ‘Wow, we’ve really slammed this…’ I can be angry but I can’t find a natural way to put it into a song. It’s the same with sex."

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Mark Blake for Q: Songs in the key of Paul. (May, 2015)

-

McCartney has written some of the world’s most famous love songs, but has he ever worried about revealing too much of himself? “Yes, but you’ve got to get over that feeling quickly, because that’s the game.”

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Mark Blake for Q: Songs in the key of Paul (May 2015).

-

It’s funny because just in real life, I find that a challenge. I like to sort of, not give too much away. Like you said, I’m quite private. Why should people, know my innermost thoughts? That’s for me, their innermost. But in a song, that’s where you can do it. That’s the place to put them. You can start to reveal truths and feelings. You know, like in ‘Here Today’ where I’m saying to John “I love you”. I couldn’t have said that, really, to him. But you find, I think, that you can put these emotions and these deeper truths – and sometimes awkward truths; I was scared to say “I love you”. So that’s one of the things that I like about songs.

— Paul McCartney, on the challenge of giving too much of himself away when writing meaningful and truthful songs. Asked by Simon Pegg and interviewed by John Wilson for BBC 4’s Mastertapes (24 May 2016).

-

Songwriting is like psychiatry; you sit down and dredge up something that’s inside, bring it out front. And I just had to be real and say, John, I love you. I think being able to say things like that in songs can keep you sane.

— Paul McCartney, interview with Robert Palmer for the New York Times (25 April 1982).

-

[McCartney (1970)] was kind of… therapy through hell.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed for the Q magazine (2007).

-

GILBERT: Do you find it easier to write good records in a darker period of your life than in happier periods? You’ve lived through more than a few bad episodes…

PAUL: That’s a good question, I’m not sure. I think the answer is neither and both. I think it’s good when you’re in a dark period, the good is [the song’s] your psychiatrist, it’s your therapy, and you know we have many tales – anyone who writes has. Going away when you’re really upset about something and putting it in your song – you come out of that cupboard, toilet or basement and go, “I really feel better.” You’ve actually exorcised the demon. So it is one of the great joys of songwriting.

GILBERT: What would be an example of a song you wrote in a very angry or dark mood?

PAUL: I think the words of ‘Yesterday’, when I see them now I think there were quite a few of my songs like that, you know, bad moods made better. More recently ‘Calico Skies’ [evoking memories of Linda]; ‘Little Willow’ [for Maureen Starkey] was one I wrote about a friend when she was dying and, in fact, she did die, so those kind of things can help. With ‘Yesterday’, singing it now, I think without realising it I was singing about my mum who died five or six years previously, or whatever the timing was. Because I think now, “Why she had to go, I don’t know, she wouldn’t say, I said something wrong…” I think the psychiatrist would have a field day with that one. (Sings) “Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away / Now it looks as though they’re here to say” – there’s a lot of those songs, that’s just three where I can remember going into a hiding place with a guitar, purposely to exorcise your demons. It’s like writing your dream out or something, and it’s a physical effect where you come back out and you’ve created that magic again, pulling the rabbit out of the hat. “Where did that come from? Wahey!” It’s a great feeling. 

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Pat Gilbert for MOJO: Don’t look back in anger. (November, 2013)

-

Q: Do you have a song that you put on if you’re ever having a hard time or a bad day, and it instantly makes you feel better? 

PAUL: There’s a track [’I Don’t Know’] on Egypt Station that came out of a hard time I think would fit the bill now! […] it’s funny what inspires you to write songs. For instance, John started writing ‘Help!’during a crisis at that time in his life, which is often a good motivator ‘cause there’s a therapy aspect to writing songs sometimes - but not all songs! It’s almost as if you’re telling your guitar your troubles and a lot of composure can be found through that. So you sort of say what you might say to a therapist, but you put it into a song and you might feel better afterwards. You don’t have to be going through terrible times, just something that’s frustrating.

— Paul McCartney, in You Gave Me The Answer (28 March 2019)

-

Q: ‘I Don’t Know’ opens with the lyric, “Crows at my window, dogs at my door, I don’t think I can take it anymore.” This imagery does seem pretty bleak for a comeback. 

PAUL: Well, I was in a bleak mood. It’s a well-known fact, you talk to a lot of songwriters, that they write good songs from being in a bad mood. It can often be a really good motivating factor, because you don’t care. You can’t just go out to your friends or your relatives, and just start going, 'I’ve got crows on my window.’ You don’t necessarily want to just go and complain about everything, but you can complain to your piano, in this case, or your guitar… It’s a great therapy. 

Q: Doubt and regret [hardly] seem to be things that people associate with you.

PAUL: It’s funny, isn’t it? People think that about me, that well, when you reach my position… you end up with no problems at all. But that’s unrealistic, because you’re in life. And if like me you’ve got a big family, there’s gonna be some sort of problem, even if it’s just someone’s ill. So realistically speaking, you have to think that it’s very likely that most people you know can have problems. Even President Obama. Even John Lennon. Even Taylor Swift. We’ve all got problems, and that’s what makes us all so human.

— Paul McCartney, interview for BBC 6 (20 June 2018).

-

The idea is that what I’ll leave behind me will be music, and I may not be able to tell you everything I feel, but you’ll be able to feel it when you listen to my music. I won’t have the time or the articulation to be able to say it all, but if you enjoy composing you say it through the notes.

— Paul McCartney, regarding Ecce Cor Meum, which premiered in 2001.

-

I have to leave  And when I'm gone  I'll leave my message  In my song

-

Tangents

The Walrus | A case study for John’s struggles with meaning in song

The Surrealist | Meaning and Magritte

I Can’t Tell You How I Feel | Expressing emotions and feelings [statements in songs]

This One | A case study for Paul’s struggles with expressing feelings

I’m Scared To Say I Love You | Paul’s struggle with saying ‘I love you’

[ussjellyfish]

please have snow and mistletoe | gen | Skimmons, Philinda | Agents of SHIELD

written for @agentsofchallenges​ as a pinch hit for @maybebrilliant​!!

Merry Christmas, lovely! I hope you enjoy this. We’ve had some awful weather and that just seemed to work. 

read on ao3

Jemma and Daisy were supposed to go see her parents for Christmas but it's snowing and the flights are cancelled the hotels are full and they're in the worst airport Jemma's ever seen.

So May's going to come get them.

=======

"The flight's canceled," Jemma reports, flopping down on the bench, totally defeated. "So is everything else crossing the Atlantic Ocean that's not a boat, and I think they're turning those back too."

Daisy pats her shoulder and finishes the last of her cold coffee. "Guess we should call your parents."

"They'll be so disappointed," Jemma says, taking a breath. She probably wouldn't be near tears if it wasn't the middle of the night in potentially the worst airport on the eastern seaboard. Newark was crowded, so many flights had been delayed or cancelled that she and Daisy had barely gotten a bench after they'd barely gotten through customs. They'd already queued for hours, had terrible food, and the bathrooms were overcrowded and everyone was annoyed. Everyone was so annoyed that the air seemed to crack with it.

"Hey," Daisy said, smiling. "They'll understand. We can get a hotel or go back to base and we'll try again."

"Before the world ends or we get attacked by killer robots."

Daisy laughs and leans back. "We're good at that though, so it'll have to be another horrible thing."

"Like aliens." Jemma tries to smile. "Or weeping angels."

"Why are the angels sad?"

"Oh they're not actually weeping they're just covering their faces because they're evil and they're going to get you as soon as you stop looking."

Daisy grins. "Wait, what?"

"It's complicated, but the gist of it is that the angels sneak up on you when you're not looking at them."

"And they're evil."

"So evil."

"So let's not fight them." Daisy pulls her feet up and wraps her arms around her knees. "What do we do if there's no flight?"

"We rent a car-"

"Oh no, it's like The Day After Tomorrow death blizzard out there, we're not driving, you get annoyed with the traffic around the Playground."

"I'm only pointing out that roundabouts would be much more efficient."

"Uh huh." Daisy takes another sip of her coffee and frowns. It must be gone. Daisy looks for the bin, but of course there's no bin, this airport is the 8th circle of hell.

"We could get a hotel, hang on," Daisy opens up her laptop, touches something, does something else and even in hell, Daisy has wifi because she's Daisy. She's probably hacking NASA or something.

"Dammit," Daisy mutters after a few minutes.

"Let me guess, they're all booked."

"Everything. So many people are stuck here that I can't find a hotel anywhere within a hundred miles."

"And we'd have to get the hundred miles."

"Yeah." Daisy rubs her eyes. "We could just sleep here."

"In an airport?"

Daisy shrugs. "It's not the worst. It's safe, but the stupid lights are on all night and it's really not very comfortable."

Jemma sighs, buries her head in Daisy's shoulder and groans. "Spending the night in the airport on Christmast?"

"With a couple thousand of our stranded new friends," Daisy mutters. "Better call May and tell her we're not leaving the country."

It's somehow one of the shortest and most touching conversations of her life.

"May's coming to get us."

"What?" Daisy asks, eyes wide. "It's like...actual hell out there."

"She's driving, she said two hours, maybe three, but she'll be here before dinner."

Daisy shakes her head. "Okay."

"That's really nice of her."

"She is really nice."

"I know, I just--" Jemma stops, because she really can't complain about not getting to see her parents for Christmas because she's seen them every other Christmas of her life and she has parents, and a wonderful girlfriend and May who's coming to get them through the worst blizzard of the last sixty years.

She still wants to be home. She's earned it. It's been such a long year. She sniffs, and shakes herself out of it.

"What movies do you have on your laptop?"

Daisy wraps an arm around her and they settle in as best they can. May will be here.

Oddly enough, two hours later it's Coulson who comes in to get them. He's all wrapped out, parka and hate and scarf and a big smile for both of them.

"Come on, May's just outside." He hugs them, Daisy first, then Jemma, and it's so terrible outside that he somehow smells like snow and cold.

"Aren't you--?" Daisy asks and Coulson just smiles.

"I didn't want to leave May alone in the base for Christmas."

"She said she doesn't celebrate Christmas."

"We like not celebrating together," Coulson says, but there's something that makes him smile about that. "Give me your luggage."

"It's on the plane already, or not unloaded, or--" Jemma stumbles over the words, yawning, and Daisy finishes.

"I think they're going to have to drop it off with us."

"That bad huh?"

"It's Newark," Daisy grumbles, folding her arms. "I wanted to just let May fly us."

"We can't possibly ask May to fly us to my parents house."

"She'd love too," Coulson reminds them both, leading them towards the frozen hellscape of outside. They have to stop talking as they reach the doors because the wind screams around them and whips ice and snow like a sandstorm.

Hell is frozen, and all the devils are here. They hurry into the (once) black SHIELD SUV that's covered in so much ice and snow that's it's almost grey-white.

Daisy doesn't even have a hat because it was nice when they left and they tumble into the backseat, rubbing their fingers together and trying to catch their breath.

May turns around, looking at them both with a very gentle smile. "There's food in the backpack, hot chocolate in the thermos and blankets. Phil, where did you put their hats and mittens?"

"They're in the cloth bag. You didn't really take the hard core winter gear."

"Yeah, it was like 40 degrees when we left the base." Daisy buckles up and grabs the backpack. "I'm starving."

"We thought so, the food here is terrible."

"The worst," May agrees, checking that they're in before she pulls out from the curb. Another car slides past them, like actually slides and Jemma grabs Daisy's hand.

Daisy pats her knee with a smile and mouths "It's May."

It's not that Jemma doesn't have every confidence in May, she does. May is a legend at everything she does, it's just that the weather outside is actually legendarily bad. They crawl along on the freeway, surrounded by giant trucks that can't stay on the road and Jemma counts fourteen cars in the ditch before they're even out of New Jersey.

Daisy leans over, close enough that Jemma can smell the hot chocolate on her lips. "Stop panicking."

"Did you not see the cars in the ditch? The overturned lorry trucks? The complete lack of plows and gritters?"

"What's a gritter?"

"Those big lorries that throw grit on the roadway."

"Grit?" Daisy teases, eyebrows high.

"Stop making fun of me, you know what I mean."

"I do, I just like making fun of you."

Jemma rolls her eyes and tries to forget about the chance of them spinning into a ditch and spending the night sleeping in the SUV. Does SHIELD have any anti-ice and snow technology? Is there some kind of SAT NAV that May can follow out of the storm.

"Stop panicking," Daisy whispers again.

"How are you not?" Jemma snaps back in a whisper. "That car almost hit us."

"Look." Daisy points carefully in the dim light. It takes Jemma far too long to figure out what she's looking at.

Coulson's hand is on May's knee. It's innocent enough, maybe he's just- but it's right there and it looks like it's been there a long time.

"That's not all," Daisy whispers, smiling at the secret she's discovered. "Wait a minute."

Jemma curls up with Daisy and the blankets in the backseat and watches as Couls holds on May's tea so she doesn't have to look away from the road. They talk in low tones, and Jemma and Daisy can't hear them over the sound of ice thudding against the roof and the windows, but sometimes one of them will laugh.

May, laughs, while driving through the worst mess Jemma's ever seen. Time crawls, Daisy falls asleep for a while, then Jemma, but when she wakes up again, they're still driving, and Coulson's hand is on the back of May's neck.

She couldn't really tell what he's doing unless May's getting some kind of stress headache, and Coulson's hand is really hidden in her hair, except the snow's softer now and she can hear them talking.

Still not quite the words, but there's something almost flirty in the way Coulson won't stop looking at May.

Of course, they have a connection, years of history. They're really good friends.

Except friends don't really spend lonely holidays together alone at a secret base.

Jemma falls asleep wondering what they're saying, because May's laughing again and even in the middle of the darkest, most miserable, cold and wet Christmas Eve she's ever had, there's something nice about being curled up with Daisy just listening.

====

"We're home," Coulson says, shaking her a little. "Nice and safe and warm in the garage."

Jemma slowly blinks herself awake, stretching as she crawls out of the car. Daisy stands by the other door, still half asleep. They both yawn and check their phones. It's well after two in the morning.

"Happy Christmas, mum and dad," Jemma whispers to her phone and sends them a text. Maybe she'll see them by New Year.

Daisy circles the back of the SUV, whistling at the snow. "I didn't know the roads could be that bad."

"May did a great job."

Hugging Jemma sleepily, Daisy nods. "Course she did, she's Agent May."

Still arm in arm, they walk towards the front of the SUV to thank Coulson and May for coming to get them, but they stop.

They're kissing.

Not just, light, gentle, Happy Christmas, kissing, but wrapped around each other as if this kiss is the first one of the rest of their lives. There should be music with this kiss.

Daisy stops, mouth open.

Jemma should pull herself together but she doesn't. She stares too, because they keep going until both of them are gasping for breath.

"Ummm."

"Merry Christmas," Coulson says, blushing a little.

"Mistletoe," May says, pointing up at the high ceiling of the garage.

There's nothing up there. Jemma looks and Daisy looks and they both nod and May grabs Coulson's hand and they walk into the base together, Coulson's arm around her shoulders.

Daisy stares and stares and then her expression softens, warms. "They--"

Jemma kisses her, stopping her speculation. When they part, Daisy looks at her, confused.

"Mistletoe," Jemma teases and Daisy rolls her eyes.

"You know there's nothing up there."

"Maybe that's the point."

Daisy strokes her hair, then smiles. "Sorry. you're stuck here."

"I'm not," Jemma says, and now, finally, wrapped in Daisy's arms, she might mean it.

[readingbatfamficsat3am]

Universe Jumping

Rose stood outside the building. The black pant suit she wore was uncomfortable over her body armor and hidden weapons - knives, shuriken, her twin blades and even a small hand gun strapped to the inside of her thigh. Rachel was waiting on a rooftop nearby, they had agreed that her magic wasn’t necessary for this mission. It was a simple infiltrate and rescue type thing and S.H.I.E.L.D, for all their bedazzle and secrecy, weren’t anything Rose couldn’t deal with by herself. 

Rachel had stolen a security card for her the previous day, while Rose had been in the abandoned building across the street, trying to figure out the layout of the S.H.I.E.L.D base. Rachel was lucky that her magic allowed her to shape shift, it would have been very difficult to go unnoticed with her dark purple hair, grey skin and red headstone that glowed every once in a while. She had taken the liberty of turning Rose’s silver hair brown and temporarily healing her eye, which was very much appreciated. 

Rose thought back to the conversation she’d had with the demon not ten minutes ago and smiled softly to herself. 

“Be careful in there.” Rachel had said, “I know you are very much capable of defending yourself but I worry sometimes. Just go in, get Jason, try to avoid people like Romanoff the best you can and I’ll see you out here in half an hour.” 

Rose remembered smiling then too, “I love that you worry about me, even though it’s rather unnecessary. It’s cute,” she had tapped Rachel’s nose and leaned in to give her a kiss, “I swear on Gar’s love for stupid video games that I will get in and out with minimal trouble but I can’t promise that I won’t accidentally kill someone on the way.” 

Rachel had shrugged and grinned, “Good enough for me, now go and rescue that idiot before he makes an even bigger problem than jumping across multiverses. Does he know how exhausting it is to open portals across multiverses, if he’s not dead already I’ll probably kill him myself.” 

“I better go. I’ll let you know if I run into any trouble and need some help.” She had said, though she highly doubted that even if she did run into Romanoff she would have a problem.   

Now, Rose glanced once up at Rachel before walking down the busy shop street in her impractical yet doable 3 inch heels towards the S.H.I.E.L.D building that despite appearing to be just another corporate company, it screamed shady government division to Rose. It just had that look about it.

Without her eye-patch -- which she strangely missed -- people barely gave her a second glance. Most of the agents around her were also in black suits, some even had shades which in her opinion was way too on the nose. Trust Jason to end up in a place like this. 

She hadn’t seen him in over five years, not since before he died. Rose had broken up with him about two months before his death, and had been devastated to hear what had happened to him. Now she had heard that he had come back to life eight months later and had told no one, but reappeared five years later with a vengeance and a smoking addiction that were both likely to kill him. 

He’d even developed a habit for murder, even worse than Rose’s -- which was hard to do if she was being honest. 

She reached the check-in point at the end of the room and gave the woman sitting behind the desk an easy smile. Rose’s father had drilled that smile into her, make people feel at ease, make them trust you with a few nice words and stab them through the back afterwards. 

The woman took the security card from her and scanned it through the system -- Samantha Marshall, 24 years old, Clearance Level 5, whatever that meant. Rose was going to break into anything, as long as she got what she wanted.  There were no problems and Rose quickly took the card back before moving through the turnstile and heading towards the elevator. 

“Any problems?” Rachel asked, with what seemed like boredom laced through her tone. Despite her worry earlier on she trusted Rose to be able to take care of herself on missions like these. 

 She tapped at the earpiece before replying, “Nope, for top secret security logistics division it’s surprisingly lax on security. We should probably stay off comms though, it might look suspicious if I look like I'm talking to myself. Thanks for checking in.” 

Rachel gave her a quick, “No problem” before turning off the comms. Just then, the elevator opened and three agents stepped out and Rose stepped in. She didn’t actually know where in the building Jason was, she was actually planning on torturing the information out of someone in the back of a supply closet. It wasn’t one of her greatest plans but it was far from being one of her worst. At least if anything went wrong, there was a demon sorceress capable of destroying the universe outside. 

Just as the doors were about to close, another woman stepped inside. They gave each other a quick nod before they both turned to face the closed doors. Rose recognised the woman as Melinda May from her brief hacking trip through S.H.I.E.L.D’s systems. May was almost as skilled as Natasha Romanoff and had developed a nickname in The Cavalry. She smiled to herself, and decided to have a little fun and take advantage of being in a universe where no one had ever heard of her. 

“I hear they call you The Cavalry around here.”  She got barely a nod in response, but she could tell by May’s subtle change in body language that Rose was irritating her. “I’d say i’m a fan of your work but I didn’t know you existed until two days ago. Besides there are cooler nicknames to have.” 

She could hear May’s slight intake of breath and almost grinned. Rose liked fucking with people like May, they had a tough exterior that’s usually enough to get people running in fear, but had certain topics or issues that caused that exterior to crack when poked at. 

“Do you have any suggestions for a ‘cooler’ nickname then?” May’s tone was flawless, no trace of any annoyance or irritation to be found. 

“A few, none that you’d be interested in.” Rose turned to grin at her. Finally the doors opened allowing Rose to step onto the floor and to say without turning back, “It was nice meeting you May.” 

As she made her way through the building she glanced at the various agents passing by her in the halls, trying to find one likely to give her the information she needed. Rose found them in Jonathan Clarke. Dabbing a bit of chloroform onto a handkerchief she pulled her pocket, she waited in a corner for Mr Clarke to walk by. She didn’t have to wait long, he only managed to struggle for a few seconds before the knock out drug took affect. The hardest part of the whole thing was dragging him into a nearby closet without making a mess. 

“Hey, Rae. I was wondering if you could let up on the magic? I was hoping to do the rest of this as myself.” 

She didn’t get a reply but a quick glance at her shoulder saw that her hair had returned to its silver and Rose assumed that her eye-patch had returned. She ripped off the pant suit, her ‘Ravager’ outfit underneath. The guy was starting to wake up so she pulled out a few of her knives and got to work. 

*********

He lasted longer than she’d expected but not long enough that it was difficult -- or fun. Rose left him in supply closet to bleed out but left the door open so that if he was lucky someone found him before he died. She ignored the fact that there were security cameras at every turn. No one here could stop her unless they had a rocket launcher on hand.

There was already blood on her face when the first agent tried to take her down. There was some in her hair by the time she was finished with him. Five more came running at her. A flick of Rose’s wrist brought three of them down with knives in their chests. Whipping out a blade she blocked a bullet to her left and slit a throat on her right before stabbing the agent who had dared to try shoot her. 

 Alarms blared around her and lights flared, illuminating the rooms and halls in a red hue. It seemed fitting for the state of affairs Rose was currently dealing with. She reached the stairwell and began climbing. The agent had told her Jason was on the 7th floor so Rose cut her way through S.H.I.E.L.D agents until she reached that floor. 

There was a small army of agents waiting when she finally opened the door to the 7th floor. Rose just managed to duck behind a desk before they opened fire. She took a deep breath. She really hated doing this, even though the bullets wouldn’t kill her they still hurt like a bitch. She grit her teeth and jumped back out into the fray. Two bullets pierced her shoulder and Rose let out one quiet cry of pain before whipping out five shuriken, each one finding their targets in five agents. Her twin blades cut through the remaining agents easily. Her clothes, hair and armor was soaked with blood, some of it was her own. 

Two more agents shot at her from behind and her back arched in pain before she turned to face them and got three more bullets in the chest. Rose let out a cry of anger and ran at them. Sliding onto the floor, Rose kicked at Agent 1’s leg, hard enough to break bone. In the same moment, she swept Agent 2 off their feet and brought a sword straight through his chest until it hit the floor boards underneath. 

She quickly jumped to her feet, glanced around at the blood covered room and grinned. Agent 2 let out a scream when she pulled her sword from his chest and Agent 1 -- who was the agent with the best chance of living as he only had a broken leg -- practically pissed his pants when she licked one of her knives clean. 

Five minutes later -- god this building was huge -- she was striding down the final hallway towards her friend. Rose kicked in the door, and found Jason sitting in a chair across from Phil Coulson, Clint Barton and Natasha fucking Romanoff. He was in a complete state of calm, at least until she came charging through the door, then he had turned pale. 

Romanoff had pulled out a gun and was about to pull the trigger when Jason stood up, “Stop, stop! She’s a friend. Besides, bullets would do nothing.”  The assassin turned S.H.I.E.L.D agent gave both of them a strange look before standing down. Coulson and Barton had stood up by then, but Rose didn’t care. She only saw Jason. 

“Is it really you?” She whispered, tears in her eyes. Jason only nodded. Then he pulled her into a hug, ignoring her blood stained attire. Rose allowed herself one moment to appreciate that he was here before she pulled back and punched him across the face. She was pretty sure she heard a crack. Romanoff had her gun up again and Barton leaped across the desk to tackle her. Rose quickly put him in a headlock and faced Romanoff to tell her to put the gun down when Jason stood up again and stood between them. 

“Rose, Natasha stop please.” 

Rose growled at him before releasing Barton. “You’re such a piece of shit Jason. We mourned for you. Dick had a mental fucking breakdown. And you were alive the last five years?” She was yelling now, poking at his chest, getting blood all over his $5000 suit. “I get the whole revenge crusade. Trust me I get it but the Titans were your family. I was your family in a way and you not only died, but you came back to life and decided not to tell anyone for five motherfucking years. Then when we finally realize it’s you, you decide to start universe jumping?”  Coulson, Barton and Romanoff all looked utterly confused by Rose’s speech but said nothing. “Oh, by the way there are about fifty agents outside dying. You might want to take care of that.” 

Jason looked horrified at that, “You killed the agents outside?”  She rolled her eyes, “It’s not any worse than anything you’ve ever done, so cut the hypocritical bullshit. Besides I thought you were being held hostage.” 

Coulson pulled out his phone and Rose assumed he was getting medics to the agents outside but he didn’t leave the room. Instead he turned to Jason, “Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on.” 

Jason let out a sigh, “Coulson, Clint, Natasha meet Rose. She’s an...old friend.” 

 Rose scoffed, “Old friend doesn’t even begin to cover it.” She turned to face them. “Jason and I are from another universe, another multiverse, where I am the daughter of one of the world’s most dangerous assassins and Jason is the adopted son of Batman, the one who died five years ago but came back to life God knows how and became a crime lord and a serial killer. No judgement on the serial killer thing, I’m not much better.” 

 No one said anything so Rose continued on, turning back to Jason, “By the way Rachel is waiting outside and preparing to skin you alive. Do you have any idea how much it drains her to open portals across multiverses?” 

Jason had the sense to look guilty, “Shit, on a scale of 1-10 how mad is she? Like will she do that creepy thing with her eyes or will she summon a demon monster to torture me.” 

Barton interrupted Rose before she got a chance to answer, “What the fuck is going on? Coulson why haven’t we taken her into custody? She just killed thirty people and…” 

“Shit. Thirty died. I am so sorry about that,” Rose interrupted. “Just give me a sec and I’ll fix all this.”  Natasha -- who haden’t spoken up until then -- said, “How are you going to fix the murders of thirty people?” 

Rose ignored her and turned her comms back on, “Hey babe.” Jason looked at her then, she waved him off. “Yeah im fine. Guess what, Jason actually isn’t being held hostage and I just killed thirty of his friends so I was wondering of you could do some of your wiggly woos with your fingers?”  She didn’t get a reply but a large purple circle suddenly appeared at the wall and Rachel stepped through it, still in her casual wear of a crop top with jeans and sunglasses. 

Romanoff must have an itchy trigger finger because the second Rachel stepped into the room shots were fired, which she stopped with a lazy hand raised. Rose however pulled out her sword and glared at the assassin, “Don’t you dare shoot at my girlfriend again.” 

Rachel put a hand on her shoulder, whispering that she was fine. Jason was trying not to stare them. He was clearly startled at their whole relationship and he was probably scared of getting flayed by Rachel in the middle of Phil Coulson’s office