#p0psy storytime

[daandyli0n]

here we go!! finally!!

chapter two: and up the dandelions spring

[daandyli0n]

i’m not like that (it won’t be okay)

title is from “Self Care” by penelope scott

summary: in the aftermath of tommy’s “death” in exile, tubbo practically shuts himself away from the world, unable to handle the guilt and attempting to cope by burying it down. so he won’t have to confront it. so he won’t have to think of the fact that half of his family is dead, and that wilbur and tommy both went out in similar ways. so he won’t have to think about how he Hates himself for all of this (that it was his fault).of course, some people don’t think that this is a very healthy approach to dealing with grief, so they have made the decision to try and help tubbo out (whether they are successful, or if tubbo really wants their help, is a tad bit irrelevant here).

(something to note: tubbo didn’t exile tommy in this au (that was fundy), but he Did visit tommy twice in this au, but tubbo blames himself because he feels like he could’ve done more. add onto the fact that wilbur is Also his adopted brother, and that he had Also committed suicide just about a month prior…)

(warnings: referenced suicides, character not doing too hot mental health-wise, self-blame (in the fact that the character in question blames themself for someone else’s suicide), self-hatred (so much self-hatred), violent thoughts (tubbo very vaguely implies that he wants to murder dream. Brutally), implied/referenced child abuse (cause. Exile))

@fangirleando90 here ya go!!

hope y’all enjoy this!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been at least four days since The Discovery in Logstedshire, and Tubbo still hadn’t left his house, nor had he really talked to anyone.

Well, that wasn’t fully accurate. People had tried to talk to him, to offer their deepest condolences. But they were simply given a short glance by Tubbo, who had just looked up from some redstone or science-y thing he was doing to just give a short “Thanks” and then just hunching back over his work until whoever had come in left.

The most talking Tubbo had done to anyone in days had been when Quackity had come to Tubbo’s house looking for some healing potions, only to have Tubbo lie them down on a table and perform some form of first aid on them using bandages and potions (must’ve been some knowledge from the L’manberg War), all while muttering “I told you guys this was a stupid idea” and “I can only really fix the eye, so if you want help with the teeth, you’ll have to go to Ponk’s office.” As Quackity left, they gave Tubbo their thanks for the help. Tubbo simply shrugged. “No problem man. Don’t mention it.”

And that was it. Not many other words from Tubbo since.

Well, Fundy was about to change that one.

He gave a soft knock on Tubbo’s door. “Tubs? You in there?”

A groan could be heard. “Where else would I be, Fundy?”

Fundy opened up the door. Tubbo was sitting at a desk, messing around with what Fundy could assume would be a redstone project of some kind. Tubbo had this almost blank look in his eyes. He didn’t look…angry or upset in any way, but…

Fundy shot Tubbo a concerned look. “Well, hopefully in your therapy appointment. It should’ve been an hour and a half ago, Tubbo.”

He didn’t even look up. “Tell Big Q that I’m fine. I’m not really in the mood to talk right now anyways.”

“Tubbo, you and I both know you’re not okay. It’s why you’re even in therapy to begin with. And right now, you need to talk to Quackity more than ever-”

Tubbo finally looked up. He looked annoyed. “I told you, Fundy. I’m fine.”

Fundy sighed. “Tubbo, please. Just a check-in. That’s all I ask.”

Tubbo just rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have work to do, President Soot?”

Fundy flinched back at that, and then stood there for a few moments more. He finally took a deep breath, and looked at Tubbo one last time. “I’m here if you ever need to talk. I might be busy a lot of the time, but I’ll still be there, okay?”

With that, Fundy turned around and closed the door behind him.

Tubbo sat there at his desk, staring at the wood on top.

‘Nice going,’ a voice in the back of his brain chastised. ‘you’re pushing people away again.’

‘I just don’t wanna talk to people right now, you know this.’ he responded.

‘So when will you be ready? How long will that take? Tomorrow? A year?’

‘Now you’re just being an a**hole.’

‘I’m just speaking facts. Perhaps by the time you’re “Finally Ready” everyone will be sick of waiting for you.’

He didn’t attempt to shoot back at the voice for that one. It was right on that one.

‘This is what I meant about him, you know. You weren’t there enough for him, and now he’s gone.’

‘Shut up.’

‘It’s your fault, you know. That neither of them are here anymore.’

Tubbo shook his head to snap himself out of it, and continued on with his project, attempting to act as though nothing had happened. 

This was why he didn’t like people trying to talk to him. It distracted him from his work.

Distractions mean getting lost in thought. Getting lost in thought means…

Tubbo doesn’t like getting lost in thought these days.

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

“Quackity, I still can’t get him to come out of his house! I-”

This had been going on for about five minutes now. Fundy, a pacing bundle of nerves, was trying to voice his desperate concerns to Quackity.

Apparently, Tubbo missing his therapy appointment wasn’t an accident. He had meant to do that.

“Fundy.” They interjected.

Fundy stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Quackity.

They took a deep breath, and looked at Fundy. “Listen, I understand your concerns. A teenager completely shutting down and locking themself in their room, while refusing to talk to anyone, is worrying. But do keep in mind, Fundy, that Tubbo is still grieving, and pretty much-how do I word this-walked into the aftermath of his brother’s suicide just a few days ago.”

Fundy narrowed his eyes at them. “I know that, Quackity. But, and I don’t think that you really understand this, Tubbo has just been working on these little projects of his or has been lying on his bed doing nothing. Quackity, I haven’t seen him doing anything else whenever I check on him. I’m worried.”

Quackity held their hand up. “I know, I know. That’s why I have an idea.”

Fundy’s ear perked up. “And that idea is…?”

“I’m thinking of doing a very discreet therapy session tomorrow, disguised as a little check-in.” Quackity grinned at him. “If Tubbo won’t come to the therapy session himself, then we’ll simply bring the therapy to him.”

Fundy suddenly brightened up. “Wait, really?! You’re gonna check up on him tomorrow?”

They nodded. “Mhmm. I’m gonna try and get him to open up about anything that’s bothering him. Not saying it’ll work, but it’ll be an attempt at least.”

Fundy sighed a breath of relief. “Thanks man, I really appreciate this.”

Quackity shrugged. “Eh, it’s just my job, Mr. President.” They paused. “Speaking of which, Fundy? You really need to take a day off.”

Fundy frowned a bit. “Quackity, you know I can’t-”

“Uh uh, Doctor’s Orders, Fundy. I’m sure Niki can handle doing some more work for about a day, right? You really need a break, though.”

Fundy groaned a bit. “Whatever you say, Big Q.”

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

The next day Tubbo received a knock on his door.

“Come in.” he called out.

“Hey Tubbo!” Quackity called into the room.

He looked up, surprised. “Oh, hey Big Q.”

Quackity walked into the room, folding their wings to get into the door. They looked surprisingly cheerful. They were taking a look around Tubbo’s room, where various different science books and redstone handbooks, mechanical parts, and a lot of redstone dust was scattered around. Yeah, Tubbo will admit that his room was a little messy. But in his defense, he didn’t really have the energy to clean it.

Quackity didn’t seem to be deterred by the mess around them, given that they still stepped into the room. “So, how’s it been going Tubbo?”

Tubbo looked down at the floor for a brief moment, thinking hard on how to answer that question.

(what’s a short way to say “I’ve been mourning my brother and rightfully blaming myself for it because I’m the worst brother in existence while staying in my bedroom for the past five days and no amount of people trying to say “sorry for your loss” in twenty different ways is gonna stop the pain I feel”?)

Tubbo looks back up at them. “It’s going.”

Quackity just gave a small awkward nod and sat down on the bed next to the desk. “Have you been doing okay man?”

Tubbo shrugs. “About as okay as I can be. But yeah, I’m fine.”

They raised an eyebrow. “Tubbo…are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I feel fine, man.”

Quackity didn’t seem convinced, but they continued on, “Okay…Tubbo, I…we all know what happened a few days ago. I think we really need to talk about some things.”

Tubbo stopped working for a few seconds as the words sunk in. Suddenly he sighed out, “Oh, you have got to be f**king kidding me.”

“Tubbo please. We need to talk about this, for your own sake.”

Tubbo just silently turned around, and was glaring at them. “Go on then, let’s get this over with. Ask your questions, man.”

Quackity, despite knowing that they were most likely not going to get many honest answers out of Tubbo, decided to continue on anyway. “Well, first off, could you tell me about any thoughts that you’ve been having since…the Incident?”

Tubbo went quiet at that one (he didn’t really want to talk about his thoughts. About how he blamed himself, hated himself for what happened.

But he did have some thoughts that he wanted to ask about).

“Well…Big Q, can I ask you something?”

Quackity nodded. “Sure, go ahead.”

Tubbo looked back down at the floor. “Have you ever just…had thoughts about killing someone?”

Quackity looked lost in thought for a moment, brushing the left side of their face, their hand brushing against a particularly nasty scar. “Uh, well…yeah, Tubbo.”

Tubbo shook his head, looking up at them. “No not…like that. Like…”

“Have you ever thought about killing someone brutally? Not just that, but you want to kill someone because they just ripped your family apart?”

Quackity went quiet at that. Very quiet. This wasn’t at all what they were expecting to hear.

“They just completely ripped someone away from you, away from everyone really. And they don’t even seem sorry about it.”

Tubbo sat there, fiddling with his hands. “But, in the end, you decide to just get rid of those thoughts because that person could just…kill you if they wanted to. So you decide that it’s just not worth it.”

Tubbo sat there staring at Quackity. “Do you have thoughts like that?”

Quackity just sat there in total shock. Of all the answers they were expecting, that was not one of them.

Something told them that it still wasn’t the full truth though.

“Can’t say that I do, Tubbo.”

Tubbo simply put his head down. “Oh, okay. Next question, I guess.”

Quackity stared at him. “Tubbo, I’m not saying that having those thoughts are wrong, but I still think we really need to talk about-”

“Next question, Big Q.” Tubbo snapped.

Quackity’s wings fluffed up a bit, and they sighed. “Okay then…You visited Tommy at least twice during his Exile, right? What was he like during those visits?”

Tubbo continued to fiddle with his hands. “Well…the first one he was fine: we were just making some flower crowns like the good old days, y’know? Dream wasn’t even there!” Tubbo paused. “Well, I mean, Tommy seemed a little down, but he just said it was because the night before that Dream just…plopped him and Ghostbur down at Logstedshire and destroyed their stuff. Also said something about how Dream attacked him when he refused-”

“Wait, what?”

He shrugged again. “Not too sure either. Didn’t go into too much detail on that. We got done with making the crowns, I gave Tommy one I made from a bunch of poppies. You know, to match mine.” Tubbo points to the crown of yellow flowers on his head. “But the next time I visited him…”

Quackity frowned as Tubbo trailed off. “What happened during the second visit, Tubbo?”

Tubbo looked back up at him. “Oh! Well…when I got there, he looked…really f**ked up. Like, covered in bruises and cuts and s**t. But it wasn’t just…how he looked that was weird as f**k.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well…” he began fiddling with his fingers again. “First, when I got there, he was curled up in a ball sitting on the ground, and he was mumbling to himself. When I tried getting his attention, he just sorta jumped up and kept screaming s**t about how I was a “hallucination” and “not real.” He was really freaked out too. I don’t think I’ve heard Tommy that scared in years.”

Tubbo frowned, a sad look in his eyes. “After that, I didn’t really wanna stay around him ‘cause…well, I mean, he literally didn’t think I was real. I didn’t want him to keep freaking out, so I just left…”

A tear rolled down his cheek, and Tubbo looked to Quackity again. “I wish I hadn't left him, Big Q. I really wish I had just stayed there. That I didn’t abandon him.”

Quackity looked shocked at the last comment. “Tubbo, you didn’t-”

Tubbo was sniffling now. “Big Q? Can we just call it a day?”

“Tubbo-”

“Please?” Tubbo was barely holding the tears back at this point.

Quackity looked apprehensive, but eventually sighed. “Alright, Tubbo. If you’re sure. I’ll check up on you in a few days okay?”

Tubbo just nodded. And with that, Quackity left.

And Tubbo was alone again.

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

Three days later, there was a knock on his door again.

Tubbo huffed. “Big Q, I know you and Fundy are just trying to help, but I’m really not in the mood right now.”

A voice called back through the door, “Uh, it’s not Quackity this time.”

Tubbo turned to the door. “...Come in?”

The door opened, and a really tall hybrid was practically playing limbo with the doorframe.

Ranboo finally stood up straight upon entering the room. They were holding a little box. “Hey Tubbo.”

Tubbo smiled a little bit. “Ranboo? I wasn’t expecting you to show up here.”

They let out a little laugh. “Well, I actually wanted to check up on you. I haven’t seen you in a while.” They held out the little box to him. “Also, uh, I made you something.”

Tubbo looked at the box for a few minutes before cautiously taking the box and opening it. Inside were a bunch of cookies. They looked good, if slightly burnt.

“Well, I talked to Niki about baking, and I asked her how to make some cookies. I think I might’ve left them in the furnace too long, but I think they’re still edible.”

Tubbo’s smile brightened. “Aww, thanks man!” He took out a cookie and started nibbling on it.

Ranboo looked over to Tubbo’s desk, and he stared at the books and parts on the desk. “So…what are you doing?”

Tubbo beamed. “Oh, this stuff? Just a bit of mixing regular science with redstone, you know how it is.”

“Ah, I see.” (They really didn’t, but they wanted to be polite)

They were both quiet for a minute, as Tubbo finished up his cookie. Ranboo finally spoke up, “Hey, do you wanna tell me about some of that while we go on a walk?”

Tubbo’s smile wavered a bit, and he went quiet for a minute. Ranboo was messing with the cufflinks on their suit. “I mean, i-if you don’t want to it’s fine-”

But Tubbo smiled back up at him. “You know, I think I’d actually like that.”

----------

Upon walking outside, Tubbo shielded his eyes for a second.

“Ugh, it’s so bright out here.”

Ranboo snickered, “Well, I mean, yeah, it’s the sun Tubbo.”

He burst out laughing. “Ranboo, oh my Primes-”

As their walk continued, Tubbo rambled on about various different science-related topics, including:

“I’m still trying to figure out nuclear science though, and how to do all that s**t.”

Ranboo just stared at him in wonder. “Tubbo, I- how did you even-? Like the stuff you do is already complicated, how do you even have the energy to want to figure out stuff like nukes?”

Tubbo just shrugged. “I don’t really have much else to do, man. Besides, it’s fun.”

Ranboo snorted. “What?! I’m sorry-?!”

Tubbo rolled his eyes, smiling. “You don’t really have room to talk, Boo. You find going mining for literal hours to be ‘fun.’”

Ranboo gasped, feigning offense. “Hey! In my defense-”

They walked on Tubbo’s left side, where they knew he could definitely see them. They had seen that…very large burn scar on the other half of his face, and they clearly remember a time where Tommy had approached Tubbo on his right and Tubbo had visibly jumped before calming down. Tommy had apologized, of course, but sometimes Ranboo wondered what had happened. What caused that level of scarring.

But, in their eyes, it wasn’t in their place to ask. So they didn’t.

People around them watched the two walk by, chatting up a storm. Most were pretty happy that Tubbo seemed to be doing a bit better, if a little shocked. 

Fundy was one of them. He turned to Quackity and whisper-shouted, “Are you kidding me-?! We just had to get Ranboo to talk to him-?!”

Quackity just laughed. “I mean hey, at least he’s outside and having a good time right?”

And so, the pair continued their walk, soon leaving L’manberg and heading in the direction of The Bench.

(Ranboo had only sat there once, back before Tommy had been exiled. It had actually been the day before he was exiled, if he was remembering right. Tubbo had called Tommy ‘a dumba**’ for the stunt with Spirit’s Leather. And Tommy had talked about Wilbur’s death, talking about some of his pain. He was hurt, and clearly not taking the loss well. But neither was Tubbo, no matter what he said. But Tommy still remained confident that he wouldn’t be exiled, even if he did express some of his fears of if he was exiled. But, again, Tommy seemed confident that nothing was going to happen.

The next day, Dream dragged Tommy from his country-his home. He looked so shocked, so confused, so betrayed, all while Fundy was trying to apologize and Quackity was glaring at Dream.

Ranboo doesn’t think he’ll ever get the look on Tubbo’s face out of his head as long as he lives; a look of heartbreak and confusion, looking as his brother was forcefully dragged from his home, while also screaming “Tommy, I’ll come looking for you!” 

It’s a face and desperate cry that was permanently burned into his memory, as bad as it is.)

And as they approached the area, Ranboo suddenly spoke up. “Hey, do you wanna sit on the bench?”

Tubbo momentarily froze, before calmly stating, “Yeah sure, we can sit.”

He sat on the right side of the bench, and patted the spot next to him.

They paused for a second. “Are-are you sure? I mean-you know…” They gestured to the right side of their face.

Tubbo chuckled. “Yeah man, I’m fine with it.”

And so they sat next to him, staring at the sun getting close to setting.

He suddenly spoke up. “Heh, you know, Tommy would be pretty pissed that we didn’t wait for him.”

Ranboo smiled. “Yeah, he probably would be…”

Tubbo went quiet, shockingly so. He sat staring at the setting sun. “Ran?”

He looked down at him. “Yeah?”

He continued staring at the view. “Is it my fault they’re both gone?”

Ranboo suddenly turned around in complete shock. “Wha-?”

“Wilbur and Toms, I mean,” he started. “Those two.”

Ranboo, still in utter shock, muttered, “I-I could gather that, but-”

“I mean, I abandoned Tom, and he obviously didn’t like that.” Tubbo attempted to laugh. “It’s my fault, really. I really shouldn’t have left him there.” He was sniffling now. “I really, really shouldn’t have left him there, Ran.”

Ranboo hadn’t been expecting this type of confession today. They had just wanted to talk to Tubbo and get him out of the house for the first time in days. And now he was on the verge of tears. 

In fact, tears were streaming down his face at this point. He was crying. He looked up to them, voice shaking. “I just want my family back, Ran. I just want them back.”

They didn’t really know a better way to help other than to just open up their arms like an offer. Tubbo scooted over and just started sobbing into their chest. They didn’t mind.

He tried to wipe Tubbo’s tears away using his fingers, but it would burn them a bit, making him wince. He didn’t stop, though, even as it hurt. Tubbo looked up slightly, not meeting his eyes. “Ran, please don’t, it’ll hurt-”

“No, no, it’s fine. You just take as long as you need.”

As Tubbo clung to them, they started to gently purr. Afterall, they’ve gotta comfort him somehow.

Tubbo froze for a second in confusion. “What’s that?”

“Just purring, don’t worry.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Could you keep doing it?”

They smiled. “Of course.”

And so, the sun set on a pair of teenagers on a bench, clinging to one another for comfort.

And Tubbo isn’t alone anymore.

~~~~~~~~~

link to ao3 :]

[daandyli0n]

you know, the more i think about it, the more i can’t help but think about the Final Control Room from td!Wilbur’s perspective

(warnings: implied daddy issues, basically, mentioned stalking, war, drugs, graphically described death/murder (especially child death/murder), self-hatred, and guilt)

imagine this:

you’ve finally moved close to where your family (which contains a pair of teenagers that you consider siblings and your adult son), believing that you’re going to be able to make a name for yourself, one separate from your father’s. you feel as though your whole life, you’ve been stuck in his shadow. and you hope this place can change that.

(it will, but some days you wonder if it was ever worth it. all the trauma, the death, the loss...you constantly find yourself asking: Was it ever worth it?)

you get told by your son that your brother was getting stalked by the admin for what is ultimately a minor reason. you’re shocked, angry. and why wouldn’t you be?

you just got told that your brother got stalked.

by the admin, no less.

he’s only sixteen.

now, maybe this was where you made your mistake; not directly confronting the man himself and deciding to be petty.

your brother never truly questions why you decide to start a drug van. but s**t hits the fan way quicker and harder than you ever expected it to.

and soon, it’s not just a drug van anymore. it’s a country. a home.

you see yourself having a legacy of your own now. you can kill two birds with one stone: a legacy away from your father and a desperate way to protect your family.

everything is perfect.

until it isn’t.

maybe it’s because you were stupid, that you didn’t see the signs sooner. you and your family are lured into a small, dark box, led by someone you would consider a friend. your brother sets it in motion, albeit unintentionally. he presses a button in the center of the room.

and then all hell breaks loose.

the next thing you know, you’re pinned against the wall, and the terrified, pained screams of your family break out around you, and you feel yourself yelling too, but everything goes too fast.

the scene before you, however, is burned into your memory:

your brother, the one who pressed the button, trying to run away, only for the admin (because the universe hates all of you, apparently) to swing at him, sending your brother to the ground. you can see the blood seeping through his uniform. he doesn’t get up again.

your other brother with a sword sticking through his heart. his screams are cut short. the sword sticking out of his chest is covered in his blood. his eyes are still wide in terror.

your son backed into a corner, begging for his life. his desperate pleas are ignored, and a sword is driven through his chest. his screams, too, are cut short.

your two teenaged brothers (dear Primes, they’re children. and they were practically slaughtered mercilessly) and your son lay dead in front of you. you don’t think you’ll ever get the screaming out of your head.

you aren’t able to break free, to help them. but eventually, you feel a sharp pain in the side of your neck, and everything goes dark.

at least you don’t have to look at that anymore.

you decide that maybe you should all give up. sure, maybe you won’t go down as the man who dared go against a server admin and create a country against his wishes, but at least you’ll go down as the man who was crazy enough to try.

but then your brother demands a duel. against the admin.

well f**k.

you beg him not to. he doesn’t listen.

you’re the one that counts him up to his death, silently praying to the Primes that they’ll have mercy on you just this once. as you reach ten, they both shoot their bows.

you scream in anguish as your brother’s corpse falls into the water, an arrow lodged in his throat.

(somehow, by some miracle, it didn’t hit his voice box. maybe they heard you, to some degree)

you still get your independence, somehow. your brother offers up his discs for your independence.

but even the celebration feels hollow, even as you scream at the admin (“YOOOOOOOO SUCK IT, GREEN BOYYYYY!!”), it all feels unbearably hollow.

because even as you outwardly blame that traitor, inwardly, you can’t help but feel like this is your fault.

you should’ve been more careful.

you should’ve noticed what they were doing.

should’ve gotten out of that guys grip.

should’ve saved your family.

you feel like you were stupid for trusting them, for not asking questions. stupid for not saving all of them. stupid for letting them die.

so you throw yourself into work, so you won’t have to think about it. your brothers try to go back into their lives normally (as if that’s even truly possible). they wear bandanas now, and you know the reason why one of them is wearing it.

a therapist brings themself to your country, claiming they want to help. they’re an avian, a duck-hybrid, you believe. they seem happy, carefree. they have a bright look in their eyes. their name is Quackity. 

you turn them away. the last time you trusted someone outside of your family ended with the four of you slaughtered in a tiny, dark box. what proof is there that it’s not gonna happen again?

they seem surprised, and pissed off, and they walk away, for now. you feel like you could’ve made a better choice in this situation, but, well....

apparently, you’ve never really been one to make good decisions that will end well for you, now have you?

[daandyli0n]

preening and trust

(warnings: very vague references to c!tommy’s trauma, including exile, the prison, and even stuff from before he met c!wilbur, mentions of blood, death/murder, injuries, abuse, implied self harm, etc.)

summary: for as long as ranboo can remember, tommy has never liked people being around his wings, much less touching them. what’s more, tommy especially doesn’t like people being behind him in general after...The Incident with dream in prison

so imagine their shock when tommy suddenly sits down in front of them and asks for them to preen his wings.

or, avians!alliumduo fluff :]

(also, for context, before c!tommy met c!tubbo and c!wil in this au, he lived in a village with c!eryn until they got separated. that was when he was around 6-7. for the next few years until he turned 9, he was practically all by himself in another small town. the people there...weren’t nice to him. they’d drag him around by his wings, just be rough with his wings, etc. even after he finally starting living with wilbur, sally, tubbo, and fundy, he’s still incredibly traumatized by all that. to him, if he lets you anywhere NEAR his wings, or even lets you touch them, then that’s him saying “i trust you with my life.” him letting you preen him is basically an official “Welcome To The Flock!” message.

c!dream didn’t really help with any of that)

oh yeah! c!ranboo is an avian! no enderman genes here unfortunately. ranboo’s a regular ole’ avian here!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a lovely morning in Snowchester, and Ranboo was sitting in the living room.

Michael still wasn’t up (eh, he’s three. Fledglings need a lot of sleep anyway), Tubbo went off to work on...something, and Tommy-

Wait. When was the last time that Tommy had actually been around Snowchester? A few days? A week or so-?

The door slams open. They turn to the doorway. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and grayish-brown wings.

Ah. There he was.

Tommy stands there for a second, staring at him. Ranboo blinked at him. “Uh, hey there Tommy! Been a while, right?”

“I was here three days ago.”

“Oh...that’s how long it’s been?”

Well, in Ran’s defense, their memory was really bad.

Tommy stood still for a few moments more before he suddenly moved into the room. Ranboo assumed that he’s sit in a chair nearby. But, instead, he got right in the middle of the room, turned his back to Ranboo, and plopped down on the floor.

Which was weird. Tommy...never had his back to anyone. Not after Exile, and especially not after the Prison. Tommy would rather put himself in a damn corner with no easy way out than have the chance of someone be able to attack him from behind.

But hey. Maybe Tommy had a rough night and didn’t care enough about someone being behind him. Plus, maybe it was because he was with Ranboo that he felt so comfortable.

They sat in silence for a few minutes more. ‘This is nice,’ Ranboo thought to himself.

All of that silence was shattered when Tommy asked them a single question:

“Hey Ranboo? Could you uh,” he gestured vaguely to his wings, “help me with this?”

They blinked. “I-I’m sorry? Wha-”

“My wings.” he stated, plainly. “Could you help me preen them?”

This...this was-

Ranboo fell silent. This was new.

Not in a bad way of course, just...unexpected.

“I-I-sure! I can do that, just give me a sec-”

They slid down to the floor behind him. Tommy relaxed and his wings spread out so Ran could reach some areas better.

He got to work pretty quickly.

Rearranging feathers, pulling out broken and loose feathers, smoothing the wings out, etc.

Hey! It looked like Tommy was about to start molting soon! Which meant his new (non-clipped) flight feathers might come in soon!

Tommy would fly again!

(Ranboo hadn’t seen Tommy fly before...)

Ranboo attempted to ignore the patches of missing feathers...

(He was alive.

By some miracle he was standing next to them again.

“Are you okay?!” Tubbo had yelled at him.

Tommy didn’t respond.

“I-does that mean the Book is real?” Ranboo asked.

Tommy stood there. His wings were bloody, feathers were everywhere, and-

And...

There were patches missing from his wings.

“Tommy...?” Ranboo tentatively questioned.

He looked up at them.

“Did..did Dream do that to your wings?” they gestured to the bloody spots that were devoid of feathers.

Tommy looked back down. There was still a bit of blood staining his fingers.

He shook his head.)

Tommy was cooing. It sounded peaceful.

After a few minutes, they were finally done. His wings were as good as new.

He smiled gently. “Thank you.”

Ranboo shrugged and replied, “No problem.”

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

“And that’s what happened this morning,” he finished. “Like-I’m not upset, I’m just...confused.”

Tubbo had gotten done with...whatever it had been that he’d said he needed to do earlier this morning. Now they were having lunch.

Michael was in a highchair. He was eating a sandwich.

Tubbo continued looking down at the table. He didn’t even look up.

“It means he trusts you.”

Ranboo froze. “What?”

“He trusts you. He doesn’t let people he doesn’t trust around his wings. But he’s been more comfortable hanging close to you. He’s literally had his back turned to you several times. How have you not noticed this yet?”

“I-I mean, I’ve noticed that it’s a trust thing! But what really confuses me is that he let me preen him Tubbo! I’ve never heard of that being a thing he does!”

“Well...I meant to tell you about that before Tommy got...exiled,” Tubbo started, “but then things became...too much. It’s just-Tommy was gone, and...I didn’t see the point in bringing it up.”

Ranboo just blinked. “I see.”

That was the end of that conversation.

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

It was April. Tommy could fly again.

He was practicing, of course-not using your wings in several months has consequences.

That’s what Tommy had been doing. Practicing. Tubbo was out doing something. Said something about Quackity, but that was all Ranboo had heard.

The door slammed open.

“Ranboo!”

“Hey Tommy.”

He was standing in the doorway again. This time, his wings were filled with small twigs and leaves. There was also snow. A lot of snow. “So, I may or may not have flew straight into a tree...”

They sighed. “Tommy, I thought we’ve all been telling you to be careful..”

“Hey! I have been f**king careful!” he groaned.

Silence for a moment. “Hey Ranboo?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you, uh,” he gestured to his wings, “preen them for me?”

Ranboo didn’t hesitate this time.

“Of course.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i may or may not put this on ao3 in a minute

[daandyli0n]

reverting

summary: reverting is a trauma response pretty much exclusive to half-human hybrids of any type. avians, enderian hybrids, creeper hybrids, you name it. when said hybrid undergoes a prolonged traumatic experience spanning over weeks or even months, there is a chance that they will “revert” as a way survive in their environment better.

(aka: a guide on reverting! nothing else, nope, definitely not-)

(or, c!tommy and c!quackity have an unfortunate similarity)

warnings: c!dream and c!schlatt being a**holes (like, i could technically say worse, but this is the warning i’ll use when those two’s actions are at least discussed (if not shown) in the fic. here, it is merely discussed (well, there is a part discussing c!dream during the prison lockdown, so-)), mentioned abuse (physical and mental), the exile arc is kinda discussed? (like, nothing that happened is shown directly), swearing, parts that could be argued as people either being insensitive or victim blaming, mentioned dehumanization, and discussed trauma. if i missed any, let me know!

(ahem: raccooninnit my beloved <3 see this post for a little more context)

this is about the characters

here we go:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We are here to discuss “reverting” today. Now, you may ask, “What is reverting?” Well, to answer your question briefly, reverting is a trauma response pretty much exclusive only to half-human hybrids, such as avians, for example.

What occurs, to put it simply, is that, if a hybrid goes through a prolonged traumatic experience, there is a chance that they will “revert”, meaning that they are more likely to jump straight into their nonhuman instincts during stressful situations.

Of course, there is one important thing to keep in mind with reverting: it can only really happen after a prolonged traumatic experience. Something like almost dying by falling down a deep cave once wouldn’t cause someone to revert. It would take a long amount amount of time, say several weeks

(“Wait, reverting? I mean-I’ve heard about that, don’t get me wrong, but-”

“Well, he’s never said that he has, nor is there an official diagnosis, but it’s pretty obvious if you actually pay attention to his behavior. Hissing at people when he’s angry or scared, chittering when he’s nervous, lashing his tail around-I mean, the signs are all there.”

“Okay, but...how? Look, I’ve been alive for a while now, but I’m still not completely sure-”

“It only happens after a prolonged period, Foolish. ...He was exiled for a while, about a couple of weeks, if I’m remembering right-”

“A couple of weeks?! Wh-But how? How does a couple of weeks-?”

“Look, the thing about reverting is that the severity of the instincts and behaviors depends on the severity of the traumatic event. So, if the traumatic event was pretty bad for the hybrid in question...”

“I still don’t understand, Ponk! What could’ve happened during a few weeks-?!”

“We don’t know, Foolish. He doesn’t talk about it. What can be assumed, of course, is that it was horrific. Of course, I’ve also see a lot of server members who don’t seem to particularly care about that, so...”

“But-Ponk, how would a couple of weeks be enough? To cause that?”

“Foolish, that’s the thing. Timelines for reverting are...difficult to understand. A hybrid in his situation might not even revert. Maybe they would, but only after a longer period of time. One of the shortest reverting times recorded was three days, and the hybrid in question was being tortured to the brink of death daily. All in all Foolish, why it only took a couple of weeks for him to revert may never be understood.

What matters, Foolish, is that, for Tommy, around two weeks was enough for him.”)

or even months for a hybrid to revert.

(“Big Q?”

“Oh. Hey Tubbo. What’s up?”

“Wilbur...wanted to ask why flinched so hard? Like, he apologizes for startling you, but-”

“Tell him that if he wants to apologize he can come and do it himself. But it’s o-”

“Wait wait, I think I reworded it wrong.”

“Hmm?”

“Like...I think he asked why your wings puffed up like they did? He said that his have never done that-”

“Tell him it’s none of his business. Besides, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“D-do you think that...what he did might-?”

“Like I said Tubbo; I’m sure it’s nothing. Tell Wilbur it’s okay, but the wing stuff is none of his business.”

“...Okay.”)

The reason that reverting is believed to happen is as a survival tactic. Think about it; your nonhuman instincts could help you get out of bad situations easier. At least, that’s your brain’s way of thinking about it.

Now, the instincts, compulsions, and behaviors are usually ones that the hybrid can’t control, like making inhuman noises,

(“Tommy, look, I know you can’t control it-”

“Then why are you even bringing it up?!”

“...but do you think you could, I don’t know, try to quiet the raccoon noises down?”

“Why do you think I ate the gapples?!”

“TOMMY, EATING STUFF MAKES MORE NOISE-!”

“WELL WHAT DO WANT ME TO DO?!”)

flapping wings while stressed,

(“(He’s been pacing around for about five minutes now...I don’t think I’ve seen his wings flutter like that...)”)

hissing, growling, and thinking about clawing or biting someone who’s ‘threatening’ them, are involuntary. It’s typically something the hybrid in question can’t control.

(“Sam Nook?”

“YES, QUACKITY?”

“Why does Tommy look depressed?”

“WELL, I GAVE TOMMYINNIT SOME COTTON CANDY TO EAT-”

“Oh gods, I think I know where this is going-”

“AND HE TOOK IT AND TRIED TO...WASH IT. ...HE’S BEEN STARING AT THAT POND FOR TEN MINUTES LIKE THAT...”

“...Give me a minute. I’ll check up on him...”)

Of course, that’s not to say that once a hybrid reverts, their behaviors will never become more severe. If a hybrid goes through a second traumatic experience,

(“Quackity? You...never did the wing-flapping thing during Pogtopia.”

“...Tubbo, what are you getting at-?”

“Do-do you need to talk about anything-?”

“What? No no no, it’s just-it’s just stress Tubbo. Nothing more. I’m just stressed.”)

then their behaviors can increase in severity.

Of course, you’re probably asking, “What do you mean by severity?” Well...to very quickly summarize, it can be interpreted to mean how visible your behaviors are. For example, one hybrid’s behaviors may almost appear to be nothing more than just exaggerated versions of behaviors they already had, something quite common with avians, so much so to the point where they’re barely noticeable,

(“Hey Qua-”

*Quack!*

“....”

“..You heard nothing.”

“Huh...I don’t think Wilbur’s feathers fluffed up like that-”

“shUT-”)

while another hybrid might have behaviors that are very obvious and almost impossible to cover up.

(“Hey Tommy-”

*quiet hiss*

“...Don’t hiss at me-”

“Shut the f**k up, man. I’ll hiss at you if I want to. Serves you right after all you’ve done.”

*sigh* “...Look, I just came over here because you were chittering again.”

“Oh really? Wow! I never would’ve noticed. Why do you think I’m doing it?”

“Well, that’s kind of why I came over here. I’ve read about it-”

“Of f**king course you have.”

“...and I’ve heard it’s because you’re anxious.”

“Oh really, Dream? I’m nervous? I wonder why. Definitely couldn’t be because I’m stuck in here with you.”

“Yeah, definitely not that.”

“...I hate the fact that you sound completely serious.”

“Look, I’m just trying to help! It’s like I told you when you first got here: we can bond again. Just like Ex-”

“NO! No-shut the f**k up! I thought I said to never bring up Exile, ever!”

“...”

“...Get the f**k away from me. Go back over there-as far away from me as you can get-and stay there.”

“Okay, okay! I’m just trying to help.”

“Sure, Dream. Sure.”

“...Oh yeah, and Tommy?”

“What.”

“Your tail is lashing around again.”

“ARE YOU F**KING KIDDING ME-”)

Of course, both sides have their disadvantages to have (besides, of course, the trauma that caused it obviously). For those with almost nonexistent behaviors, it’s obviously harder for them to get diagnoses, as well as it being easier for them to simply be in denial,

(“Puffy, as much as I appreciate you checking in-”

“Quackity, I’m serious. I’m not trying to assume anything. But..I’ve got some evidence that you might-”

“It’s just because of stress, Puffy. Has Tubbo told you about this? I mean, I glad he cares so much, but-”

“Quackity, I’ve...heard about how Schlatt was. I don’t think you’re okay.”

“...I’m fine Puffy. That-that stuff was forever ago.”

“Tommy’s exile was a while ago. It’s obviously still affecting him. Can I at least leave some contact info with you?”

“...Sure.”

“Alright Quackity. If you ever need to talk, you know how to reach me.”)

and for those with very obvious behaviors, they are sometimes simply labelled as ‘feral’ and just dehumanized in general.

(“Puffy, are hearing this s**t?!”

“Yes Tommy, I-”

“They all just call me a “feral child” and “feral raccoon!” Like-do they think that I want to do any of this?! Do they think I can control this?!”

“Look, Tommy, I think I know who’s saying some of this stuff. If you want me to talk to-”

“No, no Puffy! I-I’m a Big Man! I can handle it-”

“Tommy, part of my job is making sure you don’t have to deal with this stuff on your own. Please just let me help.”

“It-it’s fine. Say, I’ve been thinking of growing my nails out into claws. I think it’d look pog.”

“...I mean, if it makes you feel better...”

“Besides, if they’re all just going to call me ‘feral’ anyway, why not just own it?”

“..That...sure is one way to go about it...”)

Now, there is one major solace that hybrids who have reverted have. Which is the knowledge that they are not alone. That there are others like them.

(“Hey Big Q?”

“Yeah Tommy?”

“...Do you think I’m just a “feral raccoon kid?””

“No! Not at all! I think-no, I know there’s more to you than that. Who’s been saying that?”

“... A lot of people...”

“Well, I think you’re a pretty good kid.

....You’ve been through a lot, huh?”

“Haven’t you also been through some stuff?”

“...Yeah, I guess so.”

“...Can I stay here and hang out for a bit? Tubbo and Ranboo are busy with stuff, I kinda don’t wanna see Wil right now, and I don’t know where Eryn is.”

“Sure Tommy. We can hang out for a while.”)

So, that’s all of the time we have for talking about reverting today. I hope you all learned something, dear readers!

(“..Thanks, Big Q.”

“No Problem, Tommy.”)

[daandyli0n]

rumor has it

(aka, a oneshot from the Burnt Leaves au, from the perspective of kittypets/loners outside of the main cast. y’all are getting a bit of lore too :))

warnings: referenced animal death, referenced murder, referenced animal-on-animal violence, referenced child abandonment. if y’all want me to anymore tws, let me know!

(this is about the characters)

~~~~~~~~~~~

Rumor has it that there was an old stray who could talk to crows.

His fur was a pale gold, his eyes the color of the sky the birds flew through.

He walked into the forest one day and hasn’t been heard from since. However, some believe that he still lives, and that he even has kits of his own.

----------

Rumor has it that there was a beautiful ginger she-cat who could swim as good as a fish despite being a cat, with a spirit as strong as as a forest fire.

Her fur was the color of an ember’s glow, her eyes the color of the ocean.

She also walked into the forest, claiming to have “met someone”; some tom calling himself “Soot”. She has never been heard from since either.

(Rumor has it that after the infamous forest fire, the river in the woods ran red with blood. There was a body near the banks, but no one who went adventuring that day had the strength to get a closer look. 

The fur was a dark ginger, like an ember’s glow...)

----------

Rumor has it that there were two cousins, runaways from The Cat Lady who lived on the edge of the woods. Apparently, they both wanted adventure. To look for those mysterious “clans” that are said to be in the woods.

Both were dark brown, but one, Quackity he called himself, was smaller, with shorter fur and black tabby stripes. The other, MD, was much bigger, solidly brown, and was fluffy. Both had the brightest golden eyes.

They both went in to the woods together. Neither has really ever been seen again.

(Rumor has it that there’s a marked grave somewhere in the woods near the cliffside. A branch with a bloodied collar hanging off it, a familiar collar when it’s described to The Cat House’s residents.

“Wasn’t that MD’s collar? What’s it doing on a grave?”)

(Rumor has it that there is a clan that popped up around the dried meadow, sometimes called the desert. There, you’ll find a leader. He is not a large, broad-shouldered cat. No, he’s quite scrawny, actually. His fur almost never lies flat, like he’s constantly on edge. What is most concerning, however, is his face. Half of his face appears to have been clawed by a dog, though he claims that another cat caused it. He looks so young, but he looks like he’s aged at the same time. He looks so tired, so stressed. He calls himself “Duckstar”.)

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

Rumor has it that, when the old baker moved, he couldn’t bring his cat with him. She was left behind. She became a stray.

Rumor has it that there was once a stray that struggled with his loneliness, no street group of his own.

Rumor has it they stuck together once they met.

She was ginger with black spots, and her eyes were a brown-green. He was a regular brown tabby with mismatched red and blue eyes.

They also both walked into the woods one day. They also haven’t been heard from since. Something about “Soot”-wait. Didn’t we hear of him once before?

----------

Rumor has it that there is a stray, a lone traveler, with completely blank eyes that glow in the darkness. The traveler with a mysterious past, and apparently no memories of said past. There is a scar crossing their face.

A pale siamese with white eyes. That’s how others have described them.

Like the others, they also walked into the woods and never returned. Apparently, they also met this odd “Soot” guy. Huh. He seems popular.

(Rumor has it that there’s a forest cat named “Glowstar”. They seem quite calm, level-headed. A leader too.

They’re a pale siamese that’s been described as having “odd, blank eyes”. Apparently they also have “odd, but not Bad vibes”.)

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

Rumor has it that Kasper is the son of The Crow Whisperer we talked about and is the brother of “Soot”.

He’s a blue-gray cat, with blue eyes. Guess what his favorite color is?

His backyard fence faces the woods.

Now, people would be skeptical of his claims...if it weren’t the fact that...well..

He almost seemed to have a deep knowledge of how herbs worked.

He seemed to have a friendship with the crows.

And that he seemed to have oddly good wilderness survival skills.

(Rumor has it that, when he had kits with that one she-cat, that he gave up is eldest daughter-his beloved daughter-to be raised in the woods. Some wonder how she’s doing.

Besides the stress of her mentor being threatened with murder on a constant basis, as well the fact that she was in danger too, she’d actually say that she loves her life.)

-----------

Rumor has it that there’s a dark red cat who left to start a group of their own in the woods. They said that they wanted control over the forest, to prove one of those “clan leaders” that “kittypets” could be just as powerful as the forest cats themselves. Some joked that they were going into the forest to start a cult. 

Maybe they all should’ve been concerned with the fact that the red cat never laughed along.

What do you think happened to them? Did you guess, “They walked off into the woods?” If so, you’re right!

(The name “Egg” still gives the forest cats a sense of fear and dread to this day.)

-----------

Rumor has it that two she-cats left their young kits in the woods a long time ago.

One was a scottish fold. Her two older, healthier kits in the litter unfortunately didn’t make it. In her eyes, if those two didn’t make it, why would the runt of the litter make it? She claims that he was left in a box in the middle of the woods.

However, another she-cat’s abandonment was a lot less willing. She could barely take care of herself. How could she take care of a young kit? And so, she came to the conclusion that she’d leave him in the woods and hope for the best. She left him Near the aforementioned box. So she says, anyway.

(In the woods somewhere, Sunkit and Beekit are found by a young leader expecting a kit himself. The two young kits would be given a happy home. Sootstar would make sure of it.)

----------

Rumor has it that, when two older abandoned housecats found an abandoned shack in the woods, they both decided to move there themselves. Hey, it’s free shelter! Why wouldn’t they take it?

They walked into the woods, and...well....

---------

Rumor has it that, one night, screams of agony and terror rang out from somewhere in the forest. Some say from the general area where the shack is.

-----------

Rumor has it that, when some explorers came across the shack, they found an empty building, with lots of cat blood staining the walls and floor.

Way too much blood for its owners to still be alive.

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

Rumor has it that Vikk and Lazar definitely haven’t been heard from since.

----------

Rumor has it that one of these odd forest cats has control over life and death itself. That he’s stronger than any of them could ever guess.

Nobody has wanted to test this rumor’s truthfulness.

(After all, for all they know, Vikk and Lazar may as well have figured that one out themselves in the worst way possible.)

----------

-------

----

Rumor has it that there’s a reason why walking into the forest isn’t safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~

hope y’all enjoy!

(also, i forgot to put c!schlatt’s story and rumor in here, but i’m too tired for that right now-)

[daandyli0n]

hey guys :]

i made a thing :]

[daandyli0n]

three’s a pattern

(warnings: Sam’s Time In Prison is referenced, c!sam is. Not Doing Too Hot, implied character death/murder, referenced torture)

summary: Foolish looked at him in concern. “Sam? Could you, uh, open your wings for me?”

Sam seemed to tense at that. Well, tense more than he already had. Foolish attempted to reassure him, “I-I’ll stay right over here! I’m not gonna get any closer than this if you don’t want to.���

Sam looked uncertain, but he eventually sighed. With that, he unfurled his wings.

And Foolish looks at the sight before him in horror.

or, some hurt and comfort, but mostly angst, between avian!sam and avian!foolish. oh yeah, and avian!dream shows up very briefly at the beginning.

(context: avian!foolish is a golden eagle

avian!sam is a california condor

and avian!dream is a loggerhead shrike)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam and Dream were having some conversation about an island that Sam lived on or something. Foolish wasn’t really paying attention, honestly. He was still trying to process the fact that Dream had said that he was tortured.

And that Sam had let it happen.

Sam seemed to be giving Dream some vague directions to his island or something.

“I-it’s past the Prison over there somewhere, it-”

“Okay.”

“I-it’s still-”

“Alright, maybe I’ll stop by one day and say hello.”

Sam sounded so defeated. “...Okay...”

With that, Dream left. Sam still looked...incredibly tensed up.

As Foolish turned to Sam to try and check if he was okay, Sam began trying to talk about the project with Sam Nook.

That was less of what Foolish was concerned about.

Sam had kept his folded wings...incredibly close to his back, and even tried to flatten them further when Dream walked closer to him. He seemed to be genuinely terrified whenever Dream would talk to him or even look in his direction. Which was...extremely concerning, to say the least.

“Sam-Sam, I’m gonna need you to calm down a bit.”

Sam let out a surprised *squawk* when Foolish mentioned his name and spun to look at him. He had a wild look in his eyes. “I-I’m fine Foolish, really-”

“No Sam. You’re not.”

Now, Foolish has been alive long enough to know how Avian Body Language works.

If someone has their wings flattened that much?

They’re either trying to hide something wrong with their wings, or they really, really do not want someone around their wings.

And Foolish honestly couldn’t tell which it was.

“Sam, I need you to breathe. Can you just...take some deep breaths?”

He seemed to be trying to breathe, but it was...well, he was trying. It was clear that he was trying to calm down.

When his breathing finally evened out, Foolish took a look at his wings. Surely, if Sam had simply been freaked out by Dream being there, then Sam would open his wings a bit.

Sam’s wings didn’t unfurl.

Well, that was gonna change in a second.

Foolish looked at him in concern. “Sam? Could you, uh, open your wings for me?”

Sam seemed to tense at that. Well, tense more than he already had. It looked like he was mildly panicking about that. Foolish attempted to reassure him, “I-I’ll stay right over here! I’m not gonna get any closer than this if you don’t want to.” To prove his point, he stepped back a couple of steps further.

Sam looked uncertain, but he eventually sighed. Whether Sam was actually relieved and believed him, or if he truly didn’t believe him but thought he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, Foolish didn’t know. Sam took a deep breath and, with that, he unfurled his wings.

And Foolish looks at the sight before him in horror.

Sam’s wings were clipped.

Ah. So Sam was trying to hide something wrong with his wings. Okay, sure. Foolish was prepared for that.

But Sam, the former Warden of the Prison, having his wings clipped? It almost seemed like some weird irony.

Didn’t make it any less horrifying.

Suddenly, many things about Dream’s visit, and Sam’s behavior during it, made sense. Did...Dream do it again? 

Because Foolish has heard of Dream doing this at least twice before.

And, well, there’s a saying about this that Foolish had heard before:

One Time Is Chance,

Twice Is A Coincidence,

Three’s A Pattern

And Dream has reached #3.

But Foolish didn’t want to ask for specifics at the moment.

“I-Oh no, Sam let me look at that-”

Sam flinched back. “N-no, it’s honestly okay-”

“Sam, it’s literally not. Did Dream do that?”

Sam fell oddly silent at that. Foolish would take that as a yes.

“Can you at least let me look at them?”

Sam gave a short nod. As Foolish look at Sam’s feathers, he noticed that the feathers seemed to have been clipped...a while back. Maybe a few months?

“Sam, how long has it been since you molted?”

“...I can’t even remember.”

Well...this would be...mildly more challenging. But Foolish had an idea.

Sure, he wasn’t entirely sure if it would work, but it was worth a shot, right?

Foolish pulled out a regeneration potion and held it out to Sam. “I don’t know if this’ll help, but maybe you could drink this to see if it heal the feathers.”

Sam took the bottle. “Thanks Foolish, uh, I’ll see if this ends up working.”

Foolish gave a small smile. “Anytime! I think you should probably go home and calm down a bit.”

Sam chuckled a bit. “Yeah, I’ll go do that. Thanks again.”

With that, Foolish watched as Sam walked back to the portal. He folded his wings back up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hey. hey guys.

we’ve learned about two of the three people avian!dream clipped the wings of (sam and tommy)

who do you think the last person is :)

[daandyli0n]

🍽 for…. c!Tubbo?

(hope you don't mind, but i'm gonna do this for my Avians Au! i meant to clarify that more in the original reblog-

so, have some new l'manberg avians!beeduo :]

for a little bit of an idea for how to imagine what these two look like:

-c!tubbo has the wings/feathers of a eurasian golden oriole

-c!ranboo (who isn't half-enderman, half-??? in this au) looks like a person with half-black half-white hair, has heterochromia (red and green), has freckles, and wears a face mask (similar to cc!ranboo). they have the wings/feathers of a black-and-white warbler)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tubbo?"

Tubbo looked up from his work to see who was speaking to him.

Oh.

"Hey Ranboo." He set his pen down. "You need something?"

Their wings were twitching anxiously. "O-Oh no, I'm just here to give you something. It's a gift from someone actually."

Well this was...unexpected. "A gift? Well, what is i-"

Ranboo reached out, took Tubbo's hand, and placed something in it.

Tubbo slowly opened his fingers.

There was a cookie.

"Niki wanted me to give it to you. She said she hoped you enjoy it!"

Tubbo gave a small smile.

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

nice and short fluff :3

[daandyli0n]

Shut Eye, Act One: Uneven Footing

chapter two: urban legends and mounting tensions

hey guys :] the myths and legends mentioned are of some minecraft youtubers/streamers and other famous minecraft things!

(warnings: very brief moment of dehumanization and more hybrid stereotypes)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been five days. Things were going well.

Well, as well as things could be going, given that-

“Did those two F**KS seriously destroy the cow and chicken fences AGAIN?!”

Yeah…

Signal and Coyote aren’t the best neighbors.

Hickory ran outside as Slate and Vexen continued eating their breakfast. Slate groaned. “I guess Ory’s not gonna be able to play with us again, huh?”

Vex sighed. “Yeah, I guess not…”

“You wanna go play in the woods? We can play Alex and Steve again!”

“You know I love that game!”

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

They had been running around the woods surrounding the cabin for around an hour now.

Now they were lying on the forest floor, with Vex picking at a bright red poppy and Slate stared up at the sky. “Do you know the legend of the Blood God?”

Vex paused her plucking for a moment. “What?”

“The Blood God. Y’know, the one who was one of the greatest PVPers in all the servers and all the lands? The one so great that Hypixel still remembers him to this day?”

“I remember Freeze telling me about him, yes.”

“Did you know that he is also known as the world’s best potato farmer?”

Vex sat up. “What?!”

Slate still looked up at the sky. “Yeah. He competed against another member of Hypixel to become the number one potato farmer, worked hard for days and nights, and even spied on his competitor. And after all of his hard work, he finally did it.”

Vex blinked at him. “Did…something bring this up?”

“...All I’m saying is that if Coyote really believes that I can’t be both a good farmer and a good PVPer, then I'll just tell him about the Blood God.”

He slowly sat up. “Do you wanna hear about some other ones?”

Vex nodded. “Sure.”

Slate held up his fingers. “There’s The Angel of Death-it’s said that he was very close to the Blood God and is even married to Lady Death-who is said to be a wonderful builder and has lived for millennia, this totem demigod who once built a statue for a god, this country that didn’t exist for very long, but was very beloved, and called L’manberg or something, Steve, Alex, Herobrine, all of those dudes, y’know?”

Vex gave a shy smile. “You really got into those mythology books from Freeze, huh?”

“Yeah…” He stood up. “So, you ready to keep going?”

Vex grabbed onto his hand. “Of course, Sheep Steve.”

“PFFT-”

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

Hickory led the cows and chickens by some leads. “Primes f**king darn it-” he grumbled. “It’s the second time this week.”

He led the animals further into the woods, searching for the final chicken that was missing.

Which was somehow much harder than he thought it would be.

It was starting to get annoying.

He was about to consider turning back and just hatching another chicken when he heard voices nearby. Familiar voices. He turned to see who it was and-

Well, wouldn’t you know it?

“HEY!” he yelled.

Signal and Coyote turned to him quickly. They appeared shocked for whatever reason.

“You two have a lot of nerve deciding to try that f**king stunt again.” He spat as he marched over.

Signal got in front of Coyote and held his hands up. “Now now, let’s talk about this-”

“I think we get a tad bit past the point of talking when you guys show up to my house and “prank it” almost daily and let my farm animals out.”

“He honestly acts like he’s much better than them.” Coyote muttered, loud enough for the other two to hear.

Hickory snapped his head to look at him. “Wanna say that again?”

Coyote opened his mouth, but Signal held his hand up to quiet him. “Listen, Hickory, we like to do some pranking around here, and we genuinely mean no true harm behind it.”

Signal paused. “Along with that, there’s also something we’ve been meaning to talk about with you…you act…very different from how we were expecting.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sheep hybrids are usually, how do put this, more likely to follow what people of authority say.”

And, oh, how that statement pissed him off.

“Oh, so that's how we are? All of us?”

He stepped closer to them, anger radiating off of him like a heater. “Look, I’m not gonna sugarcoat this for you a**holes since you can’t seem to understand otherwise: Me and my brother aren’t like that. I’ve seen where the kind of culture my kind has can lead people, and so I decided that I wouldn’t go down that path. I’ll repeat it again because you don’t seem to understand this-”

He grabbed onto Signal’s collar, “I’m not just gonna follow your orders, whims, and demands due to the simple fact that you’re both above me in status.”

He let him go. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some animals to take home.”

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

“Slate? Vex? Can you two come here for a second?”

Covered in dirt and leaves, the pair walked into the kitchen. Slate was the first to speak. “Yes, Ory?”

Hickory took a deep breath. “Look. Things are getting…complicated between me, Signal, and Coyote. So I need you two to promise me something.”

Vex nodded. “Of course we can.”

“Okay. If I tell you two to go play in the woods and to take Elliot with you, I want you to take Elliot with you and go to the main area of the server. Stay there until I come get you. Could you two do that for me?”

The pair spoke in unison, “Of course!”

He sighed. “Thank you. Go get cleaned up, I’m about to get dinner ready.”

As the pair ran off, Hickory sat at the table, attempting to calm down. Only one thought crossed his mind.

He was close to reaching his limit.

~~~~~~~~~~~

the angst is next chapter my friends :]

also, (young) Slate my beloved <3

[daandyli0n]

Shut Eye, Act One: Uneven Footing

chapter one: it begins with a cabin and a fresh start

ah yes, a happy little family just moving to a new server! i’m sure nothing traumatizing is gonna happen to anyone!

(no real warnings (yet), except for some very vague hybrid stereotyping and some vaguely implied familial issues)

~~~~~~~~~~~

Server 303 is a strange one.

First, it is the only known server that has a hellhound simply living on the server. Hellhounds, working for both Lady Death herself and the Deity of Vengeance, typically only arrive on servers to drag souls that are marked to face the Goddess of Death and their crimes. The Hounds typically don’t just live their lives peacefully on a server. They are typically there for a purpose.

Second, the server also allowed anyone to be there. Invite or not. It’s a blessing for many; Sea Dwellers having to travel across long stretches of river to make it to the ocean safely, avians traveling long distances, heck: even wanderers just passing through.

The server’s admin and his right-hand man are their own category of Strange.

The server’s admin, known simply as ‘Signal’, and the right-hand man, who was simply known as ‘Coyote’ (it’s well known that it’s not his real name, but he’s never given it to anyone but Signal), were quite odd. Signal, a Screen-Headed Robot with a scary amount of sentience, and Coyote…well, a coyote hybrid. 

It’s odd to see a coyote hybrid with such a high position.

People typically don’t trust coyotes.

Add onto the fact that they were both skilled fighters and insanely strong, and…well, there’s your “Own Category Of Strange.”

But, of course, that didn’t shake the courage of a young sheep hybrid and his family, simply looking for a new beginning.

Enter Hickory Silverslip.

He suddenly plopped down onto the server’s spawn area, disoriented (entering servers is a b**ch in his humble opinion), with a small baby strapped to his chest, and clutching the hand of a small fox(?) girl. On his other side, a much smaller sheep hybrid stumbled dizzily from his own entrance.

Hickory wasn’t what many people would think of if they thought “sheep hybrid”; brown wool, bright teal eyes, dressed in a gray shirt and an orange flannel, some black pants (specifically made to fit a hybrid’s legs), and holding his long wool in a ponytail of sorts. The main indicators of him being a sheep hybrid were his horns and hooves.

The girl on his right had purple hair, fox ears, and a tail. She wore a white t-shirt with a teal flower design on it and some black pants. Her eyes were purple…but one had black sclera and the other was white. There were very thin slits on the sides of her mouth.

The stumbling boy had black wool, silver-blue eyes, and freckles. He was dressed in a long-sleeved red shirt underneath black overalls. On the front, there was a small stitched-on design of an apple. His wool was relatively short and curly, but a long bit of his bangs were covering his right eye.  He is clutching a small wooden sword. He was starting to look up in wonder.

The infant was a deer hybrid. Light brown hair, bright green eyes, and some fawn spots on his legs. He was in a lilac shirt. He was still napping on his father’s chest.

Hickory got his bearings and looked around at the children. “Alright…are we all okay?” He looked down at the enderfox girl beside him. “Vexen?”

Vex groaned. “I’m okay…”

He turned to his left. “Slate?”

The lamb stumbled more for a second, before he tried to stand up straight. “Yeah, yeah, just a lil’ dizzy is all…” He almost tripped over air as he finished that sentence.

Hickory stifled back a laugh before looking back down at the baby strapped to him. “And Elliot’s still asleep. Surprisingly.”

He brushed himself off and helped his siblings up. Slate let out a groan. “Alright, so, shouldn’t Mr. Admin be showing up to show us around, or-?”

Almost as if on cue, two people walked up. One was a robot, and the other appeared to be…a dog hybrid? A wolf?

The robot was busy chatting away to the mysterious hybrid beside him, while the hybrid suddenly looked up to them at full alert. The robot suddenly stopped, noticing the group at spawn.

The robot had a TV-like head with a white screen, the screen also having a face on it. The face had changed from one of minor surprise to one of cheer. He seemed happy to see them at least. He was wearing a pale blue sweater and some light gray pants. He also seemed to have some kind of black shoes.

The hybrid next to him seemed to be some kind of wolf or dog hybrid, with pale ginger hair, gray eyes, and seemed to have some freckles. He almost seemed to be dressed in a button up shirt and some brown pants.

Of course, Hickory knew who these two were.

Signal and Coyote.

Which meant that the hybrid was a coyote hybrid.

“Ah! Welcome, welcome! You must be Hickory!” Signal greeted, holding out a hand.

Hickory cautiously extended his own hand out. “Yep, that’s me. You’re Signal, right?”

“You would be very correct, my friend! The one and only! If I remember correctly, you’re settling down around here, right?”

“Yep. We just want to do a quick tour around the main area and then get to making a little house-”

Signal suddenly interjected, “Oh no no no, there’s no need to concern yourself over that! We have an abandoned cabin that’s in the woods that you could stay in if you want! Just a few missing blocks and the windows are a bit cracked, but nothing too difficult to fix!”

Hickory smiled. “Ah, well, that’s a relief. Building doesn’t come naturally to me.”

He grabbed onto Vex and nodded to Slate, who seemed to have finally gotten his balance back. “Well, where’s it at?”

Signal’s screen changed its emotion into a beaming smile. “Oh, just follow us! Come on, Coyote!”

Coyote quickly turned around and followed the group. He was still watching the newcomers like a hawk.

—----------------------

“You know, I don’t think I got your last names.”

Hickory cocked his head. “You didn’t?” He seemed lost in thought. “Could’ve sworn I wrote those down on the request…”

He looked back at Signal. “But our last name is Silverslip.”

Signal’s screen’s expression turned to one of shock. Coyote’s eyes snapped up from Slate, who was gently attempting to whack at his tail with his wooden sword. “‘Silverslip’? As in, Bane Silverslip?”

Hickory’s smile slipped into a frown. “Um…yes? Do you know my father?”

“Do we know-?!”

“Of course we do. Who doesn’t?” Coyote suddenly spoke up. It was the first time he had spoken up since they had gotten there. “Bane Silverslip is a rather famous man, you know.”

Hickory let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “Well, uh, what’s the problem, exactly?”

Signal glanced over at Coyote. “Well, it’s just-Coyote, did Bane ever publicly talk about any kids?”

Coyote let out a small ‘hmm.’ “None but Freeze, if I recall.” 

Hickory’s smile faltered for a moment. “O-oh.” he stammered out. “I just thought…I mean, we’ve been living together for about four years now…so I just thought…but it’s fine.” Bitterness crept into his tone at the end.

Coyote huffed. “Y’know, I don't remember lamb kids being this annoying.”

Slate gasped. “Hey! It’s not my fault that you people can’t take my awesome fighting skills!” Slate seemed more proud of himself than upset at the comment.

Hickory snapped his head back. “Hey, Slate? We can practice with the sword later, okay?” He glared at Coyote. “And you, watch it. He’s four. And my brother.”

Coyote returned the glare. “Now listen here-”

Signal got between them. “Coyote please. Y’know, Hickory has a point: Slate’s a child, he probably doesn’t know any better.” There was something…odd in his tone. “Though, now that you mention it, I don’t think that I’ve ever seen a sheep hybrid interested in combat before. Aren’t they typically farmers and such?”

Hickory frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Just saying, that’s from my knowledge man.”

“Still, if he wants to get good at combat, then he can.”

Coyote smirked. “Well, from my knowledge, sheep hybrids typically aren’t…how do I say this..good fighters?”

Slate yelled out a “what?!” and Hickory looked clearly pissed. “You little-”

Signal pushed them both back. “Okay, okay, let’s just get to the cabin so these people can get their things settled. We’ll…do the tours tomorrow, alright? Give you both some time to cool down.”

And so the group continued on towards the cabin. But not before Hickory shot Coyote a glare, pulled out his communicator, and typed out a message. Coyote got a small ‘ping.’

Hickory whispered to you: F**k you man

—-------------------

“Okay. What colors do you two want your beds to be?”

Slate scoffed. “Red, of course! It’s the coolest color ever, y’know.”

Vex yelled out “Purple!”

Hickory sighed, “Well…we have some red dye, but we don’t have any blue. And, unfortunately, it’s too dark out to get any. If I had some tools, then maybe I’d consider it, but…”

He looked over to her. “Also, your room has a lot of holes in it. You and Slate might have to share a room for a bit, just until I repair the other rooms. You won’t mind that, right?”

“Pfft, of course I won’t! We’re best buddies, remember?”

Hickory smiled. “Didn’t think you’d mind, but just wanted to check.”

As the pair were put to bed, Slate lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Restless.

“Hey Vex?”

“Yeah?”

He fiddled around with the blanket. “Do-do you think that I’ll be a good fighter? Even though I’m a sheep?”

“Of course man! I don’t care what that Coyote guy says, I believe in you!”

“It’s just-I also wanna farm, but I also wanna be able to protect myself. To protect all of us.”

“Ignore that guy, Slate. He’s just being a meanie. You can do it, no matter what all those mean bullies say about you!”

He smiled. “Thanks Vex.”

“No problem Bro. Now go to sleep before Ory comes in here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yep...no angst incoming at all...just pure fluff, i promise (there will be angst, at least by chapter three)

(is it possible to put oc stuff on ao3-?)

[daandyli0n]

he knows, doesn’t he?

screw it, i’m writing a drabble based off that thought i had earlier.

summary: Ms. Beatrice travels to the SMP, hoping to find out what became of her cryptid child, Nexus. Upon arriving, however, she finds herself face-to-face with the admin himself, and suspicions arise.

warnings: emotional distress and grief, c!dream being an a**hole, manipulation(?), implied kidnapping and (child) murder, body horror (nex has golden blood, so maybe??). if i need to add more, let me know!

this is about the characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hooves beat against the earth below them as rain pelted down. She couldn’t stop for even a second, she had a child to find.

How had she been so stupid? She should’ve come sooner. Maybe Nex would still be-

No. She couldn’t think like that. She had to have hope. They had to be okay.

She should’ve never let them go alone. She should’ve gone with them.

It was fine. She was almost there, right?

She finally stepped towards the area that was, supposedly, the “spawn area”. As the horse finally stepped close enough to the area, a message popped up in her communicator:

Ms. Beatrice has joined the game.

...She hoped it would’ve been more secretive. Very soon, messages in the chat began popping up ranging from questions about why she was there to some people welcoming her to a few people telling her to f**k off. Very warm.

It’s fine. They weren’t why she was here. But as she hopped off her horse to begin her search-

“Hey, are you new here?”

She jumped and quickly spun around. In front of her was the admin himself.

DreamWasTaken. Dream. One of the most mysterious motherf**kers out there. 

And he was standing there almost calmly. His hands were behind his back, and his head was slightly tilted in confusion.

She cleared her throat and tried to regain some composure (what little she had started with). “Uh, not exactly. I’m here to look for someone actually-”

“Oh really? Who’re you looking for?”

“My child.”

He let out a small ‘hmm’. “Who’s your child? I could hel-”

“Her name is Nexus. She actually showed up here a few months ago, I believe.”

Silence. Almost dead silence. Only the quiet birdsong and rustling of the pines could be heard.

Something is wrong.

“Oh, Nexus? They’re fine. I’ve talked to them recently. I think you have no reason to worry, ma’am.”

Something is wrong.

“I...don’t think you-you understand sir,” she tentatively spoke, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, “I-I haven’t heard from them in several weeks now, I just need to see if they’re okay-”

“She’s fine, I wouldn’t worry too much. Don’t worry I know-”

She couldn’t do this. “Dream. Please. She always used to send me letters, she wouldn’t just stop out of nowhere without warning. You have to at least understand why I want to at least look.” Those tears were falling now.

His voice suddenly turned very cold. “I think you should leave.”

Her blood froze.

“A week.” she sobs. “That’s all I ask of you. One week to look, I’ll leave here as soon as that time runs out, you have my word. Please don’t do this. Please.”

(He knew, didn’t he?)

There was no acknowledgment of that. “I’m sending you to the border. It was nice meeting you ma’am.”

(He knows, doesn’t he?)

“Dream-”

Before she can utter another syllable, she finds herself back on some plains she remembers running on a while back. She still has her horse at least.

As tears blur her vision, she gets herself back on her horse for the long ride home.

She still watches the forest get smaller and smaller behind her as she rides off.

(He knows. He has to.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dream returns to a small lab later. A small, shadowy creature lies on the floor, holding a hand to apply pressure to the wound on her abdomen. The golden blood has long since started to pool below her. She has a cloudy look in her eyes as she stares at the wall. 

(She can’t really process what’s happening anymore. But she did just come back from what was basically hell, so it was understandable)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Months later, Ms. Beatrice gets a letter.

It’s from Nexus.

The letters are shakier than she remembers. Nexus speaks of having gone through something they’d prefer not to go into detail about. Ms. Beatrice doesn’t mind.

Nex will talk about it when she’s ready.

[daandyli0n]

shadows and gold

summary: Nexus isn’t entirely sure how her life went downhill so fast. 

All she knows, and really cares about, is that her life is finally looking up again. 

And they hope that neither of Them are going to come and ruin it again.

(or, dsmp sona angst, anyone?)

here ya go, @northern-loner!

some things to note about nexus:

- she/her and they/them

- they’re around 13 in this fic, and turned 14 a few weeks later. currently, they’re 15.

- they’re 5’7”

- her species isn’t exactly…known, so to speak. she’s some sort of shadow creature that is Very distantly related to endermen (she can teleport, but only when she’s really, Really emotional (like, we’re talking she’d literally have to be terrified to teleport), and she can only teleport short distances, and, while she doesn’t get hurt much from water, it still feels very uncomfortable against her skin)

- nexus can basically melt into shadows and hide in them.

- golden blood. because Yes.

- they are the local cryptid

- nexus speaks some odd mixture of Enchantment Language and Enderspeak (the language itself is referred to Ancient Enderspeak). their vocal chords aren’t entirely made for speaking any other languages (except maybe Modern Enderspeak and Piglin), so while they can understand Common, they can’t speak it without extreme difficulty. they mostly just communicate through gestures and writing in a book.

- you know how i said earlier that water kinda hurts her but mostly just feels uncomfortable? guess how dream and punz usually tried to kill her. go ahead and guess.

- died and was revived about 4-5 times. at least 3 of those times involved water.

- their limbo is the exact opposite of tommy’s: bright, loud, and overall overstimulating for them.

- they joined around the manberg era

- nexus was raised from age 6 by an older woman in the woods. she has no memory prior to this.

- the woman’s name was mrs. beatrice. nexus will typically still refer to her as such despite the fact that she’s practically her mother.

- nexus is basically feral. sure, they can Act civilized, and are typically pretty good at that, but, especially after their time in the laboratory, they aren’t…perfect at acting “normal.” most people don’t mind, usually.

- nex is basically a Very Weird Cryptid Cat.

warnings: mentioned torture, mentioned human experimentation (technically not human, but y’know), body horror (would having gold blood + the wounds that would come with that, and also being a weird shadow cryptid and having that sort of anatomy count as body horror?), blood and wounds, child death/murder (remember, nexus is 13 in this), nexus has a breakdown/panic attack, mentioned kidnapping and home invasion, and some repetition in some places. if i missed any, let me know!

alright! time for the fic! this sure is a way to introduce a character-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stumbled through the woods, simply hugging herself for warmth and comfort. Her t-shirt was horrifically ripped; the fact that she could even still wear it was a shock in itself. Her tail swatted around at everything behind her. Thank the Primes her paws made her steps quiet. She couldn’t take any chances. Not anymore.

She was free. Finally free.

They weren’t fully certain how any of this happened. One minute they were caring for their farm animals, enjoying their quiet life in the woods. The next? They were being dragged by two strange travelers(?) to some laboratory in the middle of nowhere.

They didn’t even do anything! They had simply opened the door and tried to ask the guys if they needed something: A break? Some food? Maybe some materials? 

Had..had she done something wrong…? Had she broken some unspoken social rule Players had, one that Mrs. Beatrice-her Mother-had forgotten to teach her? She had just wanted to help! What if they were tired?

Anyway, she barely remembered the events of the laboratory. It was all a blur. All she remembered was water, pain, fear, death, everything is just too bright, everything was just too much, too loud, too bright, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, make it stop, make it stop-

And then, in one of their frequent moments of panic, they were out. They disappeared into the shadows and spent the rest of their time hiding in the darkness. Apparently, the Masked Man-Dream, if Nex was remembering right-and the Guy in the White Hoodie-Punz, apparently-didn’t know that they could do that. 

Huh. She thought that they would’ve learned about that at some point during the experiments. She guessed not.

Eventually, the pair disappeared for several weeks. She decided to come out of hiding, deciding it was safe. It took her a little while to finally make her way out (hours? days? weeks?). So here she was:

Hungry. Alone. Defenseless. Afraid.

At some point, the woods ended and turned into a plains biome. They didn’t like this. Less trees meant less hiding spots. But they didn’t want to complain. They were tired. They just wanted to rest.

The place looked blown up as they walked around, looking for a place to finally just pass out. A bunch of creepers, maybe? There was also a bunch of random stuff around…a christmas tree, a mostly-burnt tent, some light posts…a bunch of bedrock spelling out…something. They didn’t really care too much at the moment. The oddest thing was a tall pillar with a crater directly underneath it. 

At this point, Nex was too tired to really keep searching. They finally collapsed in the crater. Okay, maybe they could rest for now…

_______________________________

They were awoken to the sound of the portal swirling. Someone was here.

She bolted up from her position. Someone was here.

Being careful to stay hidden, she stayed low but peaked from the crater. There was a voice. It…wasn’t one she recognized. A figure came into view. It was a sheep hybrid dressed in a pirate captain’s outfit.

It was odd. Nex had met only one sheep hybrid in their time here. And that was during their first few days. It was actually the reason why they chose to live so far from everyone…

…The Ram Man, who they had never gotten the name of, wasn’t very nice to them.

Maybe this hybrid was related to him?

But she didn’t get more time to really think about that, as the Sheep Pirate began sprinting towards the crater. Dashing into the shadows (and melting into them), Nex attempted to listen in on what the hybrid was saying.

They seemed to be talking about someone named Tommy and an exile. It…sounded like they were mourning? 

(The name sounded familiar. Wasn’t that the kid Dream kept bringing up? That was the one part of his conversations that Nexus had ever really heard him bring up constantly. All they really knew about this kid was that Dream really seemed to like bringing him up. Not that they really listened to what he was talking about. They were too tired for that.

Death sure took a lot of energy out of you…)

Eventually, the hybrid began to build some form of a memorial, supposedly for this “Tommy” guy. Nexus thought that now would probably be a good time for them to leave. They were intruding on something personal.

But, just as she tried to leave, the hybrid suddenly turned around and stared straight at her. And she froze. It was when they started trying to step towards her that she started to panic more.

Were they going to attack her? Had they also been looking for her? Were-were they going to drag her back there? She couldn’t go back! She couldn’t, she couldn’t, please no, please no, please no-

They nearly jumped out of their skin when the sheep hybrid lightly touched their arm. They were staring at Nex with concern, and upon seeing their panic simply muttered an apology, while they continued to check out their arm.

Nexus didn’t like looking at the scars that littered their body after…everything. And so, as a result, first aid wasn’t really a forethought. Besides, they really didn’t have anything to do first aid with. So, they had left the golden and shimmering wounds open and untreated.

Apparently, Sheep Pirate had found that concerning. Not that Nex could really blame them.

“Uh..are-are you okay? These look like-how are you not dead? How are these not infected?!” the Sheep Pirate asked.

The act of the Sheep Pirate grabbing onto some of the more open wounds made Nexus wince. She tried not to show too much discomfort as they (she?) kept poking around her other injuries.

“How-how did you even get here?” the Sheep Pirate questioned.

Nexus blinked up at her(?). “⟟-⟟'⋔ ⋏⍜⏁ ⏁⍜⍜ ⌇⎍⍀⟒ ⋔⊬⌇⟒⌰⎎...” (‘I-I'm not too sure myself...’).

Sheep Pirate just stared at them, having clearly not understood what they said. Oh right, not everyone understood Ancient Enderspeak. Made sense. 

“Uh…what’s your name…?”

“⋏⟒⌖⎍⌇” (‘Nexus’).

She sighed, pulling out an empty journal and handing it to Nexus. “Could you write it down for me?”

And so she did. She held up the page with her name (and a question) written out:

“Nexus. And what is yours?”

Sheep Pirate cleared her throat. “I’m Puffy. Nice to meet you.”

As she helped Nexus up, she muttered something about “getting them some medical attention” while dragging them towards the portal. Puffy dragged them back to the “main area” of the server and to a building (her house, maybe?). It was there the pirate tried to treat their wounds (apparently, the fact that none of the wounds were infected was a “miracle”), and by the end of it, they were practically covered in bandages. Puffy lent them a sweater, but said they could keep it. She even offered to help them find their house and their stuff. 

(Nex was honestly considering moving to be closer to here. They couldn’t stand being lonely anymore.)

But first the pair took a tour around the server. The place was pretty beautiful even if it was just covered in craters in multiple places. But that was fine. Nexus could handle that.

(And if the pair ran into the Eggpire in the middle of their tour, and Nexus was hiding behind Puffy? Well, they were already incredibly anxious to begin with, as well as injured. She didn’t pay much attention to it.

Nobody (except for one person) noticed that Nex kept staring one member from the Eggpire down.

And nobody really noticed that said person was also looking right back at them.

Puffy tried to ignore the fact that Nexus would hide behind her when Punz showed up.

She thought it was just because of the Eggpire.)

_______________________________________________

hope y’all enjoy this! poor nex, she really needs a break-

[daandyli0n]

unfinished christmas fic summaries: part 1

well, i wasn’t able to finish the three christmas fics i had planned, so as a substitute until my writer’s block leaves, i’m just going to post the summaries of the fics for now

these are all fics for the Trampled Dandelions au, and they go over how some characters celebrated the minecraft christmas equivalent: Life’s Winter Blessing, aka Winter’s Blessing.

the first fic i will be summarizing is titled

“i’ll be home for christmas”

(warnings: mentioned suicide, grief, religious subjects and imagery, and just some general angst)

here we go:

-fic starts out with td!tubbo being woken up by td!ranboo. the pair exchanges gifts: tubbo giving ranboo a hand-made bracelet, ranboo giving tubbo some pink tulips

-tubbo is still not taking tommy’s “death” well, but he’s doing better

-tubbo gives some other people gifts: quackity gets an eyepatch, niki gets some new baking gear, fundy gets a yellow scarf, and jack got some gloves

-we get some...hints that td!beeduo have feels for each other

-tubbo and ranboo go to Church Prime to pray to Vivienne (goddess of life). tubbo simply tells her the usual stuff; thanks for my life, thanks for letting me and my loved ones live this long, etc. however, he sends an extra prayer to the goddess of death saying “please look after tommy and wil, wherever they are now.” 

-keep in mind, tommy’s not dead, but tubbo doesn’t know that

-tubbo and ranboo leave to go to tommy’s house (cause they know he left tubbo’s gift there), but not before ranboo notices an odd looking crow: bigger than normal, and with a skull shape on it’s chest. actually, that might be a raven... ranboo writes it off as simply being one of phil’s crows and follows behind tubbo soon after. hmm...i wonder what’s so special about that raven...

-tubbo and ranboo find tommy’s gift. there’s a letter attached, but tubbo doesn’t read it yet. upon opening it, tubbo finds a face mask (see this fanart as a reference) and goes quiet. he decides to read the letter

-tommy’s letter, to summarize, wishes tubbo a Merry Winter’s Blessing, says that tubbo is one of the best people he knows, that tommy has noticed that tubbo is a bit self conscious about his face scar, that he made the gift so that tubbo could hide his face if he wanted, and that the letter was only if he got exiled (because tommy was originally confident that he wouldn’t get exiled). tommy tells tubbo that he’ll miss him, and that if he didn’t get exiled then tubbo was to get rid of the letter

-tubbo starts to cry a little bit. yeah, that emotional wound got reopened...

-the fic ends with tubbo starting to wear the mask. the fic ends with saying that, while the gift might not look like a lot, it clearly means a lot to tubbo. and that’s good enough

-after all, it’s basically all tubbo really has left of tommy at this point...

and there’s the end of part one! the other parts will come later!

[daandyli0n]

Shut Eye, Act One: Uneven Footing

chapter three: an eye for an eye

you guys are about to find out why i haven’t drawn Hickory’s Act One design yet :]

here comes the angst boys!!

@northern-loner

(warnings: eye injury, violence, a bit of gore)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a week. The “pranks” didn’t stop.

And Hickory had approached his breaking point.

So when Signal and Coyote finally showed up to the cabin, Hickey decided that today was the day he had finally had enough.

“Slate? Vex? Could you two go and play in the woods?”

While Vex looked up with anxiety written on her face, Slate looked up with joy. “Of course we can! Any reason-”

“And could you take Elliott with you?”

Slate’s smile dropped, and he turned to glance at Vex. “Yeah…we can do that.”

Hickory squatted down and handed the tiny infant to Slate. “Be careful, will you?”

Vex nodded. “We will. Please be safe too.”

As the three young children made their way to the back entrance of the cabin, Hickory took a deep breath, grabbed a few splash potions, and walked to the door.

With a sigh, the door opened, and he stepped out to confront his visitors.

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

Soft, running footsteps echoed through the forest.

They had to have been running for about seven minutes.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Vexen questioned.

“Of course he is! He-he has to be.” Slate stammered out.

He was trying to hold his tears back. He didn’t know what he’d do if Hickory wasn’t okay. Hickory had practically been his whole life along with Vex. But Vex had come later, when he had been two. For Slate, Hickory was, like, 75% of his life! 

What would happen if he lost that 75%?

Vex could tell he wasn’t doing too well. “Hey, it’s Ory! I’m sure, okay or not, we’ll see him again, alright?”

Slate sniffled. “Ye-yeah…”

The pair kept running through the woods. They didn’t fully remember the way to the main area, and Vex was starting to get worried that they were lost.

“Are you sure we’re still heading to the main area?”

“I-we have to be! I remember going this way for the tours!”

“But we’ve been in the woods for, what, hours now? And we still haven’t seen anyone, Slate!”

“We have to be getting close, at least-!”

They heard footsteps approaching. They swung their heads to the sound, seeing a rather tall figure emerge from the trees.

He looked to be a wolf hybrid, but…different. He had a skull mask on his face, long, dark brown hair, and the eyes were glowing bright blue rings. He was wearing a black tank top and some cargo pants. He had a skull necklace.

He was looking down at them. “Uh, are you…three okay?”

Slate stood, looking up at this stranger in wonder. Vex quietly spoke up, “Um, our brother said for us to go to the main area of the server because something dangerous was happening. But I think we might be lost.”

“Ah, I see. Well, my house is in the main area of the server, so if you’d like me to walk you over to the main area, then I won’t mind at all.”

Vex looked at Slate, who was eagerly nodding. “Okay…”

The Stranger introduced himself, “My name is Cerberus, by the way.”

Slate cocked his head. “Cer-bus?”

“Cerberus.”

“Ce-brus?”

He laughed. “You know what? Call me CB.”

As they were walking, Vex piped up, “Are you sure you’re not a murderer who wants to kill us?”

The stranger laughed. “No, no, I’d never hurt some little kids. You’re both too sweet for me to wanna kill either of you. Nope, just a lonely Hellhound going through life.”

Vex looked up in confusion. “Hellhound? What is that?”

Slate, however, gasped. “You work for Lady Death?!”

Cerberus chuckled. “Not anymore, unfortunately. ‘Retired’ is a pretty close term to what happened.”

Slate began chatting with him, holding up Elliot for the man to hold the baby. Vex followed pretty close behind. She glanced behind her, nervous.

She really hoped that Hickory would be okay.

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

Hickory strode across the yard. “Hello gentlemen.”

Signal and Coyote looked up to the approaching sheep. They both almost looked as though they were expecting him to show up.

“Ah, Hickory! Pleasure to see you this morning!” Signal called over to him. Coyote kept his eyes trained on him. He didn’t speak. “Surprised that you’re up this early in the morning.”

“Well, you know how it is. Gotta make sure all the animals are still here and such. Can’t be too careful after…y’know.”

Coyote huffed. “You’re really never going to let that go are you? Look, we haven’t done it since that day in the woods. You act like we’re just gonna do that again all of a sudden after, like, a week.”

Hickory shrugged. “You never know, right?”

The silence between the three was deafening. The chirps of birds, the rustling leaves, and just general nature were the only sounds that could be heard. And, if you listened close enough, the sound of Hickory’s heartbeat quickening. The suspense was growing. He didn’t just want to act out of nowhere. He had a point he wanted to make. Only this time, he wouldn’t just be verbally delivering his message.

It was like a figure from urban legend had once said.

Sometimes violence is the only universal language.

Signal finally broke the silence. “Where are the little lambs at? Still in bed, I assume?” He was glancing at the window.

Hickory narrowed his eyes at him. “None of your business.”

Coyote stared at the window as well. “So are they in there or not?”

“What part of “none of your business” did you two not understand?”

Signal turned back to him. “We have a feeling that you wish to speak with us. Is that true?”

…well, he wasn’t expecting this. He thought that this conversation would’ve gone on a bit further. But y’know what? This worked.

“Actually, I do. I have something I want to say to the two of you.” He pulled one of the splash potions of harming out.

“And maybe it’ll actually stick this time.”

He threw the bottle at the two people outside of the fence. Coyote jumped back, but Signal was caught in the splash. The two of them looked at him in shock.

Hickory stepped closer to them, another potion in hand. “Just because you,” he gestured to Signal, “are this server’s admin, that doesn’t mean I have to have an ounce of respect for you!”

He turned his glare to Coyote. “Same for you.”

Signal simply looked at him, blinking, before turning to Coyote and saying in a voice that was surprisingly non-robotic, “Coyote, if you will.”

The next thing Hickory knew, not only was Coyote rushing at him with an ax, but he also felt pain.

A lot of pain.

In his right eye, specifically.

Out of reflex, Hickory struck Coyote with a splash potion, only hearing a yelp as Coyote scrambled backward. He heard a growl, but then heard Signal call out, “Come on, Coyote. It isn’t worth it. Let’s go.” They were walking away now. Leaving Hickory bleeding out on the ground.

In his haze of pain and general adrenaline, he managed to stumble to his bathroom and look in the mirror.

And what he saw scared him.

There was a gash on his eye. A bad one.

But that wasn’t really the thing that concerned him at the moment.

He needed to find the others.

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

When he finally managed to make it to the main area of the server, he saw Slate and Vexen sitting on the ground with…a wolf guy in a skull mask?

He struggled to stay upright as he walked over to them, and as soon as he got close, the wolf guy looked up at him. But his face suddenly shifted into one of extreme concern. “Oh my Primes- are you alright?!”

Slate and Vex suddenly looked up, and Slate beamed. “Hickory! CB, that’s him! That’s our brother!”

This wolf man, CB, looked even more concerned somehow. “I’m-how did that even-you need to see a doctor man!”

Hickory didn’t know why but he felt…fine. Nothing hurt anymore, and if it weren’t for the blood that was practically pouring down his face, he wouldn’t even know that something was wrong. “Really? I feel okay. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to-”

“No no, that looks…very bad. I’ll take you to Basil’s office. You really need to go there. Seriously.”

He felt someone grab onto his right side and flinched (why couldn’t he tell that someone was there?). He felt someone drag him off.

“Hickory?” he heard Slate quietly call. 

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

It was three days later, and Hickory was sewing something. He had been in that office for about a day, where “Basil”, who he was assuming was either a naga or some kind of snake hybrid. They kept him there as they tried to heal him, and even bandaged up that side of his face.

Apparently his right eye was f**ked up. Great.

And the “wolf” guy was actually a hellhound. Named Cerberus.

Well, he seemed pretty nice, anyway.

Hickory had asked for an eyepatch. Because he was pretty sure that no one was going to want to see his messed up eye.

He was stitching an apple onto it.

When Slate had asked him why he was sewing an apple, Hickory just shrugged.

“I mean, then we can really match, right?”

As he finished the last stitch, he put on the eyepatch and looked in the mirror. He smiled.

It looked nice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

poor boy Hickory :( he was just trying to get those two to stop messing with them and got his eye whacked in the process :(

but hey! at least he has a cool eyepatch now...right? :D

[daandyli0n]

ladies and gentlemen! boys and girls! everyone in-between, neither at all, or something else entirely! welcome to The Clown Circus™ (my blog)!

hello everyone! just your local clown sheep lol

just a few things about me!

-you can call me Dandy, Kasper, Cassidy, and p0psy!

-19!! (still Don’t Be Weird please)

-Genderqueer (cause trust me: That Gender Sure Is Queer)

-pronouns are She/They/He/It/Xe along with A Frick Ton Of Neos

-Aceflux and Unlabeled (romantic attraction wise)

-into Fnaf, especially the Rewrite i've created for it :] i occasionally reblog and talk about the dsmp, though (it was one of my biggest hyperfixations, and i still love the characters)

-i’m a twitch streamer! weekends and days i’m out of school, starting from 6:20-7:30 typically. i will not, however, stream on wednesday nights

-i’ve also got a general...circus aesthetic to me. bright colors, clowns and all that.

-ahem. (mine)sona lore :] (obviously the pronouns have been...expanded. my sona uses the same pronouns as me)

-i'm a fictionkin and otherkin/therian :]

-i write and draw occasionally (see my “p0psy storytime,” “Dandy’s Writing,” and “my art” tags)

-i upload my vods onto my Youtube channel

-my ao3 :]

- current pfp is from @/freddyfazbears-kinhelp! (not tagging them just in case) thanks man!! it's kin related :]

-@that-darn-clown is not just one of my mutuals on here, but they’re actually my irl bestie! :D

now. onto my boundaries:

-I Do Not Support cc!Dream or The Dream Team!! If You Do, Please Fuck Off!! (i do still discuss the characters, just be mindful that i'm not a c!Dream apologist either)

edit: this also applies to Wilbur and his supporters.

-i honestly don’t mind any art or stories written of my sona in them! in fact, i’d love it if you did that!

-that being said, i will not tolerate any nsfw of me/my sona. besides, my sona is basically an animated plushie, so...

-i will not swear on my streams. i might swear on here, but i will not on my streams

-my family watches my streams. my family...isn’t exactly accepting of the lgbtq+ community. due to this, i will kindly ask y’all to not bring up my gender or sexuality stuff on stream and to strictly use she/her for me in my chat. it’s fine if y’all talk about your own lgbtq+ stuff in chat, just not mine. i would like to still have a positive relationship with my family, thanks

-if you want me to tag a specific trigger, then i’ll do it, but you’ve gotta tell me that. typically, i do not tag triggers, and will instead put warnings at the top of my posts for writing, art, or headcanons. for regular posts that i just reblog and didn’t create, i, again, don’t tag. if you ask me to tag a thing, then i will tag for it in a heartbeat.

that’s all for now folks! enjoy your stay!

Welcome To The Clown Circus, Boys!