#poisonousAchilles

[infinitethree]

Lee awkwardly sits at one end of the large, round table in the dead center of the room. The five people who have kept a frankly absurd secret from everyone else are crowded on the other end.

“So let me summarize this,” he says, hands pressed together in front of his mouth. “The Swords and Shields were never Aster’s idea, but Daz’s. Daz is actually kind of an asshole–”

Aster opens his mouth, but Lee shoots him a glare that makes him shut it and slide down in his seat.

“--which functionally means that Aster was right to be worried about him at the start. Aleph and Khons got roped into…this, for reasons I still don’t really get. And Raine just– was traumatized and triggered by me being near Dee and Theo, and him trying to protect me from them made him an ideal candidate for the secret cabal at the core of not just the Swords and Shields, but the safety of the entire server.”

Daz studies him for a long moment, and then nods.

Closing his eyes and taking a long, deep breath, Lee lets that soak in for a long moment.

His initial vibe that Aster and Daz would be close had been something that never seemed to fully manifest. It’s been a nagging worry, because Aster’s awkward standoffishness had made Lee sure that he was just wrong about that.

And if he was wrong about that, then what else might he be wrong about? Did it misinterpret the vibes, or were the vibes simply giving him wrong clues?

But he had been right, and more right than he could have fathomed.

In a way, he feels humbled by the revelation of such a massive secret. The five of them have done…Prime only knew how much work behind the scenes, making sure the server remained safe.

Hell– he knows Aster treasures his friendship with Theo. From the way he’s watching Lee, with fear and guilt and tensed like he’s expecting some sort of punishment…this has been a heavy burden for him to bear.

At the same time, though? He feels so very, very small.

What makes him so special? What makes so many people take up his banner, when he already has so many others who are dedicated to helping him?

Aster alone is so much more than he needs. Hell– his family is overprotective as it is!

…In their own, weird way.

But having four more secret Asters, one of whom is actually some sort of freaky expert actor, all entirely devoted to the cause of him?

He doesn’t understand.

At the same time, though…it’s not just him they’re helping. Even if the core of their goal is to make sure he never gets hurt, they do that by maintaining the peace of the sever.

Not through force, but through defusing situations and putting out fires that might otherwise get out of hand.

Ultimately, then, he can’t be mad. A part of him can’t help but be a little hurt that it’s been a secret for so long, but…really, it’s not that awful of a thing.

Lee isn’t a stranger to the idea of operational security. The more people who know, the less effectively they can do their work.

“Okay,” he finally says, opening his eyes. 

He straightens up in his stool– chosen so that he doesn’t have to bother with his wings and one of the regular chairs– and studies them.

“I’m a little hurt that you all lied to me. But it was for a good cause…and, really, it was for everyone.”

Daz smiles at him, full of so much relief and warmth that he finds himself smiling back. The others are smiling too, clearly glad that he’s not too pissed off about their…everything.

He continues, “But there’s a reason you told me this now, right?”

A jarringly serious expression falls over Daz’s face. “Have you heard about the entity that’s been talking to a few people? Your dad and Theo definitely heard them.”

Lee nods, grimacing. The two of them had been…upset, to put it mildly.

Taking a deep breath, Daz says, “Their name is the Scribe, and we made some deals with them. Multiple deals, actually.”

“For what?” “To keep our secrecy, and…a few other things. The Observers like me, apparently,” Daz tells him.

From his expression, he’s not happy about that fact.

Lee presses, “Things like…?” “When one of us gets a question, the others can hear if they’re nearby. We also can tell when we’re being watched.”

A shudder goes down Lee’s spine. That’s definitely useful to have.

“And we’re being watched right now,” Aster says, brow subtly creased.

Well, shit! That’s not something he really wants to have happen.

With a sigh, Daz continues, “And…if you’re nearby, and get a question, we can hear it too.”

It sounds a hell of a lot like the Council gets special treatment. But Daz had said deal, meaning a price was paid.

He looks at the evident ringleader and asks, “What did you give up for that?”

A laugh, tired and slightly bitter escapes Daz. “We’re required to answer. I…had to do something that I can’t really explain.”

Quietly, Raine rests his hand on Daz’s shoulder. It’s subtly leaned into, like he needs the support.

“And because the Scribe is talking to others, you’re worried?” “Mhm. The Observers are getting more active, too– and thus more dangerous.”

For a moment, Daz seems to hesitate. Then he takes another deep breath and tells him, “And the Scribe told me to make things interesting. If I didn’t, they’d find someone else to entertain them. This…is something that always would have happened. I really would have rather it waited until you were older, but–”

“But your hand was forced,” Lee supplies. Daz nods in agreement.

That’s definitely not a scenario that Lee is interested in happening. This Scribe entity is clearly powerful, and might even be the source of the Observers.

Or…at least, linked to them.

Raine finally speaks up again, but he’s not looking at Lee. He’s looking at Daz, looking worried. “I think you need to explain what actually happened, how you got here.”

Oh? There’s a secret to Daz’s past?

Actually, that makes perfect sense. You don’t just become like this overnight.

Another bitter laugh escapes Daz. “Fuck…yeah. With everything that’s gonna– there’s no point in hiding it from you.”

Lee watches him withdraw a butterfly knife. It had been a gift from Theo, made by Dee; the shimmering, rainbow-tinted knife is something Daz uses on occasion for various tasks. He always unfolds it carefully, cautiously, evidently unused to properly wielding it–

The other four scoot their chairs away from him a little, and Daz begins spinning the knife. It dances over his fingers like a magic trick; like it was always meant to be there.

“I willingly joined hands with my Dream in Pogtopia. I swore to do anything for him, if he helped reclaim L’manburg from Schlatt,” Daz begins.

So all the horrible shit he went through was because of that deal? Fuck, no wonder he’s so messed up about being a good, useful person.

Voice almost hypnotic, Daz continues, “The price that Dream asked was to be my mentor. Unbeknownst to me, I had the rare, precious spark that would allow me to become an admin. He was terrified of being alone, abandoned by others who weren’t trapped in the prison he’d made for himself. I was what he had prayed and longed for; a true companion, someone who was capable of standing at his side. Not as his student, but as his equal.”

Lee swallows. He’s not an idiot; he can hear the resentment and bitterness lurking underneath those words.

He also remembers what Daz was like, when he first got here. That’s not something you do to someone you care about.

“When he told me what I was, what I could become…it was everything I had ever dreamed of. Wilbur had nearly killed me, taken one of Tubbo’s lives, and left the server with a real bang. L’manburg was exploded mere moments after he left with Techno. I had nothing but Tubbo, and Dream had saved me. He rescued me from my final death, and he bared his throat to beg for the chance to teach me.” Daz takes another deep breath.

“So I accepted. And…it was good. For a long time, it was nearly perfect. I hid that I could be an admin, but the two of us were able to do our work, do our training, far from the rest of the server. You should look at the coords.”

Curious, Lee does as he was asked.

Holy fucking shit, they’re so far out. It’d take days to get back to the central area from the overworld.

“What the fuck,” he breathes, and Daz grins at him. “I knew this area, so I figured I might as well make use of it.”

“But what about San? You can’t get this far without them knowing–” “I have my ways,” Daz tells him, eyes sparkling a little. “They’re a little weird, though. I’ll explain it later– this’ll be a rabbit hole, otherwise.”

Huffing a bit about not getting the answer right away, Lee settles back in his seat to listen to the story.

Daz’s knife– Bismuth, if he remembers correctly, named for an oddly-shaped stone that has a similarly rainbow tint– is still dancing flawlessly across his hands. Actually, it’s turning into tricks.

He might be showing off a little. Lee isn’t sure if that’s a vibe or just a hunch, though.

“So we were pretty safe from being found out. And in our base, I was able to learn quickly, easily, and without fear of someone seeing something they shouldn’t. I grew quickly, because I wanted to be worth the effort.” Brow furrowing, Daz emphasizes, “I wanted, desperately, to be good enough to stand at his side. He’d become…” the words falter for a moment, and the knife suddenly slips from Daz’s hands.

Idly, he brings his nicked finger to his mouth for a moment before he says, softly, “He was my brother.”

This is clearly, blatantly, something that was deeply traumatic for Daz. It was so horrible that he buried everything about who he really was, only letting it out in places that are in his complete control.

“What happened?”

The question makes Daz’s eyes flick down to the knife. “...Eret and Connor were killed for the third time in a surprise attack. In hindsight, I think it was Karl, but I’m not sure. Tensions that had been rising between us and New L’manburg–”

“So you weren’t close with Tubbo?” “Ah. No…no, Tubbo was my best friend. I would have died for him. But he was president; Quackity was. We never had a war, never had any reason to justify expelling the existing chain of command. Schlatt and Wilbur were banned, and Quackity was the VP. So, he got a promotion,” Daz clarified.

That’s a surprise. A memory wiggles at the back of his mind, and then suddenly pops out. “Wait, didn’t you say he tried to kill you–?���

“Yep. Using Eret and Connor as an excuse to act and information about their deaths as bait, they lured me out. I got trapped in a one-block cage while Quackity, Niki, and Fundy rained poison and instant health pots down on me. Fun fact– splash pots soak into fabric if you use enough of them. Especially gags.”

Prime, that’s terrifying. “And– that’s just torture. Why would they do that?”

Daz sighs. “Nobody knew admins were tied to the server. Nobody but me, Dream, Sapnap, and George. And…George had left. It caused some problems. Quackity assumed that if he could kill Dream and kill me, then he’d be able to take over the server.”

Ah. That…tracks, upsettingly enough.

Despite others’ best efforts to shield in, he’s not unaware of the way things went for the timeline that they can never touch. The base timeline, the blueprint.

Power and greed are good motivators, and Quackities often chase them to a horrifying extent.

“Dream got me out, but it was close. The magic…would have been lethal. He spent all night with me cradled in his arms, watching my code in the hope that if things got worse, he could fix it.”

Lee frowns. “So…you were still on good terms, then.” “Mhm. And then he wanted to kill everyone. I refused to let him touch Tubbo, and…and, well. He always did have terrible taste.”

Before he can ask what that means, Daz explains, “He chose blackstone bricks for the floor of our base. The base he left less and less; the base that held the only person who understood him. It wasn’t until I came here that I even considered it could be a problem.”

“But– wouldn’t he have noticed the server getting quieter?” “Our servers weren’t sapient; no barrier between admins and whatever information they wanted. He was always so fucking stupid about using those skills, though. Always wanted to believe the best in others. And in the end, the sudden stress of nearly losing me made him snap. He took the project we’d been working on, retrofitted loyalty into it, and shoved it in my code.”

Daz’s voice is uncomfortably calm as he says, “Every order felt like my soul was being atomized. I knew it would kill me, eventually. And…after he made me kill Tubbo, I stopped resisting that idea.”

His breath escapes in a horrified rush.

Gods, he can’t even imagine. He knows Tommys– knows that, at their core, a single shining truth remains crystal clear.

Tommys are loyal. They are loyal to the death.

“I frayed at his already waning sanity, forcing him to layer order after order on. Meanwhile, I had disabled all the alarms and laid a breadcrumb trail right to our door.”

His heart aches at the idea that someone he cares about was ever so low. “You wanted them to kill you, and the enchantment was a backup plan.”

Daz smiles a little sadly. “Yeah. I decided I would choose death over defeat. I made sure that no matter what, he would be left exactly as he always feared; alone, broken, and rotting in the ruins of his self-made prison.”

Suddenly, Daz’s tone shifts. “But then the T3 showed up. I was given a sudden, expected chance; I could walk away. It would be even worse than dying, to him. If I was dead, he would kill himself quicker. But…if I was alive, somewhere, with some small chance I might go back…?” An expectedly cruel smile twists across the usually-bubbly man’s lips.

“He would cling onto that hope. He would suffer in agony, in the vain hope that I might one day return to him.”

A shiver goes down his spine, and Daz’s expression shifts to a less distressing one.

Well! That was– that was pretty fucked up. Lee knows, and this time is aware it’s a vibe, that Daz hasn’t been honest in his therapy.

Great. Awesome. Someone who desperately needs actual therapy is instead the only person able to lie well enough to fool not just San but the entire server.

Daz takes the knife and puts it back into his inventory. “So, yeah. I was trained to be an admin, and that’s gonna be useful.”

He doesn’t follow. “Useful for…?”

“I asked Lucid to train me, too.”

Lee stands up, protesting, “Daz, you don’t need to–”

Calmly, Daz interrupts, “I do, though. It gives me the chance not just to monitor Lucid more closely, but to have access to a mod console. With a console, I can teach you better. I don’t want to be a full admin. The idea is kinda of my worst nightmare, actually! But a mod…a mod, I can handle. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.”

Goddamnit. He hates that it makes sense. “But you’re going to be actively triggering yourself constantly. I don’t like that.”

“Tough fucking luck. Life is cruel and unfair, and like or not, I’m going to make sure you never have to learn that lesson the hard way,” Daz tells him.

When he stands up, his posture is one that echoes people that Lee knows all too well.

Technoes, Dreams, Wilburs, even the few Schlatts that he’s seen.

Instinctively, Lee understands that Daz will not budge on this. No matter what Lee says or does, he’s made up his mind.

And, at his core, he still ultimately a Tommy. The other truth of Tommys is that are stupidly, infuriatingly, breathtakingly stubborn.

If a Tommy digs his heels in, it will take an unfathomable amount of force to drag him away.

He sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair. At his back, he can feel his wings fluttering anxiously.

Lee hates the idea of Daz living and breathing his trauma like he’s planned on doing. At the same time, though, he knows that it will be useful.

Fucking hell. This isn’t really what he thought Aster might be bringing him to face.

As he thinks that, he sees that same man stand hesitantly, awkwardly, just a step away from him. His hands hover and his muted emotions clearly convey that he desperately wants to hug him.

With a soft huff, he steps forward and hugs one of his closest companions.

Aster sighs in relief, wrapping his arms around him.

Something deep inside of him hums in satisfaction. Aster is one of his people, someone he trusts and treasures. He would do horrible, ugly things to keep this person safe– things that sometimes appear in his nightmares, things he doesn’t want to think about in the light of day.

“I know it’s…kind of a lot. And maybe worse because we’re not alone,” Daz tells him. He does sound apologetic, but is probably so for the wrong reasons.

“I told you he wouldn’t hate you,” Raine says, with a soft thump that indicates he lightly smacked his friend in some way. “Paranoid dumbass.”

Scoffing, Daz retorts, “Fuck you, you’re not the one who had to reveal you’re actually kind of a monster to the supernatural embodiment of sunshine and rainbows–”

Lee breaks from the hug to point at Daz, who seems surprised. “You’re not a monster.”

Daz blinks at him, seeming to consider something. Raine hisses, “Don’t you dare, save your weirder shit for another time!”

The Tommy snorts, and states, “Yeah, that’s probably better. But let’s say I disagree, and leave it at that.”

Eyes narrowing, Lee leans his weight across the table. He warns, “I’m going to fix you, so fucking help me.”

After a moment of surprise, Daz grins and leans forward as well. “Good luck, kid. My issues have issues. I’ve got a whole fucking magazine subscription kit in here.” “Good! Fine! If all of you think I’m so damn special, then I’ll make sure you’re getting your stupid money’s worth!”

Daz’s expression suddenly turns dark. “Don’t talk like that. You–”

Oh, wonderful job! Bravissimo; bravissimo! I was so fucking right to make you–

All of the Council members straighten up, but none become more severe than Daz. “Achilles, this is the Scribe.”

The unexpected, disembodied, and clearly powerful voice laughs, Hah, yeah, that’s definitely me, I'm the Scribe. They coo, Aww, you look so mad! And here I was, thinking you were up to snuff. 

Shoulders thrown back, Daz states calmly, “He is. In fact…” a slow smile spreads, like cracks across thin ice.

“In fact,” Daz repeats, “He’s so good, so worthy, that I think we should hold a vote.”

His eyes flick to the others. “All those in favor of making Lee an official member of the Council?”

Oh you clever little shit. I hate you so much right now, the Scribe says. Contrary to their words, though, they sound delighted.

The others nod their approval, and Daz’s smile grows. “And, Lee, do you accept this position?”

Clearly, there’s something more going on than is immediately obvious. This group, and especially Daz, are smart.

If they’re pushing for this, there’s a reason.

“Yeah,” he says, and can’t help but feel a little sting of pride when all of them perk up a little.

Daz claps his hands. “Excellent. With Lee’s induction into the Council, that makes this official business.” His hands spread wide, Daz laughs as he says, “Which means our audience needs to leave.”

[infinitethree]

Aster doesn’t flinch when he feels the familiar tingling at the back of his neck.

He’s not exactly thrilled they’ll have an audience for this, but…

Well. The Observers would find out, one way or another. There’s not much point in abandoning their plans– not when the gears are already in motion.

Fuck; he hates that he feels so much sympathy for Daz. The way his demeanor flipped back and forth between manic to dead as he told them he was going to ask to be trained as an admin was…

It was disturbing. Daz had decided to throw himself on this sword, face some of his darkest fears, because he was terrified of Lee ending up like him.

Every word and action– of which there weren’t a hell of a lot, granted– that Daz had said or done in regards to his original server, and of being capable of being an admin, indicated that he hated the idea of becoming what he had called a “true” admin.

The spark is useless if it’s not tapping into the server, Daz had said once, quite a while back. Worse than useless, sometimes. If I could trade it like Day did, nothing would make me happier. I’d rather die than use it, actually! I don’t ever want to become a full admin. I don’t want anyone to know I could become one. My spark, my capacity to be an admin…it’s been nothing but a curse.

Daz is good at lying. That’s just a fact– the bastard lies like the breathes and is both capable and willing to manipulate everyone around him into doing exactly what he wants.

But the vehemence and disgust he had shown over the idea of anyone outside their circle knowing about his ability to be an admin, about becoming a true admin…?

That was real. Aster knows it in his bones.

So the fact that Daz had that secret exposed, and furthermore, is now trying to be “taught” by Lucid and likely Day? That’s a big fucking deal. That’s a sacrifice of breathtaking proportions.

As is what they’re planning to do next.

Lee looks quizzically at the honey block in front of him. “...Is this the setup for a prank? Why can’t we take an elytra, or just walk to wherever you want me to go?”

They’re in the safe room in Aster’s house. Since they’re behind a veil of blackstone, whatever they do in here will remain a secret.

Aster’s mouth quirks upwards in a faint smile. “Not a prank. And because it’s important it’s hidden.”

He feels awful that they’re dragging Lee into this now, while he’s still so young. But…things are getting more dangerous. The Scribe has been increasingly active, to the point of threatening Daz. On top of that, the frequency and strangeness of the Observers’ interactions have spiked.

They need to do this now. Waiting any longer could make things even worse.

He ruffles Lee’s hair, making him laugh and stick his tongue out at him. “Alright, fine. I trust you.”

His sunshine smile makes Aster’s chest ache. He’s terrified that this will end in Lee hating him, resenting that he had such a massive secret for so long.

The idea of betraying the trust of the person he’s devoted his entire being to, who he has done so much to protect from any sort of hurt or harm…

But, as Daz had told them, delaying is too dangerous. The more Lee knows, the more Lee can protect himself.

If he’s aware of the true nature of their work, they might be looked at differently. Lee might resent or event hate them.

And if it ultimately keeps him safe, then that’s the burden they must bear.

Lee throws an ender pearl into the honey block. The sticky substance holds the thing in suspension, which lets Aster use one of the remotely-activated stasis chambers to go to where they need to go.

Aster swallows, picks up the block, and tells him, “I’ll see you in a second.”

He pushes the button on his com, and the familiar tug of being teleported takes control of him.

By now, though, he’s used to landing on his feet. He only hesitates a moment to place the honey block down and manually trigger it.

He catches Lee when he lands, knowing it can be tricky to get used to this style of stasis chamber. Lee usually just walks or flies, unless he really needs to get there quickly.

His charge looks at the area in surprise. “That’s a lot of stasis chambers,” he notes.

Aster winces, and goes to the ladder leading up. “C’mon, it’s– it’s better to see the rest of it. Explaining down here won’t help anyone.”

Entirely trusting, Lee climbs up right behind him.

At the top, the other four members of the Council stand in a loose semicircle. All of them look anxious, but none moreso than Daz.

Their eyes meet for just a moment, before Daz’s eyes flick over to Lee.

The bastard smiles softly, and holds out a hand. “Hey, kiddo. Welcome to the Council of the Star.”

[infinitethree]

Daz, Lucid, Day, and Lee are all sitting together in Lucid’s cabin.

It’s the easiest place for them to meet for this– Daz’s house comes with blackstone exposure, Day’s entire area is basically guaranteed to have interruptions, and everywhere else they have control over poses other challenges.

Sure, the cats are a bit of an annoyance, but that’s solved by releasing a chicken into the zoomies track.

Lucid had not been happy to learn that that little prank started with Daz.

“--no, if you do that, the stasis state will be triggered while Innit sleeps,” said admin huffs, like that’s obvious.

Day argues, “If the trigger is linked to–” “It’s an entire extra fucking headache, because the line is thin. The trigger needs to be respawn. An extra failsafe can be made for niche circumstances, but also, that can literally be as simple as a buddy system! Innit or I have to check in regularly, to make sure neither of us are in a fuckin’ coma.”

Daz rolls his eyes. “Given I’ll literally be married, it’s the easiest solution.”

Lucid frowns. “Okay, but when does that even happen?” “Relatively soon,” Daz answers, shrugging. The ascended admin sounds doubtful as he sighs, “Define relatively.”

Uhg, Prime forbid he be allowed to keep some mystique. “A year or so, max. Even before then, Aster is like– literally spending nights with me.”

There’s a little snort from Day. “I heard about that. Theo looked ready to get into my cooking wine.” “Given he watched Aster flirting with me– which he did to be an asshole–” “No, I’m pretty sure he was doing it because you started it?” “Fuck off, he was doing it to be a dick.”

Lucid looks lost. “When was–”

He cuts himself off, looking increasingly confused as he must be shown that night at the training hall. That’s pretty much a given with this sort of conversation, and why Daz doesn’t talk about things he doesn’t want Lucid to know where San can see.

“Magic burns?!”

That’s what he’s gonna focus on?

Daz makes a face. “Yeah? I was hammered with a shitload of potions in a very short timeframe. Splash potions can soak into fabric if enough are used. They taste awful, by the way! Even worse than normal poison.”

As he makes sarcastic jazz hands, Lee states, “He had your code open, ready to do whatever it took to yank you back from Death’s embrace.”

Bitterly, Daz replies, “Then he fucked it up by subjecting me to infinitely worse. Even if– if, he thought it would protect me…”

An ugly laugh echoing with years of a wound left to fester and rot escapes the hollow cavern of his chest. “The fact that I screamed from every order should have made him rethink it.”

“...Not that anything excuses it,” Lucid starts, slowly, though flinches at Daz’s glare, “but– soul erosion…it wears away your common sense. Your ability to– to think, to be rational. To empathize, I suspect.”

Sneering, Daz tells him, “No fuckin’ shit. We planned to do Doomsday, and he was going to slaughter the entire server. You drove a guy to the brink of suicide, among other things.”

Flatly, Lee reminds him, “Your views on suicide are uniquely fucked up, don’t throw that out so lightly.” Definitely an effort to defend his dad’s feelings, Lee doesn’t care about Lucid that much. Probably.

“I don’t appreciate apologism for the single fuckin’ worst–” “It’s not apologism. I hate him too– I’m glad you killed him! Just because it explains why doesn’t mean what he did was right. I still have nightmares about– shit, Daz, I thought your fake backstory was ugly enough. The real thing is worse,” Lucid states, tone grim.

He looked ready to pass out. Day was leaning more towards hurling.

Because he’s that kind of person, Daz laughs. “You just about passed out, and Day was two seconds from puking. Honestly? Kind of cathartic.”

“Still wanted to kill us, though,” Day notes.

He shrugs again. “Can you really blame me?” 

The immortal grimaces.“...Not really. My own betrayals were bad enough, but that…”

It takes him a moment to recall the conversation they had…it feels like a lifetime ago, but it wasn’t actually that far in the past.

There are a lot of ways an admin can feel betrayed, but the one he’s interested in a very specific kind of action.

Evidently, they’re taking a bit of a break, so he stretches out and asks, “So, not to be too nosy, but– I’m curious. The fuck happened with that tattoo that got covered up?”

He nods to Lucid, who seems confused. “He’s not on too shitty terms with them, after all. What was the difference?”

When Day doesn’t immediately answer, he points out, “You know my trauma, shouldn’t turnabout be fair play?”

The immortal sighs, long and tired. “...When I was at spawn, at the very end. Styll was there, with Time– with the Scribe, I guess– speaking through him. It was raining. Smoke saw us. In a flash of thunder, I saw his arm.”

Ah. Daz is familiar with the tattoo on Sapnap Prime’s arm. He hadn’t given it too much thought, but knowing that that was Day and Lucid’s claim on him…

“Headband and goggles. Those were what my Dream used. One was thrown back at him for refusing to reject me,” he tells them. Might as well give him that.

Lee murmurs, “You wove the ribbon to mend the gaping wound his loss left.” “I did,” Daz confirms.

There’s a long, pregnant pause. His student stares at him. “...That’s why you don’t consider anything you’ve given so far to be real claims, isn’t it? You didn’t make them. At best, you designed them.”

He reaches out and taps the brooch on Lee’s shirt. “Yep. Otherwise, you’d be claimed already.”

Lee looks down at it, brow furrowing. “...You designed this?”

It’s kind of nice to be able to tell him that. He answers, “More or less. The ear cuffs were my idea, too.”

Unexpectedly, Lee surges forward. “Show me the one you have!” “I– what? You can see it–” “No, no, not that one,” Lee huffs at him, “The real one!”

He blinks several times, and then breaks into laughter.

“Real one?” The question from Day makes Lee huff. “Daz was the whole reason the Swords and Shields exist! The cuffs were his idea, so–”

The child points to the one he’s currently wearing. “Do you really think he’d have such a new one? I don’t even need vibes to know that much!”

Daz uses his console to remotely open his ender chest, into the contents of a shulker box, and withdraws the little box he keeps the cuff in.

He flips it open, showing it to Lee. “Satisfied?” “What number is it?” “First shield, second overall. Aster’s is the very first, obviously. Aleph and Khons have three and four. Raine has five– though, obviously, he wears a newer one like me. There’s a sixth, but it’s not used. We kept a sword and a shield in reserve for whoever wound up being our fifth.”

He traces the shape of the charm. “Those first six were the prototypes. After that, a mould was made. So…we all have ones that were hand-forged– the only ones like that. I felt like that carried too much meaning to pass up.”

Taking off the one he usually wears, he places them side by side. “See? You can tell elements shifted and were refined.”

They all stare at it.

Quietly, Day murmurs, “Every time I think I’ve wrapped my head around how insane you are…you reveal something new.” “And you’re aware all over again why Aster couldn’t rat me out, hmm?” “Yeah. Even if we have disagreements on some things…”

Day sighs, wings rustling a little. “I mean– I question the amount of it that’s for Lee, versus that just being an excuse to not deal with your shit.” “Definitely not zero,” Lee mutters.

I wish it was zero, Innit grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah, you still resent the literal child, get over yourself,” Daz scoffs.

I think I’ve earned my resentment. “I think you should stop being a fuckin’ pussy and hate the right person, actually!” You wildly underestimate how much I hate you, too. “Oh, trust me, I know you hate me.”

Bitch. “Fuck you right back.” I’m going to kill you at least once. “Good fuckin’ luck, you’ll have to get used to walking before you can come for my throat!” Watch your Prime-damned back, asshole. “Likewise. Good luck explaining why you stabbed me to the rest of the server,” Daz sneers.

“That’s still really concerning,” Lucid says, grimacing. “Don’t like you fighting your admin half.”

“Don’t like our pow-wow being observed, but there’s nothing to be done about either,” Daz retorts.

Day grimaces. “Why didn’t you say something?” “Why bother? They come and go as they please. Recently they don’t even say anything, so–”

Of course he has to be proven wrong.

Annoyed, he says, “I just know pity when I see it. Sometimes niceness is pity, sometimes it’s not. Sometimes concern is pity, sometimes it’s not.”

Day leans forward. “How do you know?”

Rolling his eyes, he says, “Because I know how to read everyone. You’re an extremely shitty liar, for the record.”

“Excuse me?” “You struggle to maintain the correct expression and your eyes are a dead giveaway anyway.”

The immortal looks offended, but Daz flips his false persona on. “Plus, like– you totally don’t modulate your tone or phrasing! I’m still kinda shocked nobody clocked your whole like, deal, even before you were forced to tell everyone!”

Day’s eyes thin. “Don’t think I’m not aware what you’re trying to do.” “Gosh, you make it sound like I’m doing something sinister!”

Keeping his tone bubbly, he makes his expression a tonally dissonant, teeth-baring threat display masquerading as a grin.

“Maybe you shouldn’t, like, poke a volatile person when they’re already on edge! It’s kinda like– a super obvious thing, you know? Sorta just common sense!”

Day levels him with a look. “Your caustic personality and violently cynical worldview do wonders to explain why you avoid letting people close, but try to remember that I’m not your enemy. I can be, if you really want. You sure you want that?” 

He reverses his acting; sneering tone, saccharine mask. “You sure you want to threaten me, DayDream? ‘Cause I guarantee you won’t win a war of attrition. My methods are outside your expertise. Can’t fuckin’ hit me to end it, you’d have to fight socially.”

Daz laughs, blatantly mocking. “And, gosh, I wonder who has better connections, better friendships– better ability to persuade, rather than intimidate?”

Lee physically gets between them. “Daz, knock it off. Dad…try not to let him get under your skin.”

“Hah,” Daz scoffs, flipping his masks off. Face and voice normal, he mutters, “As if anyone, especially him, can manage that.”

Day glares at him, wings poofed up in anger.

Good. He hates when people try to dig into his head, and even more when they try to threaten him.

Unlike most people on the server, he’s not afraid of DayDream. Wary, sure, but scared?

Fuck no. The man would be easy to take down in whatever ways Daz saw fit to do so. Sure, there would be consequences, but he’s still capable of that.

Lucid, who has tried to stay out of a pissing contest between the two people he least wants to upset on the whole damn server, jumps at the answer to a question he had asked several nights ago.

Yeah, you know what, that’s probably a good enough distraction from that whole…ordeal.

“Innit, Vio, and me are your favorites? That’s…huh. I guess I’m only more interested in meeting Innit, then,” Lucid says, loudly enough to ensure the others don’t have a choice but to catch it.

Daz makes a face. “That one– fuckin’ Asher?” “You know their name?” “Yes. Innit told me,” Daz huffs.

There’s a pause, and then he rolls his eyes. “Because Aster asked, yes, I’m aware you’re simping for him.” Another pause. “Then what the fuck am I supposed to call it, huh? You whine when I say anything negative.”

Daz glares at a wall. “Don’t twist my fuckin’ words. Just because we get married doesn’t mean I have to be nice.”

“Generally, people like their spouses,” Day mutters, earning a middle finger but no further reaction.

Daz scoffs, “This is still an upgrade, remember? He’s damn near crying tears of joy because I make his fuckin’ food.” “You’re cooking for Aster?!”

Ignoring Lee’s outburst, Daz rolls his eyes. “Why are you such a petty bitch?”

The guy’s expression darkens, seeming almost…guilty.

For once, Lucid wishes he could peek inside his head to know what could get under his skin like that.

…Then again, knowing what he already knows…it’s probably something nasty enough to fuck his sleep up even more.

Nevermind, then.

Quietly, Daz murmurs, “...Let’s get back to work, then. I want you out of my head almost as much as you want to be out.”

Yeah, whatever is going on in there is definitely not something he wants to be privy to.

[infinitethree]

It's not often that Theo finds himself struggling to sit down and talk with his best friend.

But after learning what massive secrets he's kept, Theo has…

Honestly?

He's avoided Aster.

It's been weeks since the truth behind Daz’s shiny facade was stripped away. Theo was the first ‘outsider’ to see the broken, mangled, wretched thing underneath all that carefully-crafted image.

In the moment, he had felt a numb sense of horror.

Out of everyone on the server, he should be able to spot someone like.

Someone using care for others as a form of self-harm; someone hiding their trauma behind a smile; someone who has been running for so long that stopping feels like death.

…Someone exactly like his dad.

He still remembers the first time he saw Daz. He had been wrapped up in the arms of his Dream, looking up over the back of the couch like he was waiting for them.

His surprise had been so genuine that he wrote it off, but…

How much was a surprise?

Maybe it doesn't matter. Daz had bluntly said he planned to use whoever showed up to commit a form of suicide by cop, so– does it really matter if he was surprised it was them or surprised it was anyone?

The awareness of how close Theo came to doing that the second time leaves him cold in a way he hates.

Frost is his refuge. When rage and fire fail, he knows he can retreat to the ice and become something untouchable.

This chill, though…it leaves him feeling small and helpless.

He knows Aster didn't enjoy hiding this from him. He also knows– or is pretty damn sure– that Daz did…all of that, as a fucked up form of self defense.

But he’s still hurt by it.

Aster had been in tears from whatever he's seen of Daz’s past.

He explicitly said he'd rather deal with the monster that made him sit still as he carved a brand into his neck than Daz's own brother.

If Aster was so distraught about Daz’s past…was it worse? Was it really–

He scrubs his hands over his eyes. Sleep is gonna elude him again because of how jumbled and chaotic his thoughts and feelings are, so he reluctantly gets to his feet.

Pretty much the only thing he can think to do is go upstairs and try and watch something, but he spots Lee's light on.

Worried, he pokes his head in.

Lee is hunched over his desk, hard at work on what looks like a bracelet.

Calcite beads! For Daz? Aww he's serious about claiming him!! Baby bro best bro

He walks up and taps Lee’s shoulder. His little brother yelps in surprise and jumps in his chair.

A snort escapes him as he’s glared at. “Don’t sneak up on me,” Lee snaps, putting his work down to try and smooth his ruffled feathers.

“Sorry, baby bro,” he replies, glad that this, at least, hasn't changed.

His brother huffs softly, looking away.

A sudden and familiar shift comes over Lee’s expression, though.

“You'll find what you need at the Swords and Shields building,” his brother murmurs.

Brow furrowed, Lee asks, “What do you need Aster for?”

Theo grimaces. “I mean…”

Lee straightens up. “You've talked to him since everything, right?” “...In a manner of fuckin’ speaking–”

“Theo.” “It’s a lot to fuckin’ deal with!”

Not the smallest part of which is that Aster and Daz apparently get together.

Which is weird! He and Astet had a goddamned heart-to-heart about how they had no interest in that sort of thing!

Lee points at the door. “Go talk to your friend, coward.” “I'm not a–!” “Go.”

He sounds just like D3! Oh my goddd he's adorable Best!! Bro!!! He do got a point tho Face the music my guy it's time to dance

Uhhhg.

======

After a flight filled with mild bickering and trying to figure out what to say, he opens the doors to the Swords and Shields training hall.

He can hear the sounds of a fight. Huh, weird– who the hell did Aster call to spar with him at this hour?

Silent as possible, he slips in and–

Holy shit! Oh my god?! THE BASTARD CAN FIGHT?!?!?

He finds himself in mute agreement.

Daz doesn't look to be having an easy time, exactly, but he’s also wielding an axe like he’s right at home doing so.

…Wait, doesn't he use daggers?

He sees that familiar, feral grin on Aster’s face that says he's enjoying himself– giving him another weird pang that he definitely doesn’t want to identify any time soon.

That expression suddenly falters and Daz lunges forward, slamming his axe down.

Aster stumbles as he respawns on the spot, then glares at Daz. “That’s cheap.”

“That’s pressing the advantage against a stronger opponent,” Daz scoffs, leaning on his axe.

“So you admit I'm stronger.” “It's been years since I thought otherwise. Unlike some people in this room, I'm not fixated on my physical strength.”

I think he means you? Yeahhh sounds like you crazy to throw shade after what he's done but he's also not wrong lmaooooo

Annoyed, Theo stalks forwards. “Don’t be a fuckin’ bitch.”

Daz rolls his eyes and turns to sit down on a nearby bench.

Without his shirt on, Theo gets a glimpse of weird scars across his back.

Those are magic burns. What kind of magic? I don't recognize that one. 

He clears his throat. “What made that mark on your fuckin’ back?”

Daz squints at him. “...What?” “Fates say it's from fuckin’ magic. Was that the fuckin’ enchantment?”

Understanding seems to dawn on Daz. “Ah. No, but it was the inciting incident.”

Lightly, Daz answers, “I was shoved in a one-by-one cage and pelted with dozens upon dozens of potions, poison and instant health back and to back, in the span of about twenty minutes.”

There's a pause, and then Daz amends, “Forty-nine, apparently.”

He remembers Daz mentioning that cage years ago. It pissed him off at the time that anyone would think of doing something like that.

Daz hadn't mentioned he was actually inside it, though. Actually, he explicitly said he only saw it.

Aster sits down heavily on the bench, looking ill. “What the fuck was– all of that was for Dream?”

“I was just bait. The only thing he gave a shit about, unable to do anything but wait for rescue…again.”

The words are bitter, and understandably so.

Slowly, Theo says, “That much magic is fuckin’ lethal.” He’s picked up enough from his dad to know that much, even if he's never come anywhere near abusing potions to that extent.

There's a little shrug. “Dream’s obsession was probably kept me from dying. My theory is that that's the same reason the enchantment didn't immediately kill me, too.”

Tone way too fucking light for what he’s saying, Daz muses, “The world itself was even more closely entwined with admins than here. His will could have been powerful enough to bridge the gap…probably.”

Aster looks horrified. “Probably?!”

“I saw what he did to the program. I should be dead.”

It’s said so matter-of-factly that Theo doesn’t even know how to begin to respond.

Daz studies him, and Theo realizes that the scars on his back aren’t the only ones he has.

The guy has seen more fighting than Theo ever gave him credit for, huh?

Swallowing, scrambling for something that isn’t deeply depressing to latch onto, he mumbles, “Thought you used fuckin’ daggers, not an axe.”

He gets another shrug. “Axe is what I trained with. I’m too good to write off but not good enough to hide it better. I don’t have bullshit reaction time like you and the Comet, here.”

“I hate that fucking nickname,” Aster grumbles. “I know. That’s why I started it,” Daz tells him.

Wait, Daz came up with it?

“That was you?” “Among many other things, both good and bad.”

Daz gestures at the room around them. “All of this is because I went to him with a vision, after all. His switch from copying you in combat to being his own damn person was from me, too.”

…Shit, Daz really has done a lot, hasn’t he? Those two things alone really lead credence to why Aster didn’t ever come forward about him before now.

Aster is who he is because Daz pushed him into it. His best friend would be…fuck, he would be so much smaller, if he hadn’t been put on this path.

He’s not sure how to feel about that.

There’s a stretch from Daz, who idly notes, “He planned to keep an eye on me and report what I was up to, by the way. At least, at first. After a while…it was harder and harder to admit I didn’t have a point.”

Aster sighs deeply, not quite looking at either of them. “...He’s persuasive. I– I never liked keeping his secret, but–”

His friend’s face twists. “Theo, you know I don’t really like him. I think he’s–” “Careful how you speak about your future husband, dear.” “You’re a borderline sociopath who fucks with others for reasons ranging from petty to unresolved trauma, you’ve positioned yourself so you can’t be effectively helped, and you have so many fucking secrets it gives me hives,” Aster finishes.

Daz clicks his tongue softly. “I’m sure we’ll deal with this in couple’s counseling one day.” “I’ll setting for you dealing with your shit in regular counseling, that’d be a great start.”

Weird dynamic Familiar tho?? Yeah nah they obviously do this a lot Oh I meant that they’re, like, Theo and Day lmao

“Excuse the fuck you, Dad n’ I aren’t like them!”

That outburst makes Aster grimace. “I mean…” Almost smug, Daz hums, “Apparently I’m ‘just like Day’, and you and Aster are practically twins, so…”

He glares at both of them. “Fuck you.”

Daz’s eyebrows shoot up. Amused, he says, “Careful, Aster seems the jealous sort.”

Aghast, Aster tells him, “Shut the fuck up.” “But hon, it’s really funny to see you all flustered!” “I could strangle you. You fucked with the server code so deaths wouldn’t show up here, anyway–” “Yeah? How sure are you about how that works? Because I could have given it a limit, Aster. I could have made it so that it shuts off when I kill you,” Daz cackles, and fuck is it still weird to see him acting like this!

Aster’s jaw ticks, and then he slams his eyes shut. After taking a long, deep breath, and visibly calming himself in a way Theo suspects he learned mainly to deal with Daz, Aster answers, “If you keep being a bastard, I won’t sleep with you again.”

WHAT NANI THE FUCK HOLY SHIT WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN THEO GET AN EXPLANATION NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW

Face turning red, Daz snaps, “Don’t– say it in a way that’s– fuck you, don’t imply shit!”

Sounding and looking smug, Aster tells him, “Doesn’t it suck to get your bullshit turned back on you? I’ve already told you–”

Oh, so this is– so fucking weird, because Aster grabs Daz’s chin and continues, voice low, “I’ll go as low as you do.”

Daz all but throws himself away from Aster, ending up on the floor.

Evidently satisfied at whatever the fuck just happened, Aster turns back to him and explains, “He went missing for about sixteen hours yesterday. Apparently he was in a hidey-hole we overlooked, working on code with Innit. After he tried to storm off and failed miserably because he hadn’t eaten in ages, we had a chat. I made him lay down and have decent sleep for probably the only time since before he showed up here.”

Having apparently recovered, but still a bit red-faced, Daz mutters, “The coma was pretty good sleep.”

Hmm, that’s definitely not a good enough answer by literally any metric.

Instead of even beginning to touch on– literally any of that, Theo asks, “The fuck did you do before?”

“Dream. It stopped working when he betrayed me.”

…Shit, that’s depressing.

Aster adds, “Daz was working on that code because he made a deal with the Showrunner, by the way. He sees me like I see him, so…”

Daz suddenly squints. “You two had an entire pow-wow about how aro/ace you are? When the fuck was that?” “First party you inflicted on me about my earring from Theo. You know, where you riled up my own goddamned subordinates into thinking it was an engagement thing?”

Scoffing, Daz– who seems to not want to get up off the floor, at least for the moment– tells him, “In my defense, it wasn’t my idea to start with.” “Yeah, no, you still caused enough parties and well-wishes that that doesn’t actually matter, Daz.”

Theo remembers that party. He also remembers how Daz had seemed so damn hangdog about upsetting Aster.

Yeah, Aster’s dislike of him continues to only make more and more sense.

Flippantly, Daz says, “Pissed me off that you got earrings.” “Why the fuck–”

Aster goes quiet, suddenly looking stricken. Weakly, he says, “Oh.”

…Is this what it’s like to see him talk with the Fates? Or with his Dad?

Annoyed at being left out of the loop, he asks, “The fuck did you see?”

Daz looks up at him right as a beam of moonlight hits him. He looks surreal and dreamlike as he answers, “I abandoned my only claims before I came to Sanctuary. I couldn’t properly reciprocate anything I got here because I thought it would kill the other party.”

His heart sinks and squeezes at the same time.

Theo knows, better than pretty much any other non-admin, the impact that bond items have on an admin.

His mind is cast back a long, long, long time ago. When his dad was teetering on the edge of deciding if he’d take Theo and his brothers in…his eyes had gone to little trinkets they had given him.

Those were claims to him, he suddenly realizes. His dad had spent a literal lifetime adrift, but what seemed like clumsy attempts to reciprocate his kindness were the lifeline he had so desperately needed.

All over it again, it hits him how mangled Daz actually is. He was never a wounded baby bird, but instead a weasel that a cat had gotten ahold of and torn to shreds.

Even if he left plenty of wounds in return, he’s still been bleeding out in plain sight for years.

“...Why did you fuckin’-- why Lee?”

He’s stared at almost like he’s stupid. “If I was going to reject half of myself because I wasn’t ready to kill him, it’s dumb to do that by halves.” “But why,” Theo presses, still not understanding.

If it had been the Fates screaming at him, he doesn’t know that he could have held strong. At the time, Lee was basically nothing to him– so why was it so important to Daz to keep him alive?

Daz sighs, stretching his legs out into a more comfortable position. “Kindness like that is easy to snuff out. Is it really so hard to believe that I needed a liferaft, too?”

…That’s it? Everything Daz has done, all the secrets and lies and scheming– all because Lee was kind?

There’s a wry smile. “There was only ever one other person who was kind for mostly-selfless reasons. Even Dream, for all he did for me…he needed me. He needed to have someone who could never leave. I was his salvation, his chance at turning his prison into a paradise.”

Quietly, Aster murmurs, “Friendship isn’t selfish, Daz.” “Tubbo didn’t have anyone else to turn to, but he also wasn’t completely trapped. Not until…”

Despite Daz trailing off, Aster looks sad. “You still blame yourself.” “I was the one who made him stay. Without me, he would have gone off to sail the seas with his cousin. At every step, he stayed for me…and it led to a shallow grave.”

Almost unconsciously, Daz rubs the bracelet on his wrist. Dark green and red– bloodstone, Theo is pretty sure.

Has he…worn that in memory of his Tubbo? Theo remembers him getting it before he even left Summer Hills.

“Nobody stays without a reason. In Sanctuary, I’ve made sure people had ample reason– power, manipulation, food, even gratitude. The useless and worthless are discarded, so I made sure nobody would ever see me like that,” Daz continues.

His need to be useful wasn’t just a part of the lie? The shape maybe but not the content fuuuuuuuuck he’s so– so– can we go back and kill his Dream I feel like that’d be good for everyone Yeah actually let’s go kill him Murdertrip!!

Theo doesn’t dignify the Fates with a response. They damn well know that nobody is going back to that place– a berserk admin with nothing left to lose is too dangerous to go against if there’s any other options.

He sighs deeply. “Really need to do fuckin’ therapy, Daz.” “It’s easier to talk to people I know. I don’t like most Technoes.” “Isn’t fuckin’ Aleph in your secret club? N’ don’t you fuckin’ hang around Attie all the time?”

Daz rolls his eyes. “Most is the operative word, Theo.”

Reaching up to yank his hair out of its ponytail, Daz continues, “Atlas is one of my closest non-Council friends, actually. I think highly of him and like watching him work.”

Wait, don’t they have duo items?

Aster notes, “You should probably back that up if you really care.” “Shut up.” “Consider– no. You never have, after all.” “Let me work on the people I care the most about first, then I’ll work my way outwards.”

Resting his elbows on his knees, Aster stares Daz down and tells him, “And where do I fit into that?”

Daz looks like a deer in headlights. “I– what?” “I mean– we already know we get literally fucking married, Daz. With a kid–” “That’s then, this is now!” “I dunno, if we’re not fighting…maybe it’s worth working towards that future.”

They have a kld?!

“A kid?!”

Both of them seem to startle, almost like they forgot he was even there. Aster laughs, “Yeah, we uh– with the whole…future vision shit, uh– we both saw her.” “The fuck did this happen?! Why didn’t you fuckin’ say anything?!”

Aster opens his mouth, and then breaks out into laughter. Daz joins a beat later, smacking his hand on the floor. “Holy fucking– gods, yeah, that tracks!” “Oh my gods, she’s gonna be untouchable. Literally, the aura of her power will make people part in fear,” Aster cackles.

He’s not following. “The fuck’re you two on about?”

Theo is definitely not grumpy and feeling weird that the two of them have this– shared knowledge that Theo can’t even begin to touch, on top of years of existing secrecy.

Daz snickers, “You bawling like a baby when she says your name for the first time.” “Looks about ready to pass out the first time he holds her, terrified he’ll drop her,” Aster adds, grinning at him.

Yeah that tracks honestly idk man maybe Theo shouldn’t be trusted with a tiny kid how do they adopt her actually??

Disgruntled, he asks, “How do you two fuckin’ adopt?”

Still amused, Daz tells him, “No. Surrogate, I think.” “She has your freakishly blue eyes, Daz, even as a newborn.” “And she’s named after you, so–”

Ohhhhh fuck, that’s– that’s a whole different ballgame, then.

After giving himself a minute to let his brain reboot, he says, “...Dad’ll have a fuckin’ grandkid, huh?”

They both give him weirdly similar looks of confusion, so he stammers, “I– uh, if dad walks Aster down the fuckin’ aisle–”

“I’m already family in all but name, so– yeah, actually, she would be his grandkid,” Aster murmurs.

Daz snorts softly. “Don’t look so sour, Theo. I know you’re jealous I’m stealing your fiance–” “I can literally snap your fuckin’ neck, Daz.” “--but you’re gaining a godchild and niece.”

That…is so fucking surreal to consider that he doesn’t even know what to say.

Daz continues, “Alongside Lee and Raine, obviously.” “Can you even do three?” “Why not? Our kid, our rules. Anyone objects and we can direct them to the three of them and say, ‘okay, so you get to tell them to duke it out for who gets to stay the godfather.’ Actually, wait, that sounds funny.”

Do we even know how to like…deal? With girls? Uhhhh should we start looking into shovel talks now? I feel like now. What why literally LOOK at Daz. a kid that’s the spitting image of him??? A GIRL??? Oh my god that poor thing she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’ll probably be able to supplex you into your FACE

The server is in no way, shape, or form ready for a kid of any gender raised by those two.

Theo is reminded of how Daz ever so gently pleaded with Lee to let him go. How his primary reason had been to protect Lee, no matter the cost– how he had been willing to throw his own life away because he thought that Lee’s safety was in jeopardy.

It had been his primary angle when trying to convince the rest of them, too.

He shivers at the idea of that kind of loyalty and devotion being given to anyone, but especially a kid that they’ll be planning for. 

Deciding that, actually, he doesn’t want to think about that right now, he switches topics. “So why’re you both out here this late?”

“I was indulging the fightslut tendencies of my future husband. He did something nice for me, I did something nice for him,” Daz answers, evidently unbothered by the shift to something else.

Aster rolls his eyes. “I am not–” “Up until apparently me, the closest thing you’ve had to that kind of feeling is during a fight,” Daz retorts, looking smug, “Tell me I’m wrong, bitch.”

“I– shut up.” “I’m totally convinced, what a persuasive argument.” “I–!”

Obviously floundering, Aster sputters, “If I am, then so is Theo!”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Don’t fuckin’ drag me into whatever the fuck is happening.” “I’m just saying–” “Aww, babe…are you already bored with me? I’m sure I can find some way to make things more fun–”

Euuhg, gross gross gross, hearing that kind of simpering tone from Daz, directed at Theo’s best friend–

Aster, evidently in agreement, lunges forward and slaps a hand over the bastard’s mouth. Daz looks painfully smug as he ends up flat on his back, looking up at his evidently future husband’s bright red face.

“I’m going to kill you,” Aster growls at him.

Daz reaches up and rips Aster’s hand away. “Go on, do it. I fuckin’ dare you.”

There’s a long moment of seething, before Theo visibly sees a lightbulb go off in Aster’s head.

Grabbing both of Daz’s wrists, he slams them against the ground and leans in so close that Theo would swear they’re kissing.

Instead, his face moves to Daz’s ear and he tells him, voice low, “I thought you didn’t want to play this game, love. I can stake a public claim on you any time I want– make the server think of you as mine. If we’re going to get married eventually anyway, I don’t see the point in waiting.”

Daz squeaks in dismay, looking like he’s trying to shrink away.

“When you aren’t being a bastard, it’s not hard to see why I turn into such a simp for you. Having someone like you all to myself…I’m starting to see the appeal.”

Holy shit When did we start watching a romcom is this like– how you catch an admin?? Nah fam I think Daz is just a freak

Aster suddenly pulls back and grabs Daz’s shirt. Tone back to normal, he demands, “Your paycheck is what?!”

…Huh?

“You goddamned bastard, you bitched and moaned about getting me paid more when you make that much a month?!”

Daz gawks at him, still bright red, but eventually seems to recalibrate to the shift. “I– yeah, dipshit, I perform a vital service! I’m one of the highest paid people on the goddamned server, right after Management and the T3!”

Aster shakes him. “Theo does not get paid that much!” “Wait, really? Huh, then I guess only Management makes more than I do.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and then Daz rolls his eyes. “Your paycheck isn’t nothing, asshole.” “It’s not– that!” “That money is literally going to be half yours eventually, why are you bitching?” “I–”

Aster sits up so he’s kneeling. He sounds unsure as he says, “That’s…not the point…?” “You already know I’m stupid rich, this shouldn’t be a shock to you.” “Still not the point.”

A long, annoyed sigh comes from Daz. “If you can promise to keep your fucking mouth shut and let me work, I’ll let you spend a day watching me at the Welcome Wagon so you see why I’m worth that much. Shockingly, I do actually have a lot of things I have to get done, and if I’m busy answering stupid questions, I won’t be able to be as productive as I need to be.”

There’s a long, contemplative silence.

“...Only on one condition.” “The fact that I’m graciously allowing you watch a master at work is more than you deserve, so choose your words carefully.”

Aster leans down just a little again. Staring into Daz’s eyes, he demands, “Feed me.”

Daz is silent for a moment, and then asks in a tone both exasperated and confused, “Why?”

“I have spent literal fucking years having you spike any food you make for me. I want the real thing. I want to actually enjoy your cooking for once, without being afraid it’ll come back to bite me later.”

…Is Daz’s cooking actually that good?

Clicking his tongue, Daz answers, “Incentivize me.” “...What do you want?”

There’s a long silence, and then, very quietly and not looking at Aster directly, he mumbles, “You should know what I want.”

With a weirdly gentle expression, Aster says, “...That can be unrelated to the whole– seeing what you actually do. Cook for me and I’ll be your sleep aid.”

“Does your…nevermind. We can talk about it later.” “It’ll have to be your room, obviously.”

Daz turns his head to look up at Aster, seeming to search for something.

Then he blinks and says, “I don’t go in tomorrow. Today, technically.” Aster snorts, “I’ll grab something to sleep in, then. Make me lunch or something.”

There’s a relived smile, and then Daz says, “I’ll go get ready. See you!”

Theo can’t even begin to move fast enough, even if he wanted to, to stop Daz from opening his console and teleporting away.

Aster is left kneeling on the ground, a look between happiness, frustration, and confusion on his face.

Slowly, his friend gets to his feet, then looks at him. “That’s the best conversation we’ve had since I’ve known him, by the way. He’s just– like that.”

Finally able to find his voice, Theo demands, “The fuck was all that?” “All what?” “All of–” Theo grimaces, gesturing at the place Daz had been.

It seems to take Aster a moment to realize what he means. “Oh! Yeah, that’s– psychological warfare. I already told him that if he wants to take the low road, I’ll go lower. I’m sick of putting up with his petty bullshit, so…I’m punishing that, but rewarding good behavior.”

That very much does not sound like something one should say about their future spouse.

“Like a fuckin’ dog?” “Theo, I understand you aren’t aware of his sociopathic tendencies, not really,” Aster laughs, an edge of mania in his voice. He grips Theo’s shoulders, saying in a way that sounds almost like seething, “I finally have a way to give just as good as I get. Maybe he’ll stop being a bastard once I stop letting him shove me around.”

He squints. That sounds even less like a good thing for a partner to say.

Then again, what does he know about this kind of thing?

Daz IS kinda a bastard tho Maybe some snork mimimi will fix him? Power of love, baby!! He literally thinks any kind of affection is like, transactional, though I dunno…Aster seems to kinda just want food? That seems like a low price??

He shakes his head. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ understand it. Go fuckin’ appease your man, or whatever you fuckin’ are.”

“No idea, honestly. I might have to actually ask him out or something– taunting him like that…”

Aster laughs a little, far less villainous-sounding, as he starts to walk towards the door. “I think I get part of why he targeted me so much. It’s kind of fun, actually? It’d do his ego good, too, remembering that he’s not untouchable.” Theo is left in the Swords and Shields training hall, struggling to figure out how the fuck he’s supposed to explain literally any of this to his therapist.

[infinitethree]

When the next lesson with Daz and Lee comes, Lucid pretty quickly clocks a weird vibe in the air.

But, well, it’s Daz and Lee. What could they possibly get up to that could be considered malicious?

Eventually, Lee turns to Daz and tells him, like a warning, “You’re stalling. Get it over with, Daz.”

And Daz…

Changes.

There’s no other way to describe it. Like a lightswitch, he flips from the guy that Lucid has known for years– whose soul he repaired from the bastardized loyalty enchantment shoved into it, who has become a pillar of the server, who has been so painfully kind and generous and good to–

To someone else.

“I knew I was an admin all along. I don’t trust you, because you remind me of Dream. The man who I considered a brother, my mentor, who ruined me. The loyalty enchantment you fixed…? I wrote most of it.”

None of that even begins to start to register before San’s extreme confusion bowls him over.

That makes two of them! Daz shouldn’t be able to lie to San, that’s not–

A chill goes down his spine as Daz gives him a humorless smile. It looks wrong on his face.

“Lying and acting are easy. It’s not hard to just–”

Oh, fuck, it is so disturbing to watch Daz’s expression and body language flip to something entirely different. It’s like he’s putting on a pair of clothes.

…Like he’s switching masks.

It’s exactly how Lucid saw him when he first arrived. Timid, head bowed, shoulders hunched, expression anxious and fearful. “I– it’s, uhm–! Being able to, to just– it’s not…it’s not impressive. I don’t– I’m not bragging. It’s not th– that big of, uhm, of a deal. I, I just…I’m sure anyone else could do it. If they wanted to.”

The mask gets swapped to the one Lucid knows better. Bright, bubbly, cheerful, expression warm and voice perky. “So, sure, I can like– lie good enough that the perpetual surveillance system never caught on but like…it’s not hard? You just gotta stare at yourself in the mirror for like, ever, and have a perfect mastery of your face and voice and body! Totally not that impressive.”

As if to drive the point home, the absolute worst is the way Daz erases everything.

No emotion to his voice, his face, his body language. He looks like a mannequin and it’s disturbing enough that Lucid will definitely have nightmares about that.

“I still do not trust you will not snap one day. Your existence as an admin Dream grates against me like blackstone does to your soul. The same eyes; the same voice; the same face; the same stupid fixation on fairness at the cost of all else. I resent your existence.”

Lee, wings poofed out in distress, snaps at him, “What the fuck?! Why did you have to break it like that?!”

Daz blinks, and emotions return. He tells Lee, a literal child, “I’m being blackmailed into revealing anything. Be grateful I didn’t make it worse.”

Granted, it’s kind of hard to focus on anything around San’s freakout, but Lucid croaks, “Who–?”

“DayDream,” Daz seethes, and, oh, okay!

This is a person who can effortlessly lie and is very much not an outlier vis-a-vis the Tommy capacity for spite.

Cool. Awesome. Lucid is going to have words with Day about how little he wants to bear the brunt of Daz’s resentment about being forced to out himself.

He swallows. “I…am going to guess you, uh– are so good with code because you already know all of this.”

“I can out-code you in a lot of ways,” Daz scoffs.

When Lucid squints at him, Lee shrugs helplessly. “He’s been teaching me for a few weeks in secret. He explains it better.”

Daz’s hands move, and suddenly Lucid’s console is forcibly redirected to a page of code.

…Oh, he does not like what he’s seeing.

Teeth bared in a mockery of a smile, Daz tells him, “That’s what I used to make sure the idiots of my original server were ignorant that I killed Dream. He made dinner in a pathetic, worthless attempt at an olive branch. I ate it, composed that code, and jammed the knife in his throat. Then I mocked him while I watched him bleed out on our blackstone tile floor.”

That sure does explain how Daz realized the effects of long-term blackstone and obsidian exposure to a fully ascended admin.

Staring him down as if daring him to say something, Daz continues, “As he respawned, I threw both halves of our claims in the fire. Our server was silent, so he could just…go back and watch.”

It should horrify him, but all Lucid can say and think is, “Good. Regardless of what he was like before he hit that point…? That code was– there was no way he wasn’t aware it was killing you.”

A bitter scoff escapes Daz. “Not like I could stop from screaming with every order. But I was counting on it killing me. The T3 gave me a better option for revenge, though– because walking away would mean he stayed there, waiting, for the rest of his life.”

Lucid shudders. He does not want to piss this guy off now or ever.

If he hadn’t seen the enchantment, he’d feel some pity for Dream.

Instead, he’s just glad Daz was able to exercise some sort of power in that situation.

Lee suddenly pipes up. “He’s the one who told me about Piglins. And, uh, is teaching me about Endfolk.”

He squints. “Endfolk? So they’re smart, too?” “Sapient is the word you’re looking for,” Daz sniffs. Lucid can hear the unspoken idiot, and it’s surreal as fuck to hear from Daz.

“Sapient, then. So, uh– are we…going to introduce them to the server, too, or–”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Daz snaps. “Endfolk customs and culture revolve around using words to fuck over other hauntings. You play by their rules or they attack you. On a server like this, that’ll lead to full-blown wars. Wars that will leave hundreds of living, sentient beings very much dead forever.”

Ah.

Daz rants, “You’d be lucky to be allowed to shadow a meeting with them– Lee isn’t allowed to do it until he can pass a test to my satisfaction. He’s too easy to traumatize with that shit.”

…Lucid gets the impression that Daz wouldn’t mind him getting traumatized, though.

“I– will trust your judgment on that, I guess?” “You guess,” Daz sneers.

He makes a face and says, “So sue me for not keeping up with– with all of this! It’s kind of a lot to drop on me all at once, you know!”

Daz gives him a withering look. “Blame DayDream, then.” “Oh, I very much do.”

Lee points out, “But Dad was right, you know. Lucid– it’s not fair to keep you in the dark. Not when you’ll both be working together…”

Another scoff comes from Daz. “I only agreed to do any of this because I wasn’t going to let you be trained alone.”

The implications of what he was afraid of speak volumes about how deeply traumatic his past actually was. Not the parts he’s lied about– the actual past.

It makes him wonder…”You haven’t been doing therapy right, have you?”

There’s a roll of his eyes. “I’m being forcibly switched to Iatros, so stay out of it. I don’t need you on my case about that, too.”

…Wonderful, they’re going to share a therapist. That’s…at least ‘Tros is familiar with admin shit?

…Probably why he’s being switched, actually.

After taking a long, deep breath, and with a moment to gather his thoughts, he finally asks the big question;

“So, what now?”

Daz narrows his eyes like he doesn’t understand. Lucid clarifies, “If you don’t like or trust me, it’s not fair to make you study under me–” “I’m not leaving you alone with Lee.”

Hmm, okay then.

He tries another angle, “Alright. Then…maybe you can teach me?”

When Daz doesn’t immediately tell him to fuck off, he continues, “If you’re so much better than me, I could probably learn a lot from you. And if we’re not talking through you trying to pretend to be someone you’re not–”

“An act that fooled you, I’ll point out.” “Yeah, obviously. But it also meant that you had to channel things you clearly knew already through Lee or, uh, acting like you’re just now figuring them out. Now, you can just– I dunno, use this to rub in how superior you actually are? I don’t really, uh, know what the real you is like.”

Daz drums his fingers on his arm. The silence stretches until he sighs and mutters, “...I guess I can show you a few things.”

And…so sue him, Lucid is actually kind of excited to learn what Daz’s actual skills are in regards to this.

He must have been holding back, but was already very impressive.

As weird as this whole situation is, as disturbing as it is to know that Daz was actually far more competent than he ever let on…

Well. He can’t really say there’s no upsides to him showing his hand. Willingly or not, Daz opening up means that they can actually help him…and that Daz can help them, too.

[infinitethree]

It rankles Daz to have both Day and Theo in his territory without permission.

The Council rooms are the closest thing he has to something holy. Sure, his rooms aren't exactly public property, but–

This is his oasis. His place to retreat to when he needs a break from wearing the mask of his false persona.

Nobody who he didn't explicitly approve of should be here.

Granted, he was the one who brought Theo here first. But that was for a singular goal– a goal that Aster thwarted.

…He's isn’t sure he really believes that he's not cursed. And Lee doing something like he did will only draw the Scribe's attention to him.

Catching the interest of a being like that could lead to a fate worse than death.

Nothing he can do about it but try and divert their attention– try to make things interesting enough that they don’t bother focusing on Lee.

Currentl, the full Council, Lee included, are seated at their table alongside Day and Theo.

They've been listening to them explain what they've been doing. His allies are pissed at him but adamant that the Council is good for both them and the server as a whole.

“Daz can be an asshole, yeah. Deeply fucked up in a lot of ways that I've been worried about for a long time, but…” Khons gestures around them.

“The fact that he could make something like this, fully hidden from everyone? That's a testament to what he can do when he puts his mind to it. The fact that someone like that, regardless of the reasons, decided to help the server…”

Instead of letting the implication linger, Raine is more blunt. “If Daz had malicious intent, we'd all be cooked. I've heard bits and pieces of what he did to his ex-mentor. He might be a petty dick with even worse self esteem than we realized, but Khons is right. I've gotten a better view of him than…maybe anyone else ever has. Aster’s weird visions aside, obviously.”

Daz glares at said person, who is still not meeting his gaze.

Coward.

Raine keeps going. “You literally could not pay a dozen people to shoulder even half the load that he does. Even if they agreed, they would somehow be worse at it than he is!”

Day interrupts, “I'm going to need clarification and examples of what exactly he does that goes beyond the Welcome Wagon.”

That's his cue, then.

He leans back in his chair and scoffs, “I keep track of basically the entire server. Not with mod tools, but with gossip. If the Egg broke through, I'd be the first to realize. If we were somehow secretly invaded, I'd be the first to realize. If tensions rise, if prank wars go too far, if people are feeling unhappy in a dangerous way– I'm the one who fixes it.”

His console pops up with a message. There’s not a ton of people he's routed messages through his com like this, which means he can't hold off on answering.

As he scans the text, he frowns. “What dogshit timing. I can’t put this off– usually I'd walk off to do this, but I doubt I'm allowed to. So everyone gets to shut the fuck up while I put a fire out.”

He doesn't bother waiting for a response. He pulls his com out and puts it on speaker for incoming audio, puts his earpiece in for his mic, and makes a call.

It's easier to don his mask if he does so completely, so his body and face shift to worried but kind. “I got your message, Ten. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Tentra, a recently-settled refugee and Dream, hiccups. “I– I don't deserve to be here. Not after everything I've–”

“Don’t be silly! You made mistakes, sure, but so have lots of others. There aren't a ton of people here who can truthfully claim to be totally innocent. And, y'know– Sanctuary is really big on rehabilitation! Just because you did bad things doesn't mean you can't learn to do better,” he reassures, tone warm and gentle.

He knows why Tentra thinks his sins are unforgivable. He was from a fantastical world, a dragon who had been roused from his slumber when knights tried to slay him.

Enraged, he had gone on a rampage and laid waste to the knights and a nearby town. After that, he was hunted and nearly slain before the T3 showed up.

Innocents had died, and now that the fear and anger have subsided…Tentra feels every bit the monster he was claimed to be.

“I'm– if I stay, people will just get hurt!” “Even if that were true, we can kinda respawn as many times as we need. You can't really kill anyone here for good,” Daz points out.

He does not mention the caveat of will to live. No point in making things complicated.

The guy protests, “But they're still going to be hurt!”

He sighs softly. “You remember Day and Theo, right?” “Y– yeah? They were nice…and a little scary.” “Well, their family sorta stabs each other for fun. Theo regularly threatens to murder his dad in his sleep, and Day's response is just to laugh and taunt him. My understanding is that Theo has sincerely tried…and just kinda failed.”

Tentra sounds concerned. “Are they okay? That's…weird.” “I mean– Day did adopt two people who are cosmically just himself. So, like, weird is relative when it comes to them? Also, he's…got some unorthodox parenting methods. But the Was-Taken household is super loving, even if they also, like, lunge across the table to stab Theo and/or Perce during family dinners.”

He giggles. “As weird as it sounds, it works for them! Theo's best friend, Aster– the Swords and Shields guy? He's like, super big into fighting. The two of them do sparring matches all the time! He's actually like, super cool to watch; we call him the Comet for a reason.”

Staring Theo dead in the eyes, he drops his voice like he's sharing a secret and says, “Just between you and me? Aster is waaay more impressive. He’s, like– gosh, he was a pretty normal guy! And then he just decided to get really really good at combat. Sure, Theo is cool and on the same level…but he kinda got cheat codes.”

Theo makes an offended face and Daz flips him off. Tentra says, surprised, “Isn’t Theo really strong? So this, uh, Aster guy– he's on that level?”

“Yeah! And we kiiiinda have a mutual friend in Raine. You remember him, right? The kinda quiet Dream I work with. I bet if I asked nicely enough, he could get Aster to agree to something like…a demonstration, maybe? To show that even if you're a dragon, you're not the strongest person here. If you somehow like– totally lost it, there are people who could subdue you.”

That offer is met with silence for a few beats, and then a quiet, “I'd…really like that.”

Daz beams. “Awesome! I can set it up soon. In the meantime, how goes progress on finding a therapist?”

“I don't…know who to pick.” “That's okay! We have a ton of options and it can be confusing to sort them. Stop by the Welcome Wagon at some point soon, and I'll sit down and at least get you a shortlist, yeah?”

There's a sniffle. “Okay. Thank you, Daz. I– I feel a lot better, talking to you.” “I'm really glad to hear that. There’s no reason to leave, not unless you really want to go.”

Tentra sounds like he’s smiling. “I dunno if I believe that. But I'll trust in you, at least.” “You’re sweet. Any world would be lucky to have you, Ten.”

He hears that smile get a little bigger. “I'm pretty sure that's what I should say to you. I…I feel really blessed that I met you.” There’s a beat, and then Ten murmurs, “I'll let you go now. Thank you again, Daz.”

“Anytime,” he replies. He lets Ten hang up before taking his earpiece out and rolling his shoulders.

Day seems fascinated. “Why did you diffuse that?” “Because he’s a person who is best served in Sanctuary. It’s my job to make sure people who leave do so for the right reasons. Dragons are a bitch to rehome, too– d’you know what kind of considerations we have to have for that shit? So, yeah, no; I’m going to avoid that pointless hassle as much as possible. My time and energy are better spent elsewhere.”

Sullenly, Theo mutters, “Aster is not more fuckin’ impressive–” “I said that specifically to piss you both off. Congratulations on giving me exactly what I wanted.”

His attention shifts to Aster, who flinches despite still not looking at him. “You had better fuckin’ come through on this.” “Of course I will; I’m not that big of an asshole.”

When his glare intensifies, Aster shrinks down in his seat a little.

“Aster did a good thing,” Lee protests, and Daz just scoffs. “He invaded my privacy in a way I’m powerless to stop.”

The subject of his ire mutters, “I’ve told you my reasons–” “And I’ve told you, those aren’t fuckin’ good enough! You are so fuckin’ lucky that I can’t ruin you.”

Finally, Aster lifts his head to meet his gaze. There’s an odd look in his eyes, and an almost grim look on his face. “I don’t like this either, you know. It– your life sucks.”

In between breaths, the traitor suddenly goes pale. A shaky, almost uneasy laugh escapes him as he stares at the table. “I did not need proof, fuck, fuck, fuck–”

“...What did you see this time,” he asks, curious despite himself. “The fucking– Pogtopia. The worst part.”

Ah.

Interesting that he’s so distraught by that. “You had your own, didn’t you?”

Aster stares at him and says, half-hysterical, “Not like that, no! I could– lay down, at the very least! And there was– shit, there was some kind of light!”

Huh. Kinda fucked up that his own brother was worse than Aster’s Dream, in that regard.

He shrugs. “It’s not that big of a deal.” “Not that big of a–?!”

Eyes slamming shut, Aster takes several deep breaths. “I…can’t believe I’d take my Dream over him. Fuckin’ Prime…”

“It’s always the ones you love that can hurt you the most,” Daz hums, turning his attention back to the group at large. “An enemy hurting you is expected. A loved one doing so…well. That’s a special kind of treachery.”

Theo’s eyes are steely. “No fuckin’ shit. Especially when it’s your own fuckin’ parent.”

He corrects, “Brother. Phil and Techno were negligent and absent, but Wilbur…” “Of course it’s Wilbur,” Day mutters under his breath, wings poofing a little with distress.

The immortal scrubs a hand down his face and heaves a deep sigh. “I don’t– I don’t know that I can fully stop you. I’m pretty sure you’re capable of evading…pretty much anything I try and do to you, at least in part.”

“You’re correct,” Daz says, wary at where this is going.

“But here’s the thing.” Leaning forward and bracing his forearms on the table as he stares him down, Day tells him, “You’re not magically immune from the rules of Sanctuary. I’ll refrain from restraining you– all of you– on a few conditions. Your therapist, who you will be genuine and honest with, is going to be Iatros.”

Aster murmurs, “Closest thing we have to an expert on admins.” “Mhm. And he knows how to keep secrets without letting it affect how he acts too much. You’re also going to share information about the Scribe and Observers–”

“The latter of whom are already watching,” Raine tells him. Day grimaces. “Uhg…I hate that. I didn’t know they just– watched, without asking questions.”

Shaking his head, Day continues. “And you need to come clean to Lucid. He deserves to know–” “He’s the biggest fuckin’ threat,” Daz snaps as he shoots to his feet. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be under the thumb of an admin who’s snapped?!”

Day glares at him. “Your concern is noted. However, he has a dozen people closer to him who are more likely to notice something wrong before you. On top of that, it’s an extreme mental strain to not be able to drop your act outside of blackout rooms. For that reason alone, I’m putting my foot down about that.”

Daz seethes with rage. “Fuck you.” “Hate me all you want– but it’ll be better for you and everyone else in the long run. Shit– do you not want Lucid to be in your debt? Because you clearly know things that we don’t. Filtering it through Lee will be a bigger pain in the ass than just coming clean.”

Said person agrees, “And if he knows you’re as good as you are, you can stop being forced to cut back on Welcome Wagon hours. I know you hate doing that! And maybe you can, I dunno– fuck with his head by showing him a meeting with the endfolk–”

Clever kid, he already knows exactly how to reframe a situation to speak to Daz.

But his dad and brother seem surprised. Theo asks, “Endfolk? Are they fuckin’ special like piglins?”

He scoffs. “Yes and no. Endfolk are– capricious beings whose entire lives revolve around verbal sparring. Haunting dynamics are complicated, and endfolk customs are weird to wrap your head around. Fucking them up means that in a worse case scenario, dozens of hauntings target you and yours.”

Rolling his shoulders at the idea of Lee being subjected to that, he sighs, “Lee isn’t ready. Not until he can pass a test to my satisfaction. That’s the only point in which I’ll finally let him shadow a meeting with them.”

Day’s head tilts a little. “Explain why it’s so much more difficult than meeting with piglins.”

He moves to the side and gives an elaborate bow. Once he straightens, he gives his standard greeting. <”I of the day greet thee of the eternal night. I pray thy haunting has been blessed with prosperity and amusement.”>

Both Day and Theo jolt a little. “Fuckin’ shit, that's archaic.” “No wonder nobody caught on until now, if that’s their native tongue. Even those who speak Ender wouldn't use that dialect…even for words that exist in that one, a lot of them are shifted or different,” Day mutters, brow furrowed in thought.

Daz smiles enigmatically, but keeps his eyes on the neck down. <”With a tongue as old as the ancient cities they walk within, games using words both spoken and not, and little patience for those that fail to adhere to rules…truly, the why is no mystery. Attempting to do so would earn only the wrath of a folk who stand atop the food chain.”>

Both sigh deeply. “That’s some fuckin’ fae shit, right there,” Theo groans. “Sorry, baby bro, but– I might have to side with fuckin’ Daz on this one.”

He keeps his smile affixed. <”Thy admittance is commendable.”>

“Still pissed at you, don't fuckin’ push it,” the warrior growls.

He snorts and sits back down. “Noted.” He looks to Day and asks, “Are those your only conditions?”

The immortal sighs again. “...Just be honest with us. As commendable as your efforts are, I just– I don't like that you've hidden so much of yourself.”

When are you going to remind them about me?

A shudder goes down his spine at Innit’s seething tone.

“...You don't– aren't you worried? About me, about Innit–”

Day looks oddly sad. “You need therapy, Daz. Actual therapy not whatever the fuck you've been doing the last few years. Am I happy you apparently wanted to kill every Dream? Of course not. But I can’t punish you for thought crimes. If anything, you've punished yourself for that worse than I could ever hope to.”

The older man studies him like he's trying to understand him. “You sealed away a fundamental part of yourself to protect Lee. You did– all of this, on top of what we already knew about, to protect Lee. It's…insane, honestly? But also impossible to not recognize.”

That makes no sense to him. “Then why the fuck are you mad at me?”

“You did still lie to me, my kids, and the server at large for three years. And you were moments away from leaving a horrific scar on my eldest and youngest,” Day points out.

He answers, “My reasons have been made clear, and I left extensive documentation. You can’t be hurt if you're dead.”

Lee hisses, “You don't get to make sacrifices like that for me, asshole!”

It does make his heart twist a little to see how hurt the kid is. “I felt like I didn't have a choice.”

Quietly, Aster murmurs, “Because your failsafe realized just how mangled you actually are. And you knew I'd never follow through.”

“You broke into my head, my past, and drove me to a cliff,” Daz sneers. “You betrayed the trust I put in you.”

Aster finally meets his eyes. “You were making sure I'd be able to put an end to things if you went too far. Well…I did, didn't I?”

Fury sings in his blood as he withdraws, twists, and throws his butterfly knife. Aster easily dodges it as Daz screams at him, “You could have killed everyone, you stupid fuckin’ jackass! Your fuckin’ noble bullshit could've led to– not just fuckin’ death, but a fate worse than that! What if I was right and I was cursed?!”

“But you aren't,” Aster answers. “Even if you were, though…? I'd still try to save you.”

He doesn't understand, and it pisses Daz off.

Aster continues, “I'd have used that goddamned wish on you, if I needed to.”

It feels like the floor falls out from under him.

In no way, shape, or form is he deserving of something as impossible as a reality-altering wish.

Even if he might have been, once upon a time…he isn't any more.

Not after he failed so miserably in the worst possible ways.

But he’s good at hiding his true feelings, so he just scoffs, “Right, I’m sure.”

The traitor seems a little sad at that– like he wants Daz to believe he’d do that.

Maybe he would. Maybe it doesn’t actually matter, because he still did something horrible and violating.

Suddenly, Raine groans and slumps forward against the table. “I never thought I’d miss you two bickering, but here we are!”

“Yeahhhh…it was kinda nice not getting new and awful bombshells dropped every few minutes,” Khons agrees.

They’re all quiet for a long moment, and…Daz can’t help but agree.

And then Raine asks, oh-so-innocently, “Do I get whatever the fuck a real claim is to you now?”

He sputters, “I– what?!”

A little smirk is on his friend’s lips as he explains, “Given you literally thought doing that would kill me, I can’t really blame you for your– whatever you’ve been pretending they are? But, well, now we know you’re not cursed. So it’s safe, right? And as your best friend, if anyone deserves a claim from you…”

Daz stares at him, and then Lee says, “I already wanted to give you something. Are you reaaaaaally gonna reject it and break my heart, huh?”

The idea sends a current of icy fear through him. He knows better than anyone at this table the effects of rejecting an admin’s claim.

He…he can’t do that to Lee. Not when there’s not a good reason to do that.

Throat tight, he nods.

It’s still terrifying to accept love, let alone give it out. He’s spend so long convinced that doing so was a death sentence, after all– that fear can’t vanish overnight.

But maybe…maybe he can try.

[infinitethree]

Day sits at the meeting table of the secret cabal hidden right under his nose, trying not to scream.

Instead of that entirely justified reaction, he presses his hands firmly against one another and stares, unblinking, at the ringleaders of this absolute bullshit.

Aster can’t meet his gaze, which is the correct response.

Daz, though, is staring back at him as if daring him to do something about his anger.

“So, in summary,” he finally says, feeling a twitch in his eye and wings, “the two of you have been keeping the bombshell secret of Daz being actually an asshole–”

“Aster did try to tell you, but you ignored him,” Daz interrupts, seemingly unfazed by Day’s anger.

He glares harder at him. “You know exactly what I fuckin’ mean. You lied to the server, to my family, to Lee–”

Said son protests, “They told me mostly willingly! And despite his copious bullshit, Daz has done a lot of good for the server. He's been teaching me–”

“Which he's able to do because he was a genuine protege. One who is infinitely more competent than he claimed to be.”

Daz smiles, technically, though really it's more of a toothy grimace. As if he's trying to head something off at the pass, he says, “My former mentor betrayed me. I'm good, but I'm not faking that monstrosity in my code kind of good.”

Day levels him with a look. Daz glowers back and snaps, “If I had a choice about any of this, we wouldn't be having this fuckin’ conversation.”

See, that's the problem.

The rest, Day could be– not exactly happy about, but at least somewhat understanding of.

However.

Daz tried to use Theo as his tool to kill himself. That would have crushed his son in a dozen ways, including and especially damaging his relationship with Lee.

“You are on such thin fuckin’ ice with me,” Day warns.

A bark of half-hysterical laughter comes from Daz. “Yeah? Then pull the trigger, old man. I'll even hand over the code I already wrote.”

Daz leans forward, a sickeningly hopeful light in his eyes as he tells him, “I'm an asshole, not a complete monster. I made sure my death would look like a suicide. Nobody outside this room will know the truth.”

A chill goes down his spine as Daz opens his console and sends something.

His own console is forced open– something Daz shouldn't know how to do– and a long string of code scrolls past.

…Shit. He’s completely neutered one of Day's biggest points of anger with him in quite possibly the most horrifying way possible.

Theo reaches over and grabs his arm in an iron grip. “I'm not fuckin’ happy with him either, but–”

His youngest shoots to his feet, expression murderous. “I'll never forgive you,” he warns.

Fuck, Lee's breathing is shaky and he’s on the verge of tears. As Day is scrambling to process this, the first to react is…Daz.

The subject of his ire gets out of his seat, kneels down, and smiles with almost painstaking kindness at Day's youngest.

“It’s for the best. I'm a good actor, and you have a big heart. But, Lee…the truth is that I'm cursed. Everyone I care about suffers; everyone who loves me dies. The death isn't always literal. An ocean of pain and misery lies in my wake. I'm a dangerous, broken, failure of an admin.”

Taking Lee’s hands in both of his, Daz keeps smiling. “I was raised so badly that I repressed my admin traits until it formed its own person. Innit has hated you from the first moment it saw you. I repressed it again after it sent me into that sleep deprivation coma in its attempts to get me to kill you. But…I had to set it free again. It wants Sanctuary to burn.”

Day sucks in a sharp gasp at that revelation.

Repressing such a fundamental part of himself is unthinkable. Shit; no wonder Daz is so twisted.

As if remembering the rest of them are there, Daz’s eyes flick over to Day.

The smile he makes is chilling.

“The rest of the Dreams, though…I mean. I planned to kill you with little remorse. I figured, hey– best case scenario? I take out a dozen or so Dreams before I get executed. A Dream is a Dream is a Dream– all of whom are venomous snakes waiting to strike.”

That smile has yet to fade. “That’s the kind of person I really am. Save your pity and mercy for someone who deserves it. I'm a threat to you; I'm a threat to Sanctuary. Just one more monster to slay…one who got dangerously close to doing serious damage.”

Oh, he wildly underestimated the level of fucked up that this kid has been operating under.

Even after Aster and Lee told him, it didn't really sink in until now.

Lee, through his tears, suddenly grits out, “Restrain him.”

Day opens his mouth to argue, but Lee gives him a look he can't quite understand that makes him stand down.

There's no resistance as Day grabs Daz. The kid– and, by Day's standards, he is a kid– has a look of such naked relief on his face that Day might actually have nightmares about this.

Lee says, “Everyone.”

Quietly, without even a hint of struggle, Daz murmurs, “I won’t fight it. It's long overdue, anyway.”

Aster breaks from his spell next, frow burrowed and expression troubled, joins Day. Theo is only a beat behind him with an almost disturbed look in his eyes.

Instead of confronting Daz, though, Lee turns on his heel and goes to the corner of the room.

Daz's relief abruptly turns to panic when Lee snatches up what looks like a black ball.

Oh, okay, Day becomes abruptly aware Lee wanted three of the strongest people on the server to hold this one, seemingly pretty scrawny kid in place.

Maybe it’s because he's an admin, maybe it's just his build, maybe it’s his panic– but whatever the case, Daz is making this a hell of a lot harder than Day expected.

“Aster you fuckin’ traitor, do your fuckin’ job! The absolute last fuckin’ thing we can afford is for–”

Aster slaps a hand over his mouth, his own in a grim line.

As Daz struggles more desperately, Lee marches back until he's a few steps away.

Day's youngest looks down at the thing in his hands. “Is Daz right that he's cursed?”

The thing gets shaken and turned around.

Day sees that it must be some kind of toy, because a little dice thing rolls to say Don’t count on it.

Clearly, though, Day is missing some context, because Daz suddenly slumps like he's lost his will to fight.

Lee glares at him. “You’re an idiot. You literally have this– why did you never ask?!”

Aster moves his hand away as Daz, expression confused, says, “But…it was so obvious. It didn't seem worth wasting a question on.”

“I'm gonna need a fuckin’ explanation why the Fates're freaking out about divine intervention,” Theo sighs.

It's Aster who answers. “Among the perks of our first deal with the Scribe is a way to ask them questions. That's our conduit. It, uh…it looks like a toy, but it's not. There's limitations and we have to interpret whatever answer we get, but…it's a direct line to them.”

They've had that powerful a tool this entire fucking time?!

Theo asks, “Can we, uh, let go now? Kinda seems like the thing got fuckin’ done.”

Lee nods, and all three of them warily step back from Daz.

The kid looks…lost, almost.

“I don't understand,” he says, brow furrowed. “If I'm not cursed, then…why does everyone around me suffer?”

Sweet fucking Prime, Day is going to switch his therapist to Iatros to make sure Daz works through his shit.

Obviously, his existing one is able to be lied to enough that Daz hasn't had to do his therapy correctly.

Great. One of the most powerful people on the server is a ticking time bomb, and everyone close to him was too stupid to realize it.

That said…as much as Day is pissed off at Daz for his actions and how they would have devastated his sons?

He feels a distressing sort of empathy for him.

An admin who feels like a complete and utter failure, destroying himself bit by bit in a quest to protect those he cares about– shit, that might as well be describing Day!

At least, the old him. The him before he opened up to his kids, to Iatros. Before he was guided from being self-destructive to the point of ruin.

And…for whatever reason, Daz’s chosen person seems to be Lee.

Day can’t help but look around at the room they’re in. He has a vague idea of the coords, and they’re stupidly far out from anything. With all the blackstone, San would never have had a clue they were there…assuming they were smart about making this place.

Given how meticulous even Daz’s fake persona has been, Day suspects that’s the case.

He sighs, and puts a wing over the suddenly much younger-seeming Daz’s shoulder.

“I’m guessing I don’t know even half of what actually happened to you, but the answer remains the same. Sometimes shit just happens. You can’t stop it, or predict it–”

Daz turns to look at him, scoffing softly. “I undermined Dream’s mental health until he was completely dependent on me. Our base had a blackstone tile floor. He wouldn’t have been exposed to it if we hadn’t gone off on our own. I was the one who pushed for putting enchantments in people; I was the one who wrote half of that code. I was the one who–”

Expression twisting, Daz clutches his wrist. Day recalls that he usually wears a cuff, which is…oddly absent.

So are other claims, he realizes. Daz must have stripped them off before he came here.

“Dream called Tubbo over. He ordered me to kill him. I didn’t have time to fight it, so I just–”

Like he’s in a trance, Daz reaches out and then jabs his hand forward as though he’s piercing something with a sword.

Daz’s hands fall to his lap. “I had to bury my best friend. The only person who gave a shit about me for most of my life died, because of what I did. Because…because I didn’t want Dream to abandon me. Because he was everything I ever wanted, everything I ever needed, and the idea of him turning his back on me like everyone but Tubbo had…it was unbearable.”

Gods, that’s– pretty fucking tragic. It’s not hard to see where the belief that he’s cursed would start.

He exhales softly and pulls Daz into a full hug. There’s only a moment where he tenses, and then Daz burrows into it like he needs it.

He probably does.

Like he does with his sons, he cards a hand through the kid’s hair. Daz presses his head up into it like a cat, the rest of him going boneless.

“Was it fucked up you did that? Yeah. But you’re in the company of plenty of others who did shitty things, you know.”

Daz mumbles, “I was planning to murder you in cold blood.” “Yeah, well– we have infinite lives here. As much as I’m not thrilled you wanted to, I can’t exactly be the thought police. Especially with everything involving– Innit.”

That name makes Daz flinch. “I didn’t have a choice but to let it out again. That was my second deal– Innit’s freedom in exchange for the ability for all of us to hear each other’s questions if we’re nearby. Lee’s, too.”

It seems disproportionate.

And then Daz tells him, “There had been too many instances of Observers being malicious or hurtful. I needed us to be able to hear if they said something cruel and mitigate potential damage. Everything I’ve done is– if Lee isn’t okay, then everything I’ve done is for nothing.”

The word is said with bitter emphasis, and Day winces at the way he’s seeing even more of how he used to be in Daz.

What a trainwreck this is. He folds his wings tighter around the kid and gets a soft laugh. “I don’t deserve your sympathy, but…this is nice. Maybe this is what Phil’s hugs would have been like. I don’t think I ever got one.”

Ah, well, that gives plenty of clues of where Daz’s trauma started from.

“I’ve hugged you before,” Theo protests, finally saying something to them instead of focusing on his quiet back-and-forth with Aster and Lee. 

Daz scoffs, “Not the same. None of the…dad energy.” “Still!” “It’s kind of sad you’re trying to be clingy with the guy who tried to use you to commit suicide.” “You’re not the first fuckin’ guy I’ve seen at rock bottom.”

The guy is quiet at that.

Eventually, Daz sighs. “I…can we do the rest of the explanation later? I don’t– I don’t think I can handle that right now.”

He pauses, and then adds, “And I need to clean up the stuff I left out. If Raine sees it, he’ll have a heart attack.”

Aster says, “You can make hoodies for him now that you know it won’t kill him.” “I do not need your opinions on literally anything related to me,” Daz snaps.

Wincing and looking away, Aster replies, “I’ve explained myself as much as I can. I’m still sorry– I never wanted this.”

There’s a bitter note in Daz’s voice. “Greedy asshole.” “I was already going to give you the wish. I wouldn’t be able to use it well, anyway.”

Theo inhales, likely to ask something, but Daz shakes his head. “Not right now. I need some time to just– process this.”

…Yeah, Day is pretty sure they all do.

“Alright. We can discuss the next steps in a day or two,” Day sighs.

It’ll do him good to get all of this straight in his head, too.

[infinitethree]

It doesn’t take long for the others to show up, but Aster can’t stand to sit.

When Lee teleports in– mod powers are handy for that sort of thing, he supposes– he braces his hands on the table.

“Good, we’re all here.”

Raine frowns, pointing out, “Daz isn’t–” “This is about Daz.”

They all tense, likely bracing for him having been pushed too far. They’re not wrong, but won’t even begin to suspect why.

“Yesterday, the Scribe showed up and made me a deal. Evidently they don’t– like that asshole much. They wanted the spotlight to shine on someone else or something– I don’t remember their wording. They told me they wanted to tell me his secrets and shake things up. In exchange…I was promised a wish. A single wish that defies the laws of reality– a wish I can give away, if I so choose.”

He laughs, hearing an edge of hysteria to it. “I thought– fuck, for something that powerful, he might resent me a little. But he’d understand. I thought he’d be more pissed if I refused out of some sense of nobility. I was sure it was just– something whispered in my ear.”

“I’m guessin’ you were wrong,” Aleph says.

He shoves a hand through his hair as he starts pacing again. “I was so fucking wrong. I get– I see what happened to him. Sometimes in third person like a movie, but more often…I’m in his head. I see through his eyes, I hear his thoughts. If I thought for a second it’d be like that, I never would have agreed. I knew I fucked up the second I realized what it would be like.”

It’s Raine who gives the most obvious and correct reaction of going ashen. “He’s not going to take this well.”

“I told him earlier today. The Observers were there, I couldn’t risk them ratting me out first,” Aster admits. “You’re right– he took it badly. He called me a–.”

He gets a brief flash of Daz snarling at his ex-mentor, “I hope you’re fucking happy with yourself. Liar. Monster. Traitor.”

Nothing is worse than a traitor. I’d rather die than betray my loved ones.

I thought you, of all people, understood that about me by now.

He's back again, frazzled that he has a better idea of why those words were flung at him. He collapses into his usual chair. His gaze is trained at the ceiling as he mumbles, “...Fuck. That– that’s about the worst way that could’ve gone, huh?” 

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he has to take a moment to center himself at the realization that he’s cut Daz deeper than he ever fathomed he was capable of being hurt.

Khons asks, “What did he call you? You cut yourself off. I’m…guessing you saw something?”

“Traitor. And, to him, betrayal is an unforgivable sin.”

Exhaustion makes him feel like he’s made of lead. 

You know, he can’t remember the last time he cried. He's not sure if even Dream was able to make him do that.

But this? He's teetering on the edge of bawling. The feeling of guilt and fatigue and resentment and– if he wants to be far more honest than Daz has ever been– fear.

He's always known Daz is fucked up. How could he not, when the bastard occasionally says things that it would take his therapist months to unpack?

Not that he actually does his therapy honestly, of course.

All of this, though? This is so much worse than he ever thought possible.

He feels a hand on his arm, and Lee asks, visibly concerned, “Should we…what do you want us to do?”

Aster’s head tilts to look at the fulcrum his life pivots around. Everything he's done for years, especially dealing with that bastard's bullshit, has been for the sake of protecting this person.

Quietly, he says, “I don't know. But I can't keep some of these secrets. Not when I don't know how to deal with him.”

He straightens and scrubs a hand down his face. “He believes he's cursed. That everyone he loves suffers, and anyone who loves him dies.”

There's another scene he's shown. It seems like Daz is sitting in his sewing room, staring at the sketch of a hoodie in front of him and panicking.

He's a useful ally, and my allies need to be treated well. I don’t cherish him. I don’t claim him. I don’t love him. He’s not mine, he's not, this was just– I was trying to make him more comfortable–

Ally, he's an ally, he's nothing more. If he thinks he loves me, he's wrong. He likes the person I act like, not me.

The curse can't claim him. If he knew me, if he knew my heart, he'd be disgusted. They all would.

I'm a monster who's fooled them for years. It's not their fault they're easy to lie to.

He realizes with numb horror that Daz is trying to justify having made a sketch of a hoodie for Raine as it being useful, instead of something done out of care.

The jewelry is just because it's expected. If I don't have or give anything, it's suspicious.

It's not a claim. That isn't what a claim from me looks like. I didn’t make it. I won’t make this, either.

I can't afford to lose him. Because he's useful, and for no other reason.

I don't care. The curse has no reason to affect him.

“Aster?!”

Lee sounds terrified. It takes him longer than it should to realize it's because he's started crying.

He croaks, “Raine, he– you know him best. What…can we even do? He can’t keep doing this. He has to justify– fuck, any sign of care of affection has to be excused as being useful, otherwise he thinks it'll get that person killed.”

Raine’s hand goes to his earring, brow furrowed with concern. Lee gasps, “But if he thinks he's cursed, wouldn't– wouldn't Raine be in danger–?”

“He makes justifications for why it wouldn't. But he’s…fuck! He almost had a panic attack over a drawing of a hoodie, because he was afraid it would be dangerous.”

Recognition flashes in Raine's eyes. “He shoved sketches, notes, and money at me one Christmas and told me my present was to stop pissing him off by being obviously uncomfortable. I brought them to Make It Sew, and Aver eventually took over the visit. From what I hear, he wound up incorporating bits of it in other designs.”

Raine's fingers run over the embroidery on his hoodie. “I thought he was just being awkward and stubborn. It was– it meant a lot that he bothered to do something like that at all. They’re a lot more comfortable than the old ones.”

Quietly, Aster says, “I think he wanted to make them. But…I'm pretty sure that something like that would be an actual, uh– claim.”

Lee jolts. “Actual? What, so– what he has now, he doesn't think of those as claims?!”

It makes his heart ache, and he hates that he feels so awful for Daz despite what he's done.

“...Not fully. Or maybe he's lying to himself about that, too–”

His charge turns ashen.

The ten year old's wings poof up with distress as he grabs Aster’s arm in a surprisingly strong grip. “He can’t not have claims, Aster! Admins– claims are sacred, they’re–! Without claims, without proof of our bonds, we're nothing!”

Ah. Lee understands this, doesn't he? He understands the underlying admin shit in a way Aster can’t.

He asks, feeling bad he has to rely on and likely upset Lee further, “What would happen if an admin abandoned a claim because they felt unworthy? And then burned the remaining one?”

Lee shoot to his feet, opening his console. His expression is dark and his eyes are flinty with determination.

“Lee? What are you–” “The Council, Daz’s real self– those are secrets I'm willing to keep. But not this. Not when I know someone who's done so much for me and mine is suffering. I'm calling Dad.”

Raine shoots to his feet in alarm. “That’s not a good–” Lee snaps, “Dad, out of everyone in Sanctuary, will understand this. This level of fucked up trauma responses and keeping explosive secrets that slowly kill them to protect others– they're exactly the fuckin’ same!”

They're all quiet. Aster, over the years, has gotten pretty close to Day.

The man has been through hell, but smiles and savors his time with his loved ones.

Day will be horrified to know that someone so important to Sanctuary, another admin at that, has quietly been broken and living in fear this entire time.

Lee is right; Day might not be thrilled he's been deceived, but the reasons for it will soothe that displeasure.

If nothing else, Daz’s core purpose being to protect Lee will skyrocket his estimation in the father's eyes.

He nods. “I think you're right. Day will be able to put pressure on him to get help.” Taking a deep breath, he continues, “And I'll shoulder his resentment and hatred. Even if he never forgives me– he can’t keep living like this.”

“I don't disagree. I've never liked that he’s not actually doing his therapy. But…I'm not sure this is the right move,” Khons sighs.

Aster has to start pacing again. “You don't understand. He's– he's broken, Khons. I don’t like him as a person, but knowing just how fucked up he actually is…? I can't let this go on. Not if I ever want to sleep or look at myself in the mirror again.”

A long, tired sigh comes from Aleph. “Dragging Day into it, though…”

He turns to face them and is aware he sounds faintly hysterical as he tells them, “The two of them are too alike in too many ways– especially the worst one!”

Tears well up again as he confesses, “Daz kept pissing me off on purpose. If he ever went too far, or if his– his fucking curse manifested…? He needed me to be able to kill him without hesitation. I was his fucking trump card against himself. I don’t know what he'll do once he works through his breakdown. I’m terrified he’ll decide he’s become too much of a risk and he needs to die. He's chosen death before and–”

His sight is hijacked to show him another scene.

Daz yanks his arm away from Dream, looking around at the empty field he's been brought to. He warily asks, “What are we here for?”

“When Tubbo gets here, kill him.”

A pain far more agonizing than any flesh wound rips through Daz. Is this what his enchantment felt like– why Day was so distraught after seeing it?

Fuck, Aster’s was miserable, but this–

This, it’s like his soul is being ripped apart. It’s searing pain that Aster would struggle to even speak through, but Daz manages to do so.

“You can’t– you can’t, please, Dream, why–?!”

Dream makes a soothing noise as Daz sobs, pulling him into his arms and stroking his hair.

Horrifyingly, the pain eases ever so slightly– like the enchantment is somewhat appeased by the fact that Dream is right there.

Gods, no wonder Daz fucking hates this bastard. Soul erosion or no, this is…

“You’ll understand eventually,” Dream murmurs, voice gentle– as if he’s not doing something fucking monstrous.

Hope dying and heart shattering, Daz brokenly whispers, “Please.”

“It’ll be over soon, then nobody can hurt you again.”

The hideous hypocrisy of that is evident even to Aster, spectator that he is. If the goal was to protect Daz…

Well. He knows how this ultimately ended– that Daz had chosen to die, before he was rescued.

…Aster wonders if, in a world where the T3 never showed up…Daz got his perfect, brutal, pyrrhic victory.

He watches as Daz is given no time to try and find a way out, and then–

He has to watch as Daz kills his best friend.

The way everything inside of him rots in moments is utterly chilling.

This is the single worst moment of Daz’s life. And Aster hears as whoever he had been before this horrible, brutal event dies, leaving behind a rotting corpse.

He’s yanked away again, this time to a flower field. Daz stares up at the clouds, seeming at peace.

Tubbo is at his side, laughing and making dumb jokes– the sort of jokes that Aster’s Tubbo would have made, too.

And then the wind changes. Voice still cheerful, Tubbo hums, “Yeah…it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Hmm? What is?”

Daz turns, and then reels in horror as blood spills from Tubbo’s mouth and a gaping wound in his chest. “The life you got after you killed me.”

“I didn’t–! I never wanted that, not for a second–!” “But you don’t think about me. I know, deep down, you’re glad that I was the only price you had to pay to get such a cushy life, bossman.”

Tubbo’s face rapidly decays, maggots devouring his flesh in a way that makes Aster want to hurl.

“But the thing is– I’m glad to be free of you. Sucks that I had to die to finally be free of your stupid, cruel, clingy ways, but, I mean– better than whatever hell I’d have been through if I stayed alive!”

Daz hyperventilates, sobbing, “I’d give it up, I’d give it all up, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

Skeletal hands reach out and wrap around Daz’s throat. Daz doesn’t fight it as they squeeze so hard that his own bones creak.

“Then die. As long as you die here, I never have to deal with you in my death. If you’re really sorry, you’ll die. You’re a worthless monster who poisons everything you touch! You’d do them all a favor, you selfish coward!”

Maybe if I die, I can repent properly, Daz thinks, as Tubbo’s hands turn into maggots that eat him alive.

Daz startles awake. He’s panting, soaked in sweat…but he doesn’t scream.

The guy blearily looks at his clock.

2 am, he thinks, eyes squeezing shut in despair. That wasn’t even two hours. At this rate, I’m gonna slip up.

Still he rises from his bed and makes his way downstairs. Daz reflects, How many hours is that this week…? Less than six?

Fuck, I miss being able to sleep. The last time I slept well was before he betrayed me. I hate that I wish I could have someone right there like that. It’s stupid, and selfish…and I don’t deserve it.

Kindness is wasted on me. I’m a broken cup; no matter how much is poured in, it all leaks out.

If I asked, they’d sit there and stroke my hair while I slept. But it’s too dangerous for them…and I deserve the misery, anyway.

When Aster realizes he’s got control of his body again, he scrambles to the bathroom to dry heave.

He hasn’t eaten much since this all started, and anything that had been in his stomach before was already expelled earlier.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, everything about this is miserable! Seeing how Aster’s loathing of Daz was always a distant second to Daz’s own self-hatred only underscores just how thoroughly he fooled them.

And seeing the moment Tubbo was killed– shit, no fucking wonder he calls himself a black hole or void sometimes!

Come hell or high water, he’s going to drag that broken, mangled wreck of a guy into kicking and screaming into his goddamned healing arc.

So fucking help him, he will not sit back and watch Daz self-immolate in a fucked up attempt at penance and protection.

[infinitethree]

Lee’s wings visibly twitch as he feels the presence of the Observers return.

At his side, Daz clicks his tongue softly. “It must no longer count as Council business, then,” he sighs, a frown tugging at his mouth.

It’s weird to see him so serious. Logically, he knows that this is the real Daz– or at least realer than he’s ever been for Lee before.

That doesn’t stop it from feeling like he’s peering into the uncanny valley when he looks at him.

Daz studies him, and a faint smile rises up. “Alright, kid. Ready to learn some admin secrets?”

Honestly, Lee wants nothing more than to learn what other secrets Daz has. He can tell that whatever he’s going to learn…this is important.

That’s why the other Council members are in other rooms. The two of them are in the hidden…lounge…thing? That can only be reached by breaking two specific blocks and climbing up into a hidden passageway.

It’s paranoid as hell, and it reminds Lee of his Dad.

Bouncing a little in his seat, he nods enthusiastically.

Daz seems pleased by the enthusiasm, but mostly keeps a straight face. “Good. So…” he leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. Lee automatically mimics the pose, his curiosity cresting nearly painfully.

“Mobs love their admins. Mobs won't intentionally hurt their admins, not without provocation. Well…outside of a select few cases. Don't try to talk to a wither, that doesn't go well.”

He frowns. “That can't be right– Dad and Lucid would have noticed.”

There's a soft huff, and Daz explains, “They never were so deeply, cripplingly lonely that they started talking to mobs. They had San, after all, even if somehow the server didn't have other players.”

That…would be true, he guesses. It does make sense in that light.

“But I've seen hostile mobs attack them.” “I don't know if Day clocks as an admin any more, and for Lucid…are you sure they attacked first? Or were they just getting close, and Lucid attacked them? Because if they're attacked, of course they'll retaliate. If they're going to die either way, they'll adhere to their normal instincts.”

Fuck, he can’t say for sure. He'll have to pay closer attention in the future.

“Some mobs, though? They're more than just that. Some mobs are smart– smarter than some players, even! They have their own languages, cultures, and customs.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, vaguely aware his wings are fluttering in surprise. “But why hasn't anyone–?”

Daz tilts his head to the side. “Why haven't you?”

The question echoes the way his dad will try to make him figure something out on his own.

It's super weird to notice the similarities between his Dad and Daz.

With a sigh, he answers, “Nobody thought it was possible, so nobody considered it.”

From the smile Daz has, that seems to be the answer he was looking for. “And when nobody suspects something, their ignorance is the best smokescreen.”

Another sigh escapes him. He's getting a little more used to the real Daz, but it's still unsettling to see him like this.

“Now,” Daz says, “Knowing that there are two mobs who are unique, which ones do you think they are?”

Immediately, Lee answers, “Villagers, obviously.” “Nope.” “No?!” “They’re more complex than, say, a zombie, but not enough to truly consider intelligent.”

He has to consider it. What mobs act abnormally?

It doesn't seem like it would be outright hostile mobs, but he could be wrong. But purely passive ones don't quite feel right, either. And if it was a culture, surely they must lump together in large groups…

Ah.

He straightens up and says, “Piglins. Attie says they're always respectful and appreciative if he gives them more than just gold ingots. They have homes, too, with bastions…and San wouldn’t be able to see inside those too easily.”

Daz grins at him, seeming pleased he figured it out. “Yep. That's where one of my secondary sources of income is from, actually. I have deals with several bastions for ancient debris. I give them gold and overworld goodies in exchange. I'll take you on one of my meetups next time. They…”

Unexpectedly, a wistful expression crosses his face. “They’re good folk. They'll be overjoyed to have an admin and a half who know how special they are.”

From the way he's talking, and a nudge from his weird sixth sense, Lee says, “You like them, don't you?”

“...They were friends, back on my original server. It was lonely so far out– not that I had many people who wanted to see me, anyway. Dream told me they were smart, so I…started going to local bastions. I learned their language, their customs…” Daz trails off, brow furrowing faintly.

“And?” “...That's a story for another time,” Daz sighs. “For now– tell me the other mob that has true intelligence.”

Lee huffs, aware that he’s not going to get Daz to budge if he doesn’t want to.

If the big clues for Piglins were being clustered together and having homes, what else fits?

Wardens do have homes, sort of, in ancient cities, but they’re kind of weird and definitely not clustered together. And also extremely hostile, at least to most players. Maybe it’s different for admins, but…that still doesn’t feel quite right.

Witches are also pretty solitary, and it’s not villagers, so…what other mobs have a structure linked to them?

…Wait.

“...Endermen?”

Daz hums, face giving nothing away. “Why do you think it’s them?” “They’re not in them, but the End has cities, they’re always found in groups, and a little bit because they’re neutral but can become hostile if you don’t follow their ‘rules’.”

Another pleased smile forms. “That’s mostly correct. Not sure what the deal is with them and cities, honestly? But…yeah, endfolk are a stickler for their rules. Speaking of which!” He narrows his eyes, and points at Lee. “Do not approach any endfolk on your own. They have complicated, delicate customs and social networks, and you can very literally and without hyperbole start a war by saying or doing the wrong thing. If you fuck up, dozens to hundreds of sentient, sapient beings might die. You’ll need training just to be able to shadow a meeting with them. Piglins are much, much more forgiving. While endfolk might give you some slight leeway for being a small god, that won’t get you far if you piss a group off. Their grudges run long and deep, Achilles, and they will have no issue targeting you and yours for failure to follow their rules.”

He swallows, shrinking back a little at the idea. Even if he might have gotten curious and done it before, hearing exactly what that might lead to has killed any desire to jump the gun. “Okay.”

Daz studies him for a long moment, and then exhales in clear relief. “Good. They’re tricky to deal with, but…” A faint sparkle enters his eyes, and he adds, “but, well– if you can pull it off, it’s very profitable. Elytras are easy to sell…or easy to pretend to buy.”

Lee’s jaw drops. “You’re– where does the money go? You can’t be pocketing it, right–?” “Why not? Genuine elytras obtained through hard work are still being put into the hands of new players. The person who did that hard work is being paid.” “Wh– but it’s an unfair advantage! You’re just– you’re cheating!”

The other potential admin rolls his eyes. “I’m using skills that I put considerable effort into learning and/or are innate to me, the same as Orph and his music or Attie and his jewelry. I’m honestly at much more risk doing things like this than just going to hunting for cities myself. But that also takes time, and I’m running desperately low on that as it is. Ultimately, it’s not my fault nobody else considered that endfolk or piglins are capable of making deals like this. I’m not going to apologize for using whatever tools and skills are at my disposal to their fullest.”

He groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Prime, I kinda get why Aster thinks you’re a dick.” “And he’s a sanctimonious idiot who, despite all the shit he’s been through, still thinks the best of others.” “That doesn’t–” “Also, he sees his original Dream in me. Plus he’s so fucking pissy that he was the only one who caught onto what I’m really like. Hell, several people defended me when he tried to warn them!”

For several long moments, Lee studies him. A vibe forms, and he says, “You see your original Dream in him, too, don’t you?”

Daz startles a little, and then laughs without any humor. “Fucking vibes, huh?”

It’s not a yes, but it’s not a no. It seems like it would be easy for Daz to just lie about it, but he doesn’t seem to want to do that.

Interesting.

“What about him is the same?” “I don’t want to get into that,” Daz sighs. “I feel like it’s important–” Tone firmer, Daz states, “Drop it.”

Some innate alarm bell warns him that disregarding this won’t end nicely, so he reluctantly concedes. “...Fine. Okay, so– Piglins and enderm– endfolk, are both waaaay more advanced that anyone else knew. What other magical admin secrets do you have?”

Daz blinks at him, and tells him, “Admins needs claims to function. A claim can be anything from a token to a charm to a pair of glasses, but it’s preferable if it’s worn. Claims act as a way to reinforce their bond with a person precious to them and a warning sign to others. Rejecting or taking back a claim is tantamount to rejecting the associated admin; a symbolic gesture that signifies that they are no longer worthy of that bond. Conversely, reciprocating the bond with an item in return expresses the opposite, that the claimed person is claiming the admin back.”

That…sounds an awful lot like the jewelry Attie makes. But Attie isn’t an admin, and he makes jewelry for everyone. “Isn’t that just normal, though? The giving gifts thing, I mean. Everyone does that.”

“In Sanctuary, sure. But even that started from an admin. Your dad might have traded his spark, but the instincts likely remain. From what I’ve heard from Atlas, the jewelry was subtly and unconsciously encouraged, until he took it upon himself to develop a formal system for it. Once in Sanctuary, it bloomed into a server-wide custom. As far as I can tell, your dad and Lucid have no idea that it’s just a normal admin thing.”

Lee makes a face. “Are you sure? It seems weird to–” “Imagine what it would feel like if Aster gave back his earring.”

The very idea is like a punch to the gut. Something deep inside of him screams at the concept, and he doesn’t even realize he’s having a panic attack until Daz is hugging him. “Shh, hey– it’s not real, I was just using an example. That stubborn bastard would literally die before he gave up his earring. But that’s my point– non-admins don’t feel that strongly. They might be hurt, but they wouldn’t freak out over just the idea of it. Claims are an innate part of us, just like flying is to avians or being stubborn is to Tommys.”

The hand rubbing his back, carefully running underneath his wings so they aren’t pinned down, is enough to calm him down. The way that Daz is further explaining it is soothing; his tone, his gentleness, even the tension in his body.

He’s worried that I’m so upset, he thinks, and feels weirdly relieved about it.

Despite his evident intelligence and capacity to manipulate and lie, Daz is distressed just by Lee being so out of sorts.

He wraps his arms around Daz, making him pause. Slowly, a hand goes to his head, and the other admin carefully cards a hand through his hair.

It feels a lot like when his Dad or Theo or even Aster does it. Every past experience has taught him that this means comfort and protection and safety.

With a soft, shuddering sigh, he wraps his wings around Daz and leans more against him. Daz tells him, “I didn’t think it would get under your skin that badly. I’m sorry. I guess I just…forgot how bad it is.”

That’s right; Daz knows this because he has the same instinct. Then…from how he said that, he’s had claims be rejected before?

“Who would hurt you like that?” “...I don’t think that’s a good topic for right now. Everything is still a lot, yeah? So let’s hold off that particular distressing chat for another time. I know you’ll probably learn about it eventually, but…now you know the important parts that relate to you,” Daz tells him.

Fair enough. 

Daz continues, “Admins get attached to things and to people much more intensely than non-admins. We can’t help it; it’s a part of who we are. I’m pretty sure it’s because we need to love the server we end up becoming admins in, but it’s not like I can call up a god who can explain that.”

Might not have a direct line to a god, but you have something even better!

Lee flinches at the sound of that voice, already wary of the problems it can cause. He heard enough from the Council to never want to encounter it again.

Aww, kid…you look so tense! Hah, you’re gonna be so fucking obvious the second you spot any of them outside of here. I mean, pfft…you might as well just announce to everyone that there’s something sus about them!

He looks up at Daz, whose expression gives nothing away. “I’m aware of that; it’s on the agenda. Thank you for your warning, Scribe. Is there anything I can help you with?”

There’s a soft scoff. You’re no fun.

A pleasant but still chilly smile curls up on the other admin’s lips. “But not boring, right?”

…No, not boring. Now that you’re actually taking fucking action again instead of having a string of panic attacks in a corner–

Daz was having panic attacks?

–you’ve actually made things interesting again. So interesting, in fact, that I’ll give you a little…boon.

Those bright cyan eyes crinkle as Daz’s smile grows. “That’s awfully kind of you.”

Uhg, save the fakeness for someone who doesn’t know you backwards, forwards, and inside out. Anyway, your boon is this; one of the Observers has been tattling to Day and Lucid about admin shit. If you keep making things fun, I might see fit to give you more info.

The smile drops, like he’s taken the statement to heart, or maybe like he’s just that unhappy with that knowledge. “I’m going to guess that I have to go big for you to bother doing that.”

The Scribe coos, Aww, you already know me so well! The frequency of quality of info is gonna depend on how much I like shit that happens because of your actions. 

Daz nods, rolling his shoulders. “Understood. If there’s nothing else you need me for, I need to prep Lee on how to lie effectively. We don’t have forever, after all; he’s gonna have to go home soon.”

A cackling laugh makes Lee shudder. No, no…this has been fun. I approve of the chessboard you’ve set up. I’ll take my leave…for now.

As Lee gets to his feet, the unseen entity murmurs, Just remember that there’s always another person, just as smart as you, who can provide entertainment. So don’t disappoint me, Daz. You won’t like the price of failure.

Despite the Scribe having left, that warning has left the room feeling frigid. Daz shows no outward sign of how he’s feeling– likely because he’s good at acting– but the vibes tell him one thing with absolute certainty.

Daz knows exactly what the Scribe meant, and he’s terrified of whatever threat was just made.

[infinitethree]

Both Day and Lucid seem doubtful of that. “That’s just normal, everyone does that. I don’t think that’s an admin thing. And, besides– the jewelry started with Atlas,” Day states.

He hears a familiar patter of footsteps as Lucid agrees, “I mean, we would have noticed if it was that weird, right? And I’m still not really convinced that admins really have instincts like you’re claiming–”

Lee pauses at the top of the stairs, an odd expression on his face.

“Something wrong?” Lucid opens his mouth at Day's question, and then turns to look at the youngest Was-Taken family member.

Brow furrowing, Lee asks slowly, “Admin instincts?”

Day nods. “We got a new observer insisting we have them, but Lucid and I are pretty sure–”

“No, that sounds right.”

Lee hops up on the edge of the counter instead of a stool, and lightly swings his feet. “I mean…I didn’t really think about it, or anything? It seemed normal to me. But, uh, the vibes are in agreement with that Observer.”

He stares at his son, and is vaguely aware Lucid is staring, too. “That…I mean, they’ve been right about weirder things, but…”

Humming softly, Lee asks, “Okay, so…what did they say, exactly? Like, they must’ve given examples, right?”

“Something about claims, that we give people things as a form of affection,” Lucid replies.

Lee’s legs still, and he seems like he’s focusing intently. “...Is that not normal?” “That’s what we said,” Day sighs, running a hand over his braids.

“I mean…it seems like the normal thing to do, but the vibes agree…and we kinda are the worst ones to figure that out,” Lee points out. “Probably the only worse lineup would be if Daz was added into the mix.”

Day winces at the mention of the guy. He’s not sure he wants to bring up that Daz is going to be trained alongside him, to be honest. “Yeah, probably.”

A mint green com with an elaborately embroidered case– a gift from Aver, naturally– is withdrawn. Lee scrolls through it, and pulls up a contact. “We’re not gonna figure it out on our own, so…”

After only a few rings, a familiar, slightly monotone voice comes through. “Lee? Is something wrong?”

A smile creeps up as Lee tells Aster, “Nah, nothing’s really wrong. But, uh, Dad and Lucid got a weird Observer that says admins have instincts and stuff. The vibes agree, though, so we’re trying to understand it better.” “...Okay? I’m not sure how I can help, but…”

Lee grimaces, seeming to brace himself as he asks, “I, uh– I need to know what would happen…like, what you’d feel, if…if someone you were really close to gave back their duo item. Like Raine.”

The very idea spikes Day’s pulse to the point where he swears he hears ringing in his ears. Fuck, he hasn’t thought about something like that in so long.

One of the last things he saw before he was taken from his original timeline and into the SMPza was Sapnap, illuminated by the lightning.

Sword raised, expression afraid but determined…

…and the small tattoo on his wrist, one that he’d gotten done with Day, inked over by something new.

He spent a lifetime mourning even that small trace of himself being scrubbed away.

Distantly, he hears a puzzled, “I mean…it would be upsetting, but I’d talk to him to find out what happened.”

…What?

“So it– it wouldn’t feel like the world was ending?” “I’d be hurt, but I wouldn’t go that far, no.” “But– but it’d be like saying you’re not friends any more!”

Day stares at his son’s com as it’s quiet for a long moment. “...Lee, it’s just a piece of jewelry. I know it represents that bond, yeah, but it’s not…the only part. Raine would still be my friend even if that got ruined,” Aster states. “So– I’m guessing this is on speaker, right? And Day and Lucid are there?”

Somehow, Day manages to make an affirmative noise around the confusion and fear he’s feeling.

“Okay. So, if something happened and…let’s say that Iatros was careless and his bracelet got ruined. Like, a stone broke, or the chain snapped, or he lost it because one of Lucid’s cats stole it. Would that mean your friendship is entirely gone now?”

He considers it, trying to push past the initial fear of the idea. “If…it was an accident, no.” “So your friendship doesn’t hinge on that bracelet, then.” “...No?”

Aster sounds like he leans in a little closer, and presses, “But all three of you are panicking about a hypothetical involving someone else’s items. Items that, ultimately, aren’t the real thing that matters.”

There’s a long pause, and then Aster sighs. “Well I’m pretty sure that Observer is right. I can ask every single Swords and Shields member and they’ll probably have similar answers to me. Hell, I bet Perce would react the same.”

Lee points out, “I bet there’s one person who’d react the same.” “One…? Ah. Right.”

Another sigh comes from the com. “Well…for what it’s worth, you might want to make sure he knows about it?”

Scowling, Lee mutters, “I bet he got– all the fucking bullshit he went through were because of all of that.”

Probably no better time than the present to tell Lee about the new plans, then. He leans over and tells Aster, “Thanks for your help. We’ll let you go now.” “Happy to help, but also I’m taking my payment in the form of something in your fridge.”

He laughs at that. “Yeah, sure. You know you’re welcome here any time.” Day can practically hear the faint smile in his voice as Aster says, “I do, yeah. Take care, all of you.”

When he hangs up the call, he has to take a minute to let this new reality settle in his mind for a moment.

Before he can find the words, his son puts a hand on his arm. “Hey, Dad?” “Hmm?”

Lee smiles at him. “I think Daz should get to learn admin stuff too. I bet he’d be really good at it.”

He huffs in amusement. “Intuition or vibes?” “A bit of both. I’ve seen a bit of what they do at the Welcome Wagon, you can’t really plan all that if you’re dumb. And…I mean, out of everyone you could give mod access to…”

As his son gestures vaguely, Day has to admit he has a point.

Lucid throws his hands up. “Thank you, see! I had to argue for it, but even you think it’s a good idea!”

He shoots his past self a warning look, but Lee blinks at Lucid. “You wanted to teach Daz?” “I mean– it wasn’t really my idea. I didn’t even consider it, honestly? But Daz showed up a few nights ago, and asked for it. After I thought about it…he really does deserve to be taught by someone who wants him to do well, you know?”

Feeling a little petty, Day rolls his eyes and points out, “I didn’t want Lee to be pushed out.” “My point stands that it’s better for everyone if they both get the training,” Lucid repeats.

In a deeply unwelcome move, Lucid looks at his youngest and asks, “If you were the only one being trained, and you were unhappy with how it was going…would you back out? Or would you keep doing it, because you felt like there wasn’t another choice?”

Lee’s chin lifts up and he replies, voice firm, “Sanctuary is better off with multiple admins. It’s better for everyone if we have more people, so that if something goes wrong or someone is sick, there’s others who can help shoulder the load. The more people who can really help fix code bullshit, or copy elytras, or even just deal with putting out literal fires–”

“I don’t know how your brother made a flamethrower with greek fire, at this point I’m too afraid to ask,” Lucid mutters under his breath.

Scoffing, Lee points at him. “Yeah, exactly. And Daz already does a lot of that kind of work! He’s the perfect fit to be a mod. I wouldn’t even trust Theo with it, honestly.”

Day grimaces a little. “He’d abuse it all the time.” “Daz is a good person at heart, and I trust him to be responsible,” Lucid agrees.

Lee beams. “Awesome!” He pauses, and then adds, “But we have to make him take less hours at the Welcome Wagon, right? I’m pretty sure Raine, Aleph, and Khons would protest if we tacked admin-training on top of what he already does. Raine mentioned once that he’s not sure that Daz even sleeps, so…”

“That was my main stipulation,” Day sighs. He reaches over and ruffles his youngest son’s hair, smiling at the way he laughs merrily at it. “I’m proud you’re not upset over sharing and are thinking that far ahead.”

He blinks at the question, head tilting to the side. “Uh…I don’t like flying in disasters, honestly? I’ve broken my wings like that a few times. I’m pretty sure it was a hurricane that led me to take shelter with Theo, Dee, Orph, and Attie, though, so…I like them for that fact alone.”

After a moment, he adds, “Just not everything else about them. Strong winds are one thing, but storms are dangerous. I don’t really like being out in them on even the best of days.”

Straightening back up and grabbing his knife again, he sighs. “I have no clue why piglins have bastions. Same reason villagers have villages, I guess? I never thought too hard about it when I realized they’re not actually smart.”

“...But they are?”

He puts his knife back down and stares at Lee. “What?”

His son furrows his brow, head tilting to the side. “Piglins are smart. I dunno how smart, but…Attie is able to get them to trade him what he needs consistently, and they offer extra if he tips them. They recognize him and they make a certain sound if they see him.”

Lucid looks just as confused as Day feels. “I mean– dogs recognize people who feed them, so…”

Lee rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously telling me San has nothing to say about piglins?”

“San has trouble seeing in the nether because of all the lava. Bastions in particular are a struggle for them, for obvious reasons.”

His son groans. “Uhg, right, of course. But, I’m telling you– it’s not just vibes, but I know in my gut that they’re smart. I’ll even bet on it.”

Lucid raises his eyebrows. “Your family bets on damn near everything.”

Lee considers him, and then turns to look at Day. He looks utterly serious as he says, “Dad, you trust me, right? You believe me?”

Something in his expression makes Day nod. “Of course.”

A smile spreads on Lee’s face as he turns back to Lucid. “If you’re right, and you can prove they’re not smart, I’ll give you a get-out-of-Dad-being-mad card.” Lucid opens his mouth, but Lee continues, “But if I’m right, you have to stop making me prove it. Especially about admin stuff, since you seem barely more informed than I am. If I say the vibes are telling me something, you have to listen.”

Lucid stares at the hand extended towards him, brow furrowed.

By all rights, it’s a win-win for the admin. Either he gets confirmation that Lee’s vibes are, indeed, aware of more than what he is…or he gets a way to stop Day from fucking with him.

“Only one card,” Day notes.

Evidently unwilling to wait for the deal to get any worse, Lucid shakes his son’s hand. “Yeah, alright. I don’t see a downside to this. Can’t wait to see how you prove it, though.”

A slow, ominous grin grows. “I have some ideas.”

OOC::

Full question:

[infinitethree]

hello day and his sons! i wanted to ask if your family celebrates any holidays, and what your favorite ones are if you do!

It seems as though this time, the family is eating dinner.

Or, at least, they were trying to eat dinner. Everyone’s expression falls somewhere between murderous and tired.

That is, except for Theo, who doesn’t stop speaking despite hearing the question. He’s got a wide grin, almost taunting. “Really, it’s your own fuckin’ fault that you don’t hide shit you care about! If you don’t fuckin’ want me to hold stuff ransom, don’t piss me off.”

Orph’s eye twitches, and he grips his knife tighter. “You started it, you absolute asshole, you were the one who swapped all my pictures with clown paintings!”

Theo grins even more. “Dunno, sounds like your fuckin’ taste, though?”

Lee grabs a roll off the table and throws one at their hands with a surprising amount of both speed and accuracy. “Stop it,” he says, glaring at his eldest brother with enough heat that it leaves no doubt that he’s been on the receiving end of Theo’s needling.

With no small amount of relief, Day accepts the lifeline of this question. “Christmas, New Year’s, birthdays, April Fool’s day, father’s day, every day that passes where Theo hasn’t managed to get his brothers to revolt against him.”

There’s a loud bark of laughter from the eldest son in question. “‘Cause they know I’d kick their asses!”

Day’s eyebrows shoot up. “I hope you know I’m going to bring this up later, after they wreck you.” He ignores the offended squawk and continues, “My favorite is Christmas. I get to make or find things for everyone, I get a week of none of them pranking each other, and I get to inflict the rest of the server with quote-unquote thoughtful presents. Lucid’s sweater remains my crowning achievement.”

“It’s a migraine given physical form,” Perce says. “I’m still impressed by it. I didn’t realize you could see nausea. I’m almost positive it’s got some kind of admin bullshit done to it–”

“That would be cheating,” Day tells him. He looks more than a little smug. “What’s life without a little challenge? Besides, if it was admin bullshit, he could just undo it. He can’t even get rid of it because it’s too warm and comfy. I know exactly what textures are best for him, and I know he’s more willing to wear it out of spite. Thus, I inflict suffering on more people. A gift that keeps on giving.”

“I really feel like people don’t give him enough credit for being a chaotic bastard,” Dee mutters under his breath. “They forget we learned it from somewhere,” Orph agrees.

Day grins. “You’re all just feral gremlins by nature. Sure, I might have…nurtured a little–” “You kept telling dad jokes and bad puns until we banded together to stab you so you’d stop! That’s not a little nurture,” Atlas argues.

There’s a little hum of disagreement from Perce. “I mean…I didn’t grow up with him, so it’s not just that?” 

His eldest brother tells him, flatly, “Perseus, you got fuckin’ Monopoly banned because you decided to keep one-upping how much a fuckin’ bastard you were.”

Perce stares at his eldest brother for a long moment, head tilting to the side like he’s deciding something.

The youngest sighs and scoots his plate closer to himself in what seems like resignation.

“I’m the one who rigged everyone’s bedrooms with motion-activated frog recordings. I also made it so I could shut it off specifically to fuck with Dee.”

The entire table is perfectly still for a single heartbeat.

And then chaos erupts; Dee lunges, Theo withdraws a set of throwing knives, Orph pulls out his crossbow, and Atlas shoots forward with his hands outstretched.

Perce laughs, tossing himself backwards and telling them tauntingly, “Too slow!”

As he nimbly darts away, his older brothers all speed after him.

At the table, Day hums to himself. “...Yeah, I probably brought that on myself. At least it wasn’t Theo this time.”

There’s a gleam in Lee’s eye that he suspects bodes badly for Perce’s health and/or sanity in the future. “You still can’t use the Swords and Shields punitively. I’ll ground you for a month.”

“It would be worth it,” Lee tells him. The gravity in his voice is definitely worrying. Day replies, “Two months, then. Use your power responsibly. It’s a bad precedent to set and one that would upset others. Do you really want to scare new people because there’s a ten year old with an army who uses it for petty revenge?”

His youngest sighs with visible reluctance. “Fineee. I’ll just– poison his food, or something.” “Only if it’s not lethal.”

Lee glares at him and says, outraged, “The others can just stab him!” “A hazard he’s aware of. Do you really want to make your brother afraid of food? And of you?”

The ten year old groans in defeat, wings slumping as he puts his head into his arms. “Buzzkill.” Day reaches over and pats his back. “We both know you’d hate yourself if you hurt others for more than just a short respawn.”

[infinitethree]

Thank you, Lee! Apparently I'm just shit at explaining but I thought I was gonna have to quote someone else's explanation and just switch around names. Anyway excited to see you prove piglins have intelligence. Are you gonna do the same for endermen?

Also, rip my explanation of you-know-who, Lucid and Day. Looks like it got censored.

Lee squints at the air and makes a helpless shrugging gesture.

Then he remembers that, right, he’s obligated to answer now. That’s part of the deal of being a member of the Council; the perks come at a cost.

“That’s…complicated. For reasons you should already know,” he says, slowly, eyes flicking over to his Dad and Lucid.

The three of them are heading out to the bastion that Atlas regularly visits. Even as they crest the hill and see, he can’t help but note that despite some care being taken to clean up the area and make it safer…not a ton was done to make it nicer.

Along with them is Daz. After a semi-disastrous first meeting with the piglins, he had decided that he wasn’t ready to throw Lee into the deep end just yet…especially not when there were some notable stakes involved.

Not having to prove everything that Daz teaches him will do a hell of a lot to ease the process of learning from him. By now, Lee is confident that anything his teacher conveys to him isn’t just random shit he’s guessing at. Anything that he learns will have been tested to the best of Daz’s ability.

Convincing his dad and Lucid to let Daz come was surprisingly easy. Though it’s technically a bet, this is something that would ultimately involve them all as mods and/or admins. On top of that, Lee pointed out that Daz is very good at helping people.

It’s literally been his job for three years, after all. He’s likable and friendly enough that he could probably become, like, king of the bastion if he really put his mind to it.

There had been some light debate, but Lucid had said that it would be a good way to see how Daz handles an unfamiliar situation. Shocking events are the norm, after all.

It took pretty much every ounce of Lee’s shaky and fairly new acting skills to not burst into hysterical laughter at the idea that Daz was the one who wasn’t familiar with piglins.

Now that he knows the truth, it’s kind of insane how much everyone underestimates and dismisses Daz as the persona he wears in public. It would be insulting if that wasn’t the entire point.

Lee is the one leading the charge, though he hesitates as the piglins spot him. They don’t sem hostile– they’re all wearing obvious gold, though Daz’s is the least blatant. 

The piglin seems to perk up on realizing that it’s Daz, and puts their crossbow away to come over. They offer that greeting, and Daz does it back…though not as smoothly as before.

He says, brightly, “Piglins are really nice, actually. I think they really like my hair, and all the gold I wear! I swear I’ve heard a few make the same sound they make when they see gold. I think they kinda use it as a nickname…? At least the ones I’ve seen a few times before. I dunno, maybe I’m just memorable!”

The way he’s interacting with all of them seems to confuse literally everyone but Lee. He and Daz are pretty much the only ones who have anywhere near the full picture.

As they had planned, Lee fishes out a note and hands it over along with a handful of gold ingots. “I did some research and I think I found at least a partial dictionary. I’m asking for a bottle of water, some spectral arrows, some nether bricks, and a soul speed two book. Being able to read has to count as being intelligent, right?”

It’s not even a lie, but there’s another part to it– a request for them to understand that Daz has to play dumb, and an apology for not greeting them or speaking properly.

The piglin snorts, looking at the gold, and then at them. They seem to consider the offer, and then shake their head.

Lee frowns. He thought that he paid enough for that, though? But the piglin tries to hand the note and gold back.

Instead of taking it, Lee chews his lip. In the hopes that maybe this bastion is better at Common than the other one, he says, “We’re all mods, and that guy there–” he gestures at Lucid, “--is the admin. Uhhh…” he searches for the words, and hesitantly says them in what he hopes isn’t accidentally an insult.

The piglin straightens up, looking at them all more critically. They seem surprised, but not angry, so Lee continues, “We didn’t know you were intelligent. I’m only asking that you help me so that I can prove to them that you are. That proof will help– we can put protections in place, so that people don’t try to attack or steal from you. I don’t– I know know your language yet, I’m sorry, so I don’t know why my deal isn’t good enough.”

Frustration wells up as the piglin doesn’t give an overt response. They seem to think it over, and then grunt. They hold up the gold, and the note, and then do a motion that Lee doesn’t quite understand– the gold is lifted higher than the note is.

As he’s struggling to decipher it, Daz suddenly claps his hands. “Oh! Maybe you didn’t pay enough?” “But that’s four ingots, that’s how many items I asked for.” “Uhh…maybe by making a request, you’re asking for more. Usually it’s just, like– you get what you get. But if you’re asking for something, that must make it worth more, right?”

The piglin perks up and nods repeatedly.

Oh! That– makes a lot of sense, actually. He’s so fucking glad that he bought extra gold, just in case. He asks, “What are the new prices, then?”

The note is held up so that they can point to each item, and then a number of ingots are also lifted to show the prices. Arrows are bricks are still one, water is two, the book is five.

But he is asking a lot of them, as is Daz. He inclines his head and fishes the ingots out, along with an extra one. “As an apology for not understanding at first. Or, uh, a gift, if that makes it feel better?”

There’s a sound that seems like laughter, and the ingots are taken. The items are placed in his hands, one by one.

He beams and tells them, “Thank you! I feel like I got a very good deal. Separate from this, would it be okay if I come back after learning some more to try and better understand what would be best for your people? I don’t want to assume, or talk over you, but I also don’t want you to feel like we’re taking advantage of you. I want piglins to feel welcome in the server as well, not lesser just because you’re different than us. If that’s okay, I mean.”

There’s a wide smile and another nod, and then the piglin pats his head a few times. Then they turn to Daz, and ruffle his hair with what seems like more fondness. They point to Daz a few times, until Daz claps again. “Oh– do you want me to be there? Okay! I’m good at figuring stuff like this out. I really hope we can make sure piglins are given the respect you deserve.”

Daz waves cheerfully, then gasps and does a motion that Lee recognizes as a goodbye…just executed less angrily than the last one he saw. “Right, this is how you guys say goodbye, right? Thank you so much! It was really nice to see you, say hello if you see me again!”

It’s only after they’ve started leaving that Lucid sighs and says, “I’ve– definitely lost. That’s…how the fuck did nobody notice until now?”

Lee shrugs a little. “I mean…we didn’t expect it, so we didn’t look for it. We don’t look at ravagers or dogs to secretly have a rich society and intelligence, right? It doesn’t look like anything we would tolerate, so we dismiss it. And that assumption gets baked in and repeated, until it’s just taken as fact.”

He hears his dad and Lucid both stop. He and Daz turn around, and his teacher tilts his head to the side. “Lee is right, though. Just like how lots of people are weirded out by me because I don’t act like a typical Tommy, it seems crazy that we’d just– up and randomly realize that oh hey, those mobs we thought of as being kinda like animals that can do a neat trick are actually, like, super civilized but in a way we’re not used to recognizing as such. You kinda just see what you wanna see until given a good reason to believe otherwise.”

His Dad nods slowly. “I mean…yeah, but still. Atlas being able to get consistent trades should have been a tipoff to someone…” “Poor Attie is probably gonna kick himself over this,” Lee sighs, “Like, he thought they were about on the same level as villagers, so…”

“Wait,” Lucid says, horror suddenly dawning, “If this was under our noses– are there other mobs that are the same way? Or, uh, actually intelligent I mean.”

There is no way in hell that he can explain endfolk yet, especially because he can’t even approach them while supervised.

He fucked up the easy ones while trying to greet them. Daz doesn’t need to give him any warning, because he’s not dumb enough to out that secret while he knows even less than he did about piglins.

“Maybe? I’m not getting clear vibes,” Lee grimaces. “But we can probably rule out super hostile ones? I don’t think skeletons or zombies are gonna be able to do this, if there even are any others.”

Daz hums. “I feel like…if there are any, Lee is right. If you’re smart, you don’t try and attack the guys with swords and armor and stuff as just like, your normal way of doing things. I would probably look at passive, neutral, and even friendly mobs.”

The teacher who’s pretending to be dumber than he is starts to head back towards the portal, and laughs, “I’m really, really hopeful that axoltols have like, tiny villages underwater we’ve just overlooked! Imagine something that cute that be a really good companion…I’d have to set up a whole program of, like, partnering people with the little cuties!”

They trail after him and Day teases, “We’d have probably noticed that one by now. A bunch of people keep axolotls as pets, from what I hear.” “Don’t crush my dreams,” Daz huffs, acting almost like he’s pouting. “I will do my own research, thank you.”

Lucid silently shakes his head, probably dismissing the earlier show of insight as either a fluke or Daz just being naturally good at figuring this sort of thing out.

That’s the crazy part– how he can show intelligence to that extent and yet still play it off like it was all an accident.

If it wouldn’t raise more questions than Lee could answer, he’d give a round of applause.

Daz tilts his head to the side at the question, giving nothing away. “Claims…oh! That thing that Lee was telling me about, right? Where we give gifts that show we love someone…”

Day says, “You heard that too?” “Yeah! I guess ‘cause it also kinda involves me? Still weird to think I’m an admin…”

It’s not entirely a lie. A part of Daz still seethes about having been fucked up so badly because he was unlucky enough to be scooped up by the so-called-father.

Apparently Phil had found him on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, clearly abandoned and starving.

It would have been better for everyone if he had been left there to die. He already had blood on his hands then– whatever happened to his parents or guardians, they left him there alone.

The only two options is that they died because he loved them, or they realized he was cursed and discarded him like the wretched thing he always was.

Dying would have solved so many problems, but it seems like the universe just won’t let you die. I think it likes your suffering, Innit sneers. Or maybe there’s a god who’s enjoying your cycles. Every time the curse hits it gets more deadly.

There’s a long, almost pregnant pause, and then a near-croon of, I wonder how many you’ll kill this time?

A cold sweat goes down his spine. He can’t say he hasn’t been kept up by that thought– the knowledge that his love causes suffering, and loving him causes death. He’s woken up from countless nightmares of being surrounded by a sea of corpses, all of them staring at him in silent accusation.

But he can’t focus on that. He should keep his attention on the fact that, though this wasn’t addressed to him, it’s subtly calling him out.

Ribbons, bracelets, goggles, bandanas. All things tied back to his original reality…and mostly his once-mentor.

They would all be horrified if they knew that he had broken both halves of a claim between two admins. That he killed Dream, someone he loved like a brother, and destroyed the fragile tatters of his sanity even more.

Lucid’s brow furrows. “Tattoos, huh? I mean…at least that’s something that can’t be taken off. That should probably be used more than it is, right?”

A bitter laugh suddenly escapes from Day. Daz notes that a dark expression has twisted onto his face. “Taken off, no. Covered up…” “But it’s still there, under your clothes, right?” Daz tilts his head to the side in the other direction, like he’s not catching the implication.

“And under the coverup tattoo…technically. But not in any practical sense,” the immortal tells him. There’s a look in his eyes that makes something click in Daz’s head.

Ah! So that’s a huge part of why Day refuses to deal with the people who were once his friends. One of them must have had a tattoo covered up, and to an admin– especially one as ruined has Day had been– that was as good as telling him that they were enemies.

Doesn’t their entire group have one, though? So that doesn’t narrow the options much; realistically, it could have been any of them.

Still, he makes an appropriately stricken expression. “Oh Prime– Day, I’m so sorry, I had no idea!” He wraps his arms around the immortal in a hug, squeezing him tightly.

Day’s wings flare in surprise. “I– huh?” “Claims being rejected really hurts. It feels like your heart is being ripped out, every time…” he trails off, though he knows that it’ll raise more questions. “But you found new people who really love and treasure you. We’re kinda the same like that!”

“Who rejected you,” Lee demands, and Daz can imagine his eyes thin and wings poofed out in anger.

He ends the hug– Day still seeming shocked by it– and gives a sheepish smile. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t good enough…I should have been better for them. Only a bad kid would get rejected by their family, so…I must have been bad.” His brow furrows, and he repeats, “That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

As he wanted it to, what seems like understanding washes over both Day and Lucid. “That’s why you’re so– you got rejected as a kid, fuck, no wonder you’re so fixated on being good and useful!”

“I’m better about it,” Daz protests, frowning and pulling his limbs in close. He fidgets with his hoodie and doesn’t meet their eyes. “I– I know people get mad when I say that useful people are good, and so I have to be useful or I’m bad. I still kinda think it’s true, or at least it is for me, but Raine baps my head if he hears it. Or uses a newspaper, or something like that.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lee staring at him in mute horror. He can guess why the pieces don’t add up, and he stammers like it’s to all of them, “But, uhm–! I think we did really good today, right? We’re gonna help the piglins, so–”

Lee sees Daz stutter on the word, “S– so, we should, uh, probably split off, right?”

He’s reminded of the threat from the Scribe, that someone else was just as smart as him and just as able to be entertaining.

The implications of that bother him. He’s still deeply disturbed by what Daz had said– and not dumb enough to dismiss it entirely.

It’s a weird detail to make up if it’s not true. And he’d already mentioned that he’d been rejected before.

But his own family? Fuck, no wonder he’s so…like this.

It makes him feel a hum of protectiveness that he’s not really used to. Daz isn’t helpless, but Lee doesn’t know how else he could possibly feel.

This is someone who has done impossible things for him, the most incredible of which have been kept secret from all but a precious few people.

Lee always felt fond of him, but that fondness has shifted to a full-blown urge to claim and protect Daz.

If anyone in Sanctuary needs that, it’s this person. This calculating, manipulative person, who has been cut down so many times that he refuses to exist in public without donning a mask to make himself seem harmless.

He knows, even without the vibes, that Daz wouldn’t be able to accept it right now. Maybe once Lee has had more time learning “alongside” him, though…

Flicking his wings out, he finally answers, “Of course. But you’re wrong that I care about everyone the same. I love some people more than others…something you should know. Admins pick favorites, and you’ve spent several questions making sure we know that more than we already did.”

Chin kicking up, he scoffs, “I feel like you’re going for some sort of angle here and I don’t like it. If you have something to say, say it.” His eyes narrow, and he adds, “Or can you not, because you’re being censored? Are you trying to say something you shouldn’t? Are you sure that there won’t be consequences for doing so?”

He sees Daz staring at him, the other admin clearly trying to understand why he’s responding so aggressively.

It takes so, so, so much willpower not to grab his shoulders and scream that it’s because Daz is being threatened, and Lee has been raised by a family and around people that would demand blood for such an insult to their loved ones.

No matter what Daz wants to allow for him to do, Lee has already decided that he’s one of his people.

As soon as he can justify it, he’s putting a damn claim on him to ease the gnarled mess of trauma that lurks deep in his teacher’s heart.

[infinitethree]

For Theo, Orph, Atlas, Lee and Perce

What are your favorite video games?

All of the Was-Taken kids are in the living room of the main house. With them are their closest friends; Quizzy, Aster, and then Perce’s friends who had moved realties with him, Agni and Damon.

Notably, Day is nowhere to be seen.

There seems to be some sort of show the group are all watching. Or, well, loudly heckling and not taking very seriously at all.

Several of them boo and throw some sort of snack at the large screen. 

The question makes all six of the brothers startle a little.

The first to react is Dee, who makes an affronted noise. Despite the fact that he could very easily fit onto one of the multiple couches or padded stools in the room, he instead seems to have opted to sprawl out on the floor. "First of all, fuck you for excluding me. As the best brother, I–" "Bullshit," Orph interrupts, giving him a not-quite kick. "We all know I'm the cream of this crop–"

"I thought we agreed not to get into this argument again," Atlas mutters.

"We did," Theo says, rolling his eyes. "'Cause Lee wins. Tiny baby brother with a fuckin' heart of gold n' kinda bad taste in cookies–"

Lee twists around to point threateningly at his eldest brother. "I know where you sleep and the Fates love me."

A slightly sour look flashes in Perce’s eyes for just a moment. His insecurities might have gotten quieter, but they were still there.

"And the Fates love clowning on Theo. He deserves it, though," Aster comments.

He’s a little annoyed that this is when the Observers have opted to manifest. One night, one, where he can just be a normal person instead of dealing with whatever new form of weird bullshit has decided to crop up. Surely that’s not too much to ask?

And yet here he is, faced with the uncomfortable reminder that he’s keeping the sort of secret that could destroy the server if it were known.

The indignant squawk from Theo makes most of the group laugh.

"I'll play anything that has a good story, an excellent soundtrack, and a good game play loop," Orph answers. "We do not speak of the twisted blights that are rhythm games.”

“He’s salty he always gets the lowest score. L, imagine having no rhythm,” Atlas chimes in. Immediately, Orph lunges at him with clear intent to main and/or murder. “THE SCORING SYSTEMS ARE FUCKING BULLSHIT–”

In a motion that should probably be less familiar-seeming than it is, Theo hooks an arm around Orph’s waist and stops him from completing that lunge. “Let Attie answer the fuckin’ question before you try to stab him.” The Wilbur variant gives a shriek of displeasure, which just makes those with good hearing wince.

Rather than let him continue with that, Dee slaps a hand over his mouth. He warns, “Lick me and the next time you wake up, it’ll be to a warden in your face.”

Orph narrows his eyes, clearly trying to determine if the risk is worth it.

Instead of making further threats, Dee says, “Strategy games, especially ones with deep mechanics, are the most valid games.” 

Perce grins at him and asks, “At least until I beat you, right?” “Those are the result of game balance issues. If you can beat me in your first three games, it’s broken.” “Or you’re just bad. And a sore loser. And pissed I can exploit mechanics you overlooked.”

Dee glares at him. “I know where you sleep, little brother.”

The grin gets wider and toothier. “I know where you sleep, and have a backlog of prank ideas I’m happy to pull out–” “Menace,” Dee mutters, though his annoyance seems like a bit. Perce retorts, “Fun police.”

Righteous indignation twists Dee’s expression. “You take that back–”

“Oh my fuckin’ Prime you’re all like coked up ferrets,” Theo says, disgruntled, as he shoves a wing in between them to break their line of sight. Aster laughs and tells him, “That’s one of the most fascinatingly hypocritical things I’ve heard you say.”

There’s a deadpan, “Fuck you.” He gets a smug smile in response. “You can always try to kill me for that…if you think you can.” The taunt just makes Theo give a bark of laughter, though he’s got an alarmingly similar grin creeping up. “I see how it is. You have a fuckin’ deathwish, huh? I’ll fuckin’--” 

“Theo, be nice,” Lee interrupts. “Wh– but he–!” “Be. Nice.”

The youngest brother stares at the eldest with a wide-eyed look that…probably shouldn’t be as intimidating as it is. Achilles is all of ten, with a significant amount of baby fat still clinging to his face.

And yet, Theo, the heavily scarred veteran of multiple wars he decided to throw himself into mostly for the hell of it, wilts under his babiest brother’s not-quite glare.

Despite his muted affect, Aster’s aura of smugness only grows stronger.

At least, until Lee turns to point a finger at him. “Don’t you be a jerk, either. Aren’t you supposed to be at least sort of responsible?”

Like Theo had, Aster looks immediately chagrined. “...He deserves it, though.” “Not disputing that. I just expect better from you.”

Several people in the room, Theo included, give surprised laughs. 

Agni, the Sapnap that is one of Perce’s best friends leans over to said Dream and whispers, “...Isn’t it a little worrying he can scold them like that? I’m not crazy for thinking that, right?” “The second he decides to weaponize his disappointment we’re all fucked,” Perce mutters back.

“Language,” comes the knee-jerk response from the Bad of the friend group, Damon.

Before Theo can do more than take a breath, Lee whips back to stare at him with an even stronger warning glower.

Theo wisely closes his mouth again.

Satisfied, at least for the moment, Lee says, “I really like games where I can build stuff up. Terraria, Stardew Valley, that sort of thing. But the best games are multiplayer ones. My favorites are ones where something’s randomized. Everybody gets a turn to get angry, and sometimes there are even bonus team ups!”

“The teamups are to murder the winner,” Atlas clarifies. “Or, in some cases, because they were being rude the entire game.” “I went to one family game night. Never again,” Quizzy laments. He idly flings a small pretzel at the screen. 

It misses and instead lands on the floor.

“Cheers to that,” Agni says, knocking his can of soda against Quizzy’s. “...You haven’t ever been to a family game night,” Dee points out. 

With a roll of his eyes, Agni tells him, “Dude, we can hear the aftermath from our house. And we hear Perce complaining about whatever happened and whoever won for days afterwards. He still gets mad about whatever the hell caused Monopoly to be banned–” 

Perce immediately argues, “There wasn’t anything in the game or house rules about betrayal being banned–” “You backstabbed me!” Like Atlas didn’t say anything, Perce barrels on, “and there’s nothing about not playing dramatic music for revealing I had deals with everyone and am now betraying them all in one fell swoop. Or recording everyone’s reactions. Or not selling said reactions for a tidy profit. Or manufacturing memes and betting on which ones get popular to make even more money.”

By this point, Orph’s anger level has lowered enough that his brothers let him speak. “There are now!” “Only because you’re all mad you didn’t think of it first.” “That’s not the point!” “The point is you’re all sore losers who really need to learn to take an L.”

Aster lobs a pillow at him with startling precision. “You’re going to start another brawl. At least let Theo answer the damn question first. Or do you want to be the one to explain to your dad that his eldest son is comatose because of Monopoly-based rage?”

Damon looks worried. “Wait, if we don’t answer questions we go into a coma?!” Theo sighs and tells him, “We have no idea what the fuckin’ consequences are, n’ even if we did, it wouldn’t fuckin’ apply to you. Just me, Dad, n’ Vio. Nobody else got told to answer.”

Technically he’s wrong about that, but Aster isn’t really going to correct him about it.

Theo’s board game based rage almost visibly subsides. “Dunno, I don’t play a ton of games. Good story s' the most important thing to me. If that's good, I'll play pretty much anything."

He pauses and then adds, "N' also Pokémon, 'cause we all play it together."

Perce nods, wings ruffling a little. "Yeah, it's nice to share that with everyone. Other than that…for me, rouge-likes or RPGs with a good story are the best. Oh, or a really good visual novel."

Theo points at him. "Yeah, those too. Some're duds, others're fuckin' amazing."

His little brother grins and holds out his fist. Theo grins back and bumps it.

"Nerds," Atlas sighs, though it’s clearly a fond insult. "For me…man, I just want something to veg out to. Listen to music or a podcast and just vibe. The genre doesn't matter; Slime Rancher, Crypt of the Necrodancer, Bejeweled– those are all great."

Orph perks up a little. "Oh, Crypt of the Necrodancer is a decent rhythm game. Not perfect, but better than fucking Guitar Hero."

The title is spat with a surprising amount of venom.

“Which reminds me–” Orph wheels back on his twin, a gleam in his eye. “Don’t you dare,” Atlas warns, though seems to realize it’s a lost cause.

Exactly as Orph lunges forward again, Atlas springs up off of the couch. Using his wings, he scrambles up past the TV and into the kitchen. Orph is barely a second behind him, wielding one of his daggers. “Play bitch games, get bitch prizes!”

Nobody seems so much as bothered by the attack.

Though Perce does lean forward and say, “My money’s on Atlas.” Dee scoffs. “You kidding? Orph has righteous fury on his side.” “Yeah, exactly. It’s funnier if he loses despite that. So, Atlas will win.”

“I want Atts to win because he’ll sulk for days otherwise,” Quizzy comments. “But do you bet on it,” Dee presses. “No, because I like having money. I’ve made too many dumb bets with all of you to get tricked into this one.” 

“In my defense, I usually can make jumps like that,” Perce mutters. Theo reaches over and pats his head. “Usually pretty kickass, yeah. N’ that just makes you cockier n’ you hit the ground even fuckin’ harder.”

Perce huffs, but he’s grinning too much to even fake annoyance. As much as they can get on his nerves, he does love his family.

“Five emeralds on Attie. S’ vicious when he wants to be,” Theo says. 

After a moment of thought, Aster asks, “Is this a binary choice or can we add a third option?”

“No, you can’t go bet for yourself, kill them both, and take the pot,” Perce answers.

The heavily scarred Tommy hums to himself. “...And if I did it anyway, just for fun?” “Bets are invalidated.” “And I stab you, fuckin’ wrong’un,” Theo adds, affronted.

He knows all too well exactly what his friend is considering doing.

“We’ve established you can’t actually do that, actually– both literally and without Lee getting mad, soooo–” “I dunno, you’re kind of being a jerk right now. Pretty sure I made my stance on that clear,” said ten year old points out.

Theo grins, wings ruffling with more than a little smugness. “Still want to talk shit, bitch?”

Aster rolls his eyes, flicking a piece of popcorn at him. “Fine, fine. You have to admit it’d be funny, though.”

“I feel like that’s a worrying stance for the leader of the Swords and Shields to take,” Damon says. “I usually have to be the voice of reason. If I don’t take chances during my free time to be a little unhinged, it’ll leak out when I need to have my head on straight.”

Perce makes a face. “You’re never unhinged, though?” “No, you just don’t see or hear about the boring parts of my life. You get adoring fans, I get to figure out who should be on rotation during your events and who’s able to be backup if the first, second, and third stringers fall through.”

Theo bumps Aster’s side with one of his wings. “Isn’t there a fuckin’ chart or something?” 

Something alarmingly like despair creeps into Aster’s voice. “Spreadsheets. Plural. I’m not– I dream of those fucking things, I’m not talking about them right now.”

Lee leans around his eldest brother to reassuringly pat Aster’s arm. “I appreciate your hard work. And also how good of a friend you are to Theo.”

[infinitethree]

Hey lee? How do you feel about Daz?

Achilles pauses mid-step and mid-sentence, visibly brightening at the question. He’s traveling from the arena back to Summer Hills, sparring matches between Aster, Theo, and Aleph already over for the day. The others had all split off to other things, bar Aster–who walks at his side. The Sword stops the second Lee does. He studies his charge for a few moments before he lets faux realization visibly wash over his face. “Ah. Got a question again?”

He only feels a little guilty that he’s lying by omission in not telling Lee that he and four others have a warning system in their own heads now. It’s weird, slightly unsettling, but very useful.

“Yup! They want to know what I think about Daz!” Aster can barely stop himself from rolling his eyes a little. He thought Daz had been joking about getting a fan–possibly several, it was hard to tell–but evidently not. He tilts his head to the side and asks, “Well?”

Lee grins and excitedly starts saying, “He’s really nice! He’s one of the people who help the only mildly traumatized new people get settled! Tours, explaining stuff, being someone they can go to if they need something, that kinda stuff. I’m really, really glad we have someone like him around! He’s also super fun to talk with–he’s always got something new he knows!”

Aster can’t help but smile a little at the sheer enthusiasm. It’s sweet, even if he’s very wrong about who Daz is at his core. Yeah, Aster will definitely be telling Daz about how he’s going to break Lee’s heart when Daz eventually reveals his actual self.

Actually, Aster needs to ask what the plan for that is. He knows only that it’s vaguely ‘when Lee is ready’, but he has no fucking clue what that actually means. He also doesn’t know what exactly the purpose is, aside from Daz teaching him how to lie and twist words into a weapon. Which Aster is still sort of on the fence about; having Daz around is bad enough. Having the focal point of something regularly referred to as an army be able to do what Daz could do was…very concerning to consider.

Despite whatever the fuck had turned him into who he was–who Aster did have to admit was very good at what he did–Daz still had one of the most innately Tommy traits there was; loyalty. Not through a fucked up enchantment, not through trickery and deception, but actual, earned loyalty. When Daz decided to stand behind someone, he didn’t do so halfheartedly. He would lie and scheme and plan to prop that person up regardless of if they were aware of it or not.

Oh, and over-gifting because he wasn’t really able to express his positive emotions towards others. The memory of Raine getting more and more baffled as the plans Daz had made for them to room together were unveiled was still a treasured one. Sure, it was still unclear how exactly Daz managed to know about half the shit he had put on the blueprints–a good chunk of which not even Raine himself realized he’d want–but…well. That was just their first taste of what Daz was truly capable of, back when both the Council of the Star and the Swords and Shields were just starting.

The explanation had been halfway insults, halfway insistence that it just ‘made sense’ to not have Raine snap under the pressure of the Council, the apartments in the Dream city, and coping with his own trauma. As much as Aster believed he was good at it now, he still stands by his original attempt to change Daz’s mind about putting Raine in the Council. He was the youngest on the Council by a decent margin and had been skittish–to put it mildly and for good reason–around Tommys for a long time. It still made Aster feel a little guilty that the teen was in a place where he had both to deal with new Tommys on a regular basis and lie about a lot of things.

Instead of sharing any of those thoughts, though, Aster gives a little hum to show he’s listening. He adds mildly, “He’s got a lot of things going for him. Especially how easy it is to get him gifts–he likes gold jewelry.”

Lee wrinkles his nose slightly. He shakes his head in disagreement, wings ruffling a little as he does so. “No, that makes it harder. Everyone gets him gold jewelry! I always have to find something better, because I won’t lose to anyone else!”

Aster stares at him for a few seconds and then asks slowly, “...You know gift giving isn’t a competition, right?” “Mmm, well, that’s where you’re wrong,” Lee says, staring right back.

The two remain like this for several moments before Aster sighs and breaks eye contact first. “You’re…definitely a Dream, alright. Stubborn as hell and even more competitive.” “Thank you,” Lee chirps at him, looking just a tiny bit smug.

[infinitethree]

WasTaken family, what worlds do you like going to best?

Unlike the last time a question was directed towards the entire family, this time they're split into groups.

Theo, Perce, and Lee are once again in the arena, though they’re joined by three of the Council members–Aster, Aleph, and Khons.

Lee sits attentively in the stands with Khons and Perce, attention zeroed in on the other three. They're having some sort of three-way spar and it's...fast. Very, very fast; so fast it's easy to miss the identical, feral grins that Theo and Aster have. Aleph doesn't seem as blatantly enthused, nor quite as speedy, but seems to be enjoying himself and holding his own just fine.

Especially when Theo falters for a fraction of a second and gets a sword through his chest for it.

Almost immediately he starts shouting, darting back into the arena from the respawn room. "That didn't fuckin' count! Interference!" The other two disengage, glance at each other, and then over to Theo. "...Are you sure you aren't just being a sore loser? There wasn't anything that I saw," The piglin hybrid's mostly monotone voice carries a bit of amusement, even if he knows damn well what's going on. All of the Council members do, actually.

Observers are present and almost certainly have asked something.

Theo scowls at him. "Fuckin' question popped up! S' still weird as shit!"

Aster, still catching his breath, squints at him. "...How is it any different from the Fates? Isn't it just one more voice?" The warrior rolls his eyes, flopping down near his brothers in the stands. "No, n’ it's hard to explain why it's not the same," he grumbles, “It just is.” Aleph and Aster both take seats nearby, since there wasn't much point in continuing without him. They had plenty of time to spar just the two of them.

Perce speaks up from his place next to Khons. "As funny as it would be if Theo was just making excuses for fucking up," he says, ignoring the indignant squawk from said brother, "I got it, too. I'm sort of surprised, though–and a little confused about how much they all know. Theo and Dad are the ones in the family who travel a lot--the rest of us only occasionally go elsewhere. For me, it's less of a 'kind' and more a specific one. I like visiting my original world. It's nice meeting up with my friends and seeing how things have been. I don’t regret moving here, but...I still miss them sometimes."

Lee grins, elbowing him. "I was too adorable to not move here for, right?" Perce laughs, reaching over to ruffle his younger brother's hair. "Of course. You'll only be tiny for so long. Plus I thought it would be good to give the rest of them more space. I'm not even the admin any more--and before I get asked, I was...different, from how Dad and Dream Prime. I just kept things running smoothly, no world-talking or link to it like they have. Had, in Dad’s case. From what everyone back on my original world has told me, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo are doing a great job. I figured they would–wouldn’t have given them control otherwise– but…it’s still nice to be proven right."

There's a grin from the eldest brother at that. He extends a fist towards Aster as he says, "Tommys are just fuckin' pog like that." The Sword bumps his fist back, smiling a little. "We're pretty capable, given the right motivation."

"Best world is Opinionated Ranboo's. Cookie Dream n’ the rest of the cookie team are awesome! Even Ranboo is funny, if a little...likely to give me a headache. The cookies are worth it though! Nothing beats getting one right out of the oven," Lee declares, earning a few smiles. "Capitalist Tommy is another very pog one of us,” Theo comments, “Pretty fuckin’ sure we’d end up signing our souls over if he, Tommy Prime, n’ Caper ever went into business together. We’re just real fuckin’ lucky that Capitalist Tommy is more focused on his own world.”

Khons adds mildly, “And that Caper is more focused on the Prank Guild. Most Tommys are…pretty scary, when they want to be.” Really, though, Khons had his own opinion of who the most terrifying Tommy was. It took a special kind of person to quietly create an entire organization with a secret council at the helm, hide all evidence of said council’s existence from someone who could be shown anything that happened in the world and seamlessly lie to countless people for three years. It took an even more special person to do that for the defense of an admittedly already very safe child, and to then thrive on the deception.

There were a lot of things about Daz that were baffling. Most of them tied back to whatever the hell his original world had been like. A lot of the details of that were withheld even from the other Council members. Though, to be fair, the rest of them weren't exactly open books about their own first worlds either.

“And you, Theo? Favorite kind of world?” It only takes a few moments after Perce looks to his eldest brother before the answer comes. “Probably peaceful-weird ones. Y’know, where shit’s fuckin’ strange but there’s not any real danger. Or, if there is, s’ more like we need to bring people back ‘cause the world is fucked, but not in an insta-death way. More like, uh…there was one with fuckin’--Dream on a little island, n’ the world had flooded, right? But he refused to go unless his friend–fuckin’ merman Quackity, which was wild for a few fuckin’ reasons–could go with him. S’ you might be able to guess, was sorta hard to bring a person who doesn’t have legs n’ can’t breathe air through a portal with us!”

Perce’s eyes narrow slightly. “...Wasn’t that the one where Vio reverse engineered a water breathing potion out of spite? Even though he has basically a magic allergy?” Theo laughs cheerfully, “Yeah! Fucker scared the shit out of the two we were fuckin’ there to help, ‘cause he flat out didn’t sleep for about four days. Dream asked at one point what was up with him, and Dad fuckin’ said that Vio has a personal grudge against water. Fucker then shouted back that water had a personal grudge against him, n’ I think I laughed so hard I blacked out for a few seconds.”

“Sounds about right,” Aleph says, smiling faintly. “He was…interesting. In the world Moons and I came from, he decided to leave a message for the group we were running from that time.” Khons has stilled, an uneasy expression on his face. Aleph carefully leans against him ever so slightly, a gentle reminder of his presence. Theo watches them for a moment, then says helpfully, “So, yeah–that kind of place. Or just…ones without all the real fucked up shit. I’m real fuckin’ sick of finding another fuckin’ Protege Tommy world. No offense, Aster, but–”

A shrug meets the apology. Aster says mildly, “None taken. It’s depressing to see how common they are, anyway. Granted, a lot of them do end up in the Swords and Shields because…well. Lee is a sweet kid and one of the least threatening Dreams we have.” He looks at the kid in question, whose smile falters a bit. “...Would be nice if nobody was hurt at all, but…if they end up here, bad stuff happened to them or their world. I didn’t really…deal with any of that. Or, at least–I don’t remember it. I’ve gotten a lot of kindness from everyone here. It’s sort of…the least I can do, to try to make the really messed up people feel a little safer.”

One hand goes to touch the brooch worn over his heart. “...I just want everyone to be safe and happy. They deserve that much.” The quiet words linger for only a moment, and then he feels a hand settle gently on his head. When he looks up, Aster is smiling softly at him. “You’ve got a big heart. It’s what made all of us decide to stick by your side–we don’t want you to stop being that kind.”

The sheer weight of that draws a tiny frown from Lee. “I know, I know. It’s…” he trails off, struggling to put the feeling into words. After a few moments Khons gently offers, “It feels like you’re being given too much, right? Like you haven’t done enough to earn that sort of loyalty?” Lee nods a little. “Mhm. That’s how we all felt, you know. What had we done, to make us worthy of being taken back here? What had we done, to merit the kindness and empathy we’d been given? What made it okay for us to finally be safe?”

The rhetorical questions make Lee look a little offended. Feathers puffing in outrage, he protests, “Nobody has to earn–” “We know that, now. But at first…it’s hard to believe that. It’s easier to accept flower crowns and scrawled drawings and disarmingly sweet compliments from a little kid than it is to believe that the world really is safe. ‘Leph and I would probably never have gotten as involved in things if you hadn’t opened that door. It might not have been your intention to start anything bigger…but you did. We’re glad for it.”

Aleph inclines his head a little. “All of the Swords and Shields are behind you because of that. You didn’t say anything about Khons’ wool or my fur–you just said that his eyes are kind and that I looked like a good friend. It’s still not what we’re used to; a lot of new people will make comments about what we look like.”

Silence falls over them for a few moments, Lee clearly considering all of it. “...Okay,” he says with quiet reluctance. “Baby brother, just accept that you’re pog. S’ just a fact. Can’t turn the sky green or the fuckin’ grass blue, can’t change that you’re the best tiny brother I’ve ever had. None of the others fuckin’ compare,” Theo declares. Perce rolls his eyes, and elbows his elder brother. “Don’t rank us; I’ll tell Dad.” “Don’t be a sore loser, Perce. I can still kick your ass,” Theo retorts.

Perce grins at him, a toothiness to it that spoke of mischief and the innate competitive drive he had. “That really depends on what we’re going against each other in, but sure. Tell yourself you’re the best–if you say it enough times it might become true.” There’s a scoff from the elder brother, who ruffles his wings a little. “I can come out on top in anything–” “Manhunts, trivia nights, ability to keep my fucking mouth shut for more than five seconds–” “Fuck you! I could beat you if I wanted to–”

It quickly devolves into petty bickering, though there’s still that ever-present affectionate edge to it. Then Lee jumps into the verbal fray, which drags the two Swords and the Shield with him, and…it’s unlikely that the sparring will resume any time soon.

=================

Over in the flower fields next to Summer Hills, the second eldest of the family barely has to stop and think about the question. “Best worlds to visit are any of the peaceful ones with big societies and a lot of advanced tech. New things to take apart, new media, new internet to dive into. There’s always something unique in those worlds and I fucking love them.”

The two with him–Raine and Tubbo Prime–both stare at him. The other Tubbo looks confused. “Uh…Dee, who are you…oh.” He stops, realization dawning. “Did you get another question?” “Mm. Wanted to know the family’s favorite kind of world to visit,” Dee says, idly watching as bees float by them.

“...The whole…question thing unsettles me,” Raine admits quietly. “Yeah, shit’s weird. It’s just one more to add to the pile, though, and we can’t do much about it. Better to answer than be stubborn and piss whatever or whoever is asking off, right? Unless they’re assholes. In which case, I’ll meet that assholery in spades.”

Tubbo Prime grins a little. “Oh, definitely. Vee was pretty annoyed about the first few–last time I saw him go all eye twitchy like that was when he heard the names of Boo’s picks. Which was fair, because he’s been stabbed for those.” Raine’s expression turns deadpan. “His axe is bad, too. Not as bad as some of the other names I’ve heard, but…” “It’s okay,” Dee says earnestly, though with a mischievous grin. Putting a hand on his shoulder he continues, “This is a safe place. You can tell us how terrible Dream Prime’s equipment names are. We understand. We feel your pain.”

The three of them all crack up, Raine being the first to break. He wheezes out, “I still can’t believe he went from naming everything Nightmare to–whatever the fuck his current ones are–” Dee scowls, gesturing with his hands as he talks. “Dad knows what they mean. He refuses to explain beyond saying that they’re melodramatic and dumb as hell. I keep trying to get him to fucking crack, but…he’s him. So, you know, he’s a stubborn asshole who refuses to let me have any fun–”

Tubbo Prime shakes his head sympathetically. “Truly, he’s the head of the Fun Police.” “Yeah, but he’s pretty alright. And…a little scary,” Raine says as he lays back against the grass. “Oh yeah, no, you didn’t see him fight a fucking god with Theo, Techno, and Vee. He’s weird, but good weird. Like everyone else from that world!”

Dee makes a face. “No, there were assholes. There were a lot of assholes, actually. Hell, Vio used to be one of them. Still is, a little bit! I could start listing them off, but that’s fucking depressing. I’d rather watch the bees.” “Bees are superior to most things,” Tubbo Prime agrees, watching two of them drift by.

=================

Day sighs softly at the sound of a question. He’s in his living room with both Atlas and Orpheus, all three involved in their own projects. Day is in a chair and knitting a sweater in dark green, white, and light blue yarn. Atlas is positioned sideways on the couch with some sort of odd-looking board that he’s deftly knotting thin wire and beads onto in a complex pattern. Orpheus is…well. He’s got a ton of papers with notes and music on them spread out across the floor, his com propped up off to one side, a guitar halfway in his lap, and is chewing on a pencil.

“You two get that one, too?” “Yup,” Atlas says, not looking up from his project. Orph makes a noise of distracted agreement, eyes narrowed as he stares down at one of the pieces of paper like it personally offended him.

“Any of them I can go see musicals in,” Orph mutters after a moment. Atlas nods in agreement. “Yeah, those ones usually have good stuff for jewelry. It’s a pain to put away our wings, but worth it to just…go have a day of fun.”

“I keep getting mistaken for their brother. It’s funny,” Day cheerfully adds. Orpheus makes a face, finally looking up at him. “You get smug about it. It’s not their fault immortality isn’t a thing for most people–” “He gets so smug,” Atlas groans, glaring at their dad.

Day is entirely unrepentant. “Yes, well…it’s still very funny.” Orph points his pencil at him. “Hypocrite!” “Mmm, special Dad privileges. I’ve earned being a chaotic asshole from time to time,” Day says with a little shrug.

Orph starts intoning, “Every day spent here is a nightmare–” “No, that’s an axe. And a set of armor. And a sword–” Day’s interruption makes his son make an infuriated noise and hiss, “You know what I meant!”

That only makes Day raise his eyebrows slightly. “Of course I did. I also know that you’re a terrible gremlin child and deserve every single terrible dad joke I make. All of you do. I’m getting belated revenge for the raccoons, Orpheus.” Day shifts his attention to Atlas, who laughs nervously. “So, uh–your favorite kind of world, Dad?”

Day shrugs. “Anywhere that’s peaceful. It’s nice to not have to immediately deal with some horrible, nightmarish crisis involving pain, suffering, and death. The solution in those cases is usually more death. Or making everyone talk. Either way, I don’t like those. Ones that are just…silly, or lighthearted, or just generally aren’t deeply depressing. Or…hurt my head. We’ve had a few of those.”

“...Wilbur being married to XD was weird to hear about,” Atlas says, and all three of them make similar faces. Orpheus’s voice is slightly higher pitched as he rants, “How do you think it felt for me?! I had to hear about an alternate self that was married to a god who my Dad created here!”

“I had to meet a version of someone I fought a war against and another of whom is my son who married a god that is, for me, little more than an admin program I created. I had to have a little scream into a pillow after that one, because it was so baffling. We didn’t even do anything; we were just there to see it existed!” Day’s voice goes from oddly flat to somewhat frustrated as he speaks. He takes a moment to set his knitting down and stare blankly up at the ceiling. “I feel like the butt of a cosmic joke sometimes.”

“Nah,” Atlas offers mildly, looking back at his project, “that would be Dream Prime.”

[infinitethree]

How do you deal with role reversal worlds?? Or just in general, worlds where Tommy is cold and cruel and everything Not Tommy?

The question makes Vio blink a few times. He glances over at what looks like a very normal dog, but whose ears have perked up despite there being no other noise.

Then the dog looks at him with far too much intelligence and almost seems to nod, and it’s suddenly a lot more questionable if that’s actually a normal dog or not.

Vio considers the question as the dog hops up onto the alarmingly purple couch and settles down against his side. The alien rolls his eyes and scratches under the neon purple collar that matches the couch. The netherite tag on it says that his name is Hero. If it were a normal dog, it would be a lot weirder that his nametag is netherite, but it's pretty clear that Hero is very much unique. “It still baffles me that you request this,” he mutters to himself, getting a wide grin that shows–okay, yeah, no, those teeth are disturbingly sharp. They look a lot like little knives and–they might be serrated?

“Yes, I know you do this just to be a petty asshole. That doesn’t make it seem any less demeaning for an eldritch entity to decide to ask for scratchies,” Vio replies. “You could literally do it yourself. You’re a shapeshifter. You’ve helped me with surgeries.”

An eerily deep woof is the response he gets. The alien’s eyes narrow at him. “Go fuck yourself. Either don’t sass me or give up on your precious scratchies.” There’s a sulky huff, then the not-dog sets his head down on his paws.

“That’s what I thought,” Vio says, sounding a little smug. “As far as the question…well, it depends on the context. Sometimes Tommy is like that because he’s been put through hell. Sometimes he’s just a sadistic asshole. The way I cope with the former is very different from how I deal with the latter. There are more than a few Tommys who have ended up here, and many act distinctly unlike Toms ever did.”

The casual use of the nickname is coupled with a slight anger, though it’s mainly visible through a single flick of his tail. There’s no guilt or hesitation as he continues, “That said, the ones who are cruel and cold due to that being their innate nature are dealt with the same way we deal with the Dreams or Schlatts or anyone else who poses a threat or risk to whatever we believe is the reason we’re in that world. By that I mean that we cut them down without mercy, because they are not and never will be the ones we know, care about, and have built this place up with and for.”

His attention slides over to Hero, who is staring back at him. The not-dog huffs a little again, eyes rolling. It’s…more than a little weird to see how he can emote and communicate so well without words.

“Hero says that he doesn’t give a shit as long as he gets fed. New people keep making the mistake of giving him prismarine and spider eyes, thinking if they let him sniff it he’ll be repulsed.” He turns his slit gaze to the not-dog, who is studiously looking away like it will make him any less guilty. “You need to stop tricking them like an asshole; you know that it pisses Tommy Prime off when you corrode the Prime Path with your fucking acidic drool. That, and prismarine is a sometimes treat, not a part of your staple fucking diet. You get fed more than enough, you don’t need to resort to begging people who don’t know any better!”

Vio looks a little surprised at the question. “Chorus fruit salsa. I learned how to make it from some abnormally friendly endermen in exchange for bringing some chorus fruit back for them. I also taught them how to write and say it in common, and taught Capitalist Tommy how to write and say it in Ender. The endermen were having some trouble conveying to him that they wanted it. Given that nobody there speaks Ender aside from possibly Opinionated Ranboo–who remains an enigma after all this time–and that Capitalist Tommy has never been to the End, that was an understandable stumbling block.”

He shrugs, smiling at the memories. “It’s very tasty. Boo agrees, Bee and Toms don’t. Michael refuses to say either way to avoid upsetting either of his dads after the other got incredibly smug about finally emerging victorious in that particular battle. It would be inevitable and the source of another threat of divorce and/or prank war.”

The too-sharp teeth he has himself are shown as his smile turns into a grin. “They’re all chaotic and capable of killing me in my sleep in countless ways if they felt the need, but…I’m happy. I’ve seen what I would have been like if I never ended up here. Whatever reason I was pulled here for, even if it was for the multiverse travel I was forcibly enlisted into…? I’m glad for it. I like my life, I like helping people. I like being friends and co-workers with Day and Theo in spite of their insanity.”

A soft laugh is let out as he rolls his eyes again. With an amused tone he adds, “For all that Day tells me I act like a dad, he spends an awful lot of time acting like a child. I swear to Prime, I’m in possession of roughly four fifths of the self control between the three of us. The last fifth is usually held onto by Day, though sometimes Theo grabs it for a few brief, blessed moments. But, well, I can’t really think of anyone more capable to do this with. Theo’s reputation is well earned--and he had people scrambling to try and buy info on any sort of weakness he might have despite him being blind. Day, meanwhile, is…more or less the people person of the group. That, and makes sure Theo doesn’t just wander off for whatever he thinks sounds fun. It’s still baffling that he’s made a game out of spotting Purpleds. It’s even more baffling that he usually loses said game.”

Hero’s eyes open again as Vio smiles slightly smugly. “And then me? I’m the one who helps cement that yes, us being there. That, and team doctor. I can fight if I need to, but I tend to prefer healing. It’s more of a challenge–it’s so much harder to fix something than to break it.”

The not-dog at his side huffs yet again. Vio blinks down at him. “...You’re right, I’m rambling. It’s a bad habit.”

============= Theo blinks a little at the question, hands pausing in their motion. Day’s do as well; they’re both doing dishes with Lee, the family meal done with and everyone back in their own houses.

Lee looks between them, then his eyes light up a little. “New question? What is it?” Day tells him, “Apparently they want to know our favorite food. That’s a little hard for me, even if it’s a normal question. Again–living on raw potatoes for around a year will sort of…make you appreciate literally anything edible and non-poisoned. Though, honestly, if the poison was hidden well enough I probably wouldn’t care about that part.”

Theo reaches over to smack his arm and glare at him. Day frowns a little at him, then Lee hits him as well. “No! No talking about your own death like that, Dad. I’ll drag you to Techno myself if I need to.” He stops, looks aside, and adds, “...I’ll keep the hiding the poison thing in mind, though.” After another beat he abruptly looks back at his surprised family members. “Not for you, Dad. Or Theo, probably.” “Probably?!”

The outraged cry is met by the youngest family member rolling his eyes. “I know what you’re like and make no promises that you won’t make me mad enough to poison you. Don’t worry, I’ll make it non lethal. Or, okay–if it is lethal, it will at least be quick.”

Day finally breaks into loud, teakettle laughter, smacking the counter with one hand and trying to breathe. “Oh PRIME, that’s amazing–I wish I was recording!” Theo turns his offended, disbelieving look to his dad, hands flying up in offense. “What the fuck?! What did I do!?”

Lee squints at him and asks slowly “...Do you want that list in alphabetical order, or chronological…?”

That only seems to set Day off even more, the immortal now leaning against the counter in an attempt to stay halfway upright. Theo glares at him, flipping him off. He gives his little brother a stern look, and is met by raised eyebrows. “...You’re getting awfully fuckin’ sassy for someone who shares a house with me.” Day manages to compose himself enough to say, “No retaliation for that! We’re encouraging hiss sass, not stifling it!”

Day’s verdict is met by a squawk of further offense. “You biased asshole–!” “I’d also turn the full fury of my small army back towards you, Theo, soooooo–” The laughter from their dad dies abruptly, the man straightening and pointing at his youngest. “No threatening to use the Swords and Shields for nefarious and/or revenge based reasons. They shouldn’t be helping you with anything like pranks or mayhem. We’re trying to show new people that you’re not evil. Using the people who have sworn to protect and defend you to help you mercilessly crush your siblings under your heel does not help sell people who are already iffy about a Dream raising two other Dreams, one of whom has an army.”

The pair of wings at Lee’s back slump a little as he scowls. “Fun policeeee…”

Day rolls his eyes a little. “Just like Dee, you don’t get to engage in quote-unquote fun that drains the sanity of others. Less trauma for new people, not more. They get a grace period before they can be pranked for a reason, Achilles.”

Theo crows, “Hah! Sucks to be you, tiny bro–” “You’d have been worse with a sworn army when you were his age, so don’t be a smug asshole,” Day interjects, only raising his eyebrows when Theo takes a deep inhale like he’s going to protest more.

The warrior’s wings slump as he admits, “...Yeah, yeah I would’ve been. Fuck.”

“Exactly,” Day says as he starts scrubbing again. “The answer to the question is that while I’ll eat damn near anything, I do like things that are fresh. I learned to cook halfway to feed my four gremlins, halfway to really enjoy that I was able to do so. I did have some…mishaps, sure–” Theo cuts in, “He gave us food poisoning on more than one occasion! That, or made something very fuckin’ inedible that he somehow didn’t notice was fuckin’ stomach churning!”

Lee whips around to stare at his dad, who shrugs. “I was a street kid, then I relied on either crafted food or my friends, then I went into my second life and spent about two decades wandering. I didn’t really have to cook until I was adopted by your brothers. Sometimes I was also trying to use someone else’s memories to make something without understanding how or why things worked. I then tried to translate whatever Phil used to different portion sizes and with different ingredients. It’s also–first of all, I never directly tasted pretty much any of it. Memories of food and what food actually tastes like are very different things. Second of all, sometimes the memories don’t quite…sync up right.”

Theo is staring too, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he finally says, “...That explains a whole fuckin’ lot about how shit you were at cooking, actually.” Day points at the sink to get Theo to start helping again. He does so as his dad agrees, “Yeah, no, turns out it helps to know what the fuck everything is doing in a recipe before you start tinkering with it. Books helped a lot.”

“Holy shit you did start getting better after we got you a stack of them didn’t you,” Theo gasps, eyes wide with realization. “Prime, how do you keep finding new ways to make everything make sense?!”

Day makes a face. “I mean…you’re a little oblivious sometimes, so…” “Why are you bullying me?! What did I fuckin’ do?!” The cry of dismay is met with a deadpan look from his dad, who hands the plate to his youngest so it can be dried. “Theseus Was-Taken, you have never, not once in your fucking life, not taken every single chance to be a chaotic little gremlin without a lot of incentive involved. I can and will take any chance I get to repay you for a fraction of the headaches you caused me while you and your brothers were growing up.”

Lee says reproachfully, “Yeah, you’re the reason the no murder at the table rule is in place.” “I don’t do anything! This is discrimination–!” Day cuts off the protest with a laugh and says, “No, this is your crimes being laid at your feet. All of your brothers have dove across the table mid-dinner to attempt to stab you with whatever utensil is in their hand. Perce wielding a spoon was memorable. Alarming, but memorable”

There’s a scoff as Theo hands another plate to his little brother. “Lee hasn’t–” “I’ve been tempted a few times. Also, it’s too predictable and I’m not good enough yet; I have to be sneakier.”

The other two look at the youngest, who beams at them.

“...I forget you’re a Dream sometimes, and then you say things like that and remind me all over again,” Day finally says after a few beats, and then resumes scrubbing. “You’re right, though. If your opponent is stronger physically, find ways around that. Raw strength and skill with a weapon are pretty much never the only tools you can use. There are so many ways to defeat others–”

Lee perks up, interjecting, “Like diplomacy or stealth!” Day grins. “Yes, exactly. You can also avoid making enemies in the first place, or making yourself into someone they can’t reasonably go after without losing far more than they’d gain. Victory isn’t always about killing others, it’s about getting the outcome you wanted or needed. Actual murder shouldn’t be your first option in most cases.” He abruptly looks over at Theo. “You never answered the question, by the way.”

Theo blinks at him, leaning against the counter as he waits to be handed another dish to put up. “Hmm?” “The food question; it was for all of us.”

He frowns a little at the reminder, not sure when he got distracted enough to forget that. “Oh. Huh. Uh–I like the cookies from fuckin’ Opinionated Ranboo world. That place might be real fuckin’ weird but they sure as fuck know how to make cookies. Out of all of them, though, the best are butterscotch.”

Lee gasps in outrage, nearly shoving the plate he had just dried at him. “Fuck you, the oatmeal chocolate chip are clearly the best ones–” Theo takes it and laughs, “Hah! Tiny brother, you know not what you speak of!” “I’ll end you, Theo, don’t fucking test me–”

Day cuts them off, eyes narrowing at them. “Children, I’d really rather not have to mop blood up in the kitchen when Lee grabs the nearest knife–don’t think I didn’t see you looking at them, Achilles–and Theo can’t bring himself to actually defend against his little brother.”

Both of them look a little guilty at being correctly called out, even as Day continues, “Any further attempts to start this argument again will be met with being grounded and/or stuck in time out. I can and will drag your other brothers back over here to mercilessly mock you or inform the Swords and Shields that you’re not allowed to go out for the day, respectively.”

Theo scowls at him, grumbling as he puts the plate he’d had shoved at him away. “Fuckin’ asshole.” “Fun police,” Lee mutters, earning a long sigh from their Dad. “Sure,” he says, rolling his eyes at the sulking, “if that’s how you two want to see it.”