#worse news i have to find a nether fortress now

[louisdotmp3]

great news got a villager in my beach only world. bad news he is still a zombie

[ohworm-writes]

Burns

MCYT: c!Technoblade Boyfriend Scenario

mcyt masterlist

‼ c!Technoblade prompt: Reader gets hurt while exploring through the Nether, coming back wounded to their lover ‼

Featuring: c!Technoblade

Warnings: GORE, angst (?), mentions of injury, description of injury, mentions of blood, worried techno

[ 1.5k word count ]

a/n - i wanted to do a Techno work for a while, so i finally got around to doing it! enjoy the work! i’m horrible at doing endings if you couldn’t tell lol

content below the cut!

You happily made your way through the scorching confines of the Nether, checking your inventory to look at the loot you had gotten. You had been trading with piglins for hours, giving out one bar of gold after another in return for a wide array of items, a lot of which were useless to you.

You had traveled farther out than you anticipated, seeing nothing other than the dull shade of red from the netherack and the flow of lava around you. You had placed a few stray blocks to keep you on track, one of these landmarks more obvious than the others.

The nether-bricked fortress loomed over you as you passed through one of the arches. It didn't seem to have been looted yet, so you had saved the coordinates to it, planning to tell your boyfriend when you got back. Your footsteps echoed through the landscape as you made your way back, unaware of the group of 4 blazes that floated high above you.

You had been absentmindedly checking your inventory still, throwing out the near stacks of soul sand and quartz that had accumulated in your inventory when they started firing at you. You reacted a split second too late, overwhelmed by the searing pain in your arm.

Your clothing was starting to burn up as you erratically patted it down, now left with the skin painfully peeling off, your blood crisping and drying up around it. You screamed in pain as you set the fire out, tears welling up in your eyes at the sight if the injury.

Focusing on getting away, you made a dash towards one of the pillars, hiding behind it as the blazes shooting again at you. The fire caught at the netherack in front of you, fire crackling at your feet. You took a few frantic steps backward, your back meeting with the wall of nether brick.

Waiting a moment to catch your breath, you peered over the side to look at the blazes. They had gotten a bit closer, still looming high above you. You looked around you, spotting the nether portal to the tundra a few hundred blocks away. If you booked it, you could probably make it! But would the blazes catch you before you got there?

The sound of fire shooting resonated in your ears, making you jump back behind the pillar. The fire caught on the netherack, much further away than the last shot. You moved your shoulder a bit, crying out in pain at the intensity of your injury. You held your arm against your chest, clutching it tightly.

You decided it was now or never, breaking into a sprint towards the portal. You heard the fire shooting again, but you couldn't risk slowing down. Sweat ran down your back as your feet collided with the soft netherack under them. The vibration from your footsteps shot up through your arm, making you scream as you pushed forward.

The portal was much closer now, and you didn't hear the shots of blazes. You couldn't risk looking back, so you continued to run. The obsidian pathway felt hard under your feet, in contrast to the softer feeling of netherack. You slowed your pace, adrenaline draining as you stumbled through the portal.

When you came through the other side, you were met with the calm winds of the arctic. You fell to your feet, the pain becoming almost unbearable. You laid your back against the portal, finally deciding to take a better look at your wound.

The entirety of your left arm, from your shoulder to your elbow, was burnt. A large portion of your top was burnt too. Raw skin peeked out from under the burnt portions, red and blotchy. There wasn't much blood, to your relief. Your entire arm still felt like it was burning, searing in pain.

You had to get back to the cabin. That was your goal. Get back to the cabin. You shakily stood up, stumbling slightly as you made your way across the tundra. You held your arm close to your chest, wincing every time the wind blew against it and the vibrations that wracked through your body with every heavy step.

After what had felt like hours, the cabin was finally in sight. The sun was starting to set over the icy plains. You knew mobs would start spawning if you didn't hurry up. You stumbled your way towards the cabin, seeing how all of the lights were on in the place you called home.

When you finally reached the spruce doors. Before you could even reach for the handle, the doors swung open, revealing your piglin boyfriend with a worried expression on his face.

"Y/n! Where the hell have you be-" His eyes switched from concern to anger and settling on distress. He held your uninjured shoulder and ushered you inside, moving you to sit down on the couch that sat down in the center of the room.

He quickly started rifling through chests, not a word spoken as he did so. He pulled out a bottle of healing and regeneration, tucking them under his arm as he reached for gauze and a variety of antibiotics.

You watched him as he made his way from the chests over to where you sat. Your legs dangled off the front of the couch, your boyfriend situating himself between them as he took a better look at your arm. He took a short blade from his boot, cutting off your shirt carefully. He tossed it to the side, focusing his attention on your wound.

He pushed two potions into your chest, you could just feel the anger radiating off of him. It was scary. Without a word, you downed both of the potions, feeling the pain subside for the most part. You exhaled a deep breath you didn't know you were holding, shutting your eyes slowly.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell happened?" His tone was firm, cold, anger dripping from it. You felt terrible, you knew his mind would be working overtime trying to find out a solution before you told him a worm. Your eyes opened slowly, a frown finding its way to your face.

"Blazes," you tell him softly. You saw as his shoulders became slightly relax, at least it wasn't a person who did this to you.

"Tech, love, it's really not that bad. Let me patch it up." Wrong choice of words. His eye twitched and his brows furrowed as he looked towards you. "Not that bad?! Y/n are you looking at it? Your entire upper arm is messed up!"

"I've seen worse on you." You wanted to try and deescalate the situation, but you knew it wasn't going to end up that way. "This isn't about my wounds, this is about yours! You aren't fine!" He yelled, worry filling his eyes as he started to focus on dressing your wound. He stood up, going towards the kitchen to grab a wet cloth.

"Tech-" He grumbled angrily as he drenched the cloth in water. You knew he was blaming himself, you knew the voices would be screaming at him. He settled himself in front of you again, eyes dark as he gently pushed the cloth against your wound, very contrasted to how tense he was.

Your breath hitched, your hand grabbing onto his tightly. He put all of his attention onto wrapping you up. He was completely silent during the whole process. By the end of it, you had a new shirt on, your arm settled comfortably in a sling.

When he was fully finished, he settled his palms on your knees, head down as he mumbled something. You brought your free hand up to his hair, gently coursing your fingers through it. "I could have prevented this," he said, just enough so you could hear him.

"Hey," you whispered, taking your hand out of his hair and moving it to his cheek. He leaned into your palm affectionately, casting his eyes upwards to meet yours. He didn't look angry anymore, his eyes were just filled with remorse.

"It's not your fault, please believe me when I say that." He hummed lowly, closing his eyes and melting into your touch. You stayed like that for a while, silently cupping his cheek. When he opened his eyes again, his arms moved off your knees and he sat up.

You cast him a confused look as he sat down next to you, resting his back on the armrest of the couch. He huffed, opening his arms as a welcoming for you. You chuckled softly, laying back into him and making sure you didn’t lay on your injured arm. 

You lay your head against his chest as he carefully wraps both of his arms around you. He hums again, the sound resonating through his chest. You let your eyes shut as you smile. You feel him press a kiss to your forehead as you let exhaustion take over.

[honklore]

invisible string | dreamwastaken

(requested plot by red string of fate soulmate au, dream is still a streamer, reader has commitment issues, dream just wants someone to love, chat is the best wingman, sapnap and george try but they suck, reader is timid but dream makes them feel brave, taylor swift references, this is not very deep or poetic at all, i don’t like typing y/n so after this i’m going to move to ___)

listen to: invisible string by taylor swift

In kindergarten, red strings were simply a crafting tool, and teachers never mentioned how much pain they would eventually bring.

Because when they appear, from a child’s eighteenth birthday and beyond, they tighten like a godforsaken high school ring that came in one size too small. Like the universe is a child tugging their mother towards the ice cream truck, you’re pulled around central Florida, passes faces you can’t memorize and voices too garbled to hear.

The string knows where you need to go, and when.

And you’re at the park, feeding ducks and trying to ignore that incessant pull that tugs at your pinky, when you hear it.

It’s a voice you know only because it’s a voice that’s been in your house before. At least, through your brother’s tablet screen. Some gamer online — a streamer, with a distinct wheezing laugh that you’d recognize anywhere.

And you do. Behind you.

You risk a small peak, and your heart drops into your chest. He’s tall. Too tall to not intimidate you. And his sandy hair is wavy, curling at the collar of his sweatshirt, falling perfectly into place when he runs his hands through it. When he does, you see it, the red string.

Which means he could see it too. All he’d have to do is turn around.

But you’re not ready. You haven’t been, not since you watched your cousin get rejected on her eighteenth birthday. Since you watched a string of fate get clipped in front of you, like the three fates had finally had enough of your cousin’s happiness.

It was enough to make you curl into yourself, and reject the natural pull set before you. So you run, and you try not to think of what would’ve happened if he saw you before you saw him. You try not to feel the clippers, but the blade feels tangible against your skin.

You don’t stop running until you arrive home.

“Hey chat, just wanted to do a few practice runs and catch up with you guys,” Dream mumbles into the mic, already restarting his game after deciding he didn’t like his seed. The donos begin rolling in, even before Sapnap and George have unmuted, so Dream flits his eyes to the display screen, subconsciously reading along with the text-to-speech voice, “Dream, what if we shared a string of fate? Ahaha, just kidding... unless... love you bestie.”

Dream chuckles, “Actually chat, I felt a tug today! Isn’t that weird? I was actually reading up on what that could mean, and it seems like either my soulmate is in a lot of distress, or they were in my vicinity. I’m hoping, for their sake, it’s the second one. How would you even comfort a soulmate if all you can do is tug on a stupid string?”

“Simp!” George finally unmutes just to be annoying, and Dream knows soulmates are a touchy spot for him, considering he wasn’t given a string on his eighteenth. Which is strange, but not impossible. Of course, chat doesn’t know this, because it would give them more hope of becoming George’s metaphorical soulmate, but it certainly makes for awkward conversations once Dream and Sapnap get into their own soulmate bonds.

“I’m not simping, George!” Dream feels a bit defensive, because he’s genuinely just curious. He has no interest in meeting his soulmate right now. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He has his streams, and his friends, and chat. He’s fine.

[abbywastaken donated $10: dream why don’t you go back to where you felt the pull and see if you feel it again? that’s how i found my soulmate. okay luv u bye.]

“Thanks, Abby. Love you, too. Um, honestly I was in a pretty public place, so I don’t know if they would even come back anytime soon. Also, this is Orlando, right? Tourists are everywhere.”

Sapnap snorts, and Dream thinks it’s funny, since he’s in the other room. “Just say you’re a coward and go.”

“I’m not!” Dream says. “It was just a small pull, okay? It wasn’t even a big deal.”

He feels another lurch when he says that, but this one is in his chest. It taps against his heart, a quick reminder that it beats for someone else, and he needs to watch his words. “Okay, it was a big deal. Sort of. I’ll go tomorrow, okay chat?”

Chat is spamming all types of messages, from encouragement to jealousy. Dream manages to read off a few donos and create his first nether portal of the stream. He answers as they appear, eyes scanning for a fortress. “No, I didn’t see them… I’m not telling you guys where I was, that’s weird… I’m wearing a sweatshirt and jeans… Hi, Sarah and Patrick…”

He trails off as the donos do, and works at getting blaze rods. George is talking about a riddle he just learned, and he’s trying to trick Sapnap into saying something stupid.

Lost in his own thoughts, he finally closes the stream after a hasty goodbye. “What if I missed my chance?” He asks the two boys on the other line.

“It’s a string of fate, Dream,” George says. “You didn’t miss your chance.”

“Maybe they saw how ugly you are and ran away,” Sapnap says, completely joking, but the thought lingers in Dream’s head.

Did they feel the tug, and run away?

You pour cereal for yourself, and when your brother shuffles into the kitchen, you make him a bowl as well.

He’s eleven, and as little brothers go, he’s pretty chill. Aside from the inappropriate jokes and hogging the bathroom when you have to get ready for work, you like hanging around with him.

You pass him his bowl, and he grins. “I’m gonna watch Dream’s new video on the TV, since mom’s not home.”

You furrow your brows. Dream must be one of the dozens of streamers he likes. Maybe one of his friends will be in chat with him, and you will be able to connect a voice to a face. “Can I sit with you?”

He gives you an odd look, and it’s true, you don’t ask to watch videos with him often. “I guess.”

You eat a spoonful of cereal and settle into the couch while he gets everything ready. He clicks on a lime green icon of a little white blob man, and when the first video appears, you’re taken aback by the voice.

That’s the voice you heard. It’s this one, out of all the random men yelling about a block game. It’s Dream.

“Why doesn’t he show his face?” You manage, wanting information about the person that shares your string.

“What?”

“Like, he’s handsome, right? Why doesn’t he have a facecam?”

Your brother snorts. “Handsome? He’s never shown his face, Y/n. Don’t you know who Dream is? He’s like, super famous.”

“Oh.” You think of his golden hair, as sunny and soft as the glow around his entire being. His voice right now, joyous as he gets chased by his friends. “I mean, I don’t keep up with streamers.”

He begins to explain Dream and his friends, along with lore in their role play server, and it’s all interesting enough that you sit and listen, holding on to the little bits of information you can collect about your soulmate.

You file these facts in a secluded corner of your brain and try to make a whole person, along with the hair and the laugh and the intense music he plays as he gets hunted by his friends.

By nightfall, you’re following all of his socials and binge-watching his old streams, holding on to the way he speaks to his friends, and the fond way he replies to donos.

[dreamwastaken is live!]

You click on it, bundled underneath your covers as if someone might see you and find out your secret.

“Hi, chat! I know I was just live yesterday, but I cut it too short and wanted to come talk to you guys.”

He uses his avatar to wave at the screen, and it’s kind of an adorable sight.

[gogysimp donated $25: did you go see your soulmate?]

Your heart stops. Does he know? Did he see you? Or even worse, has he already found someone else, and he just hasn’t severed the tie?

“No!” Dream’s laugh pulls you out of your worries. “I was busy with meetings today, actually. And I was too nervous. Sapnap also refused to come with me, so I’m just going to go another day.”

So he didn’t see you. He just knows you were there.

You click the donate tab before you can stop yourself.

[y/n donated $1: would you reject your soulmate if you didn’t like them?]

Dream mumbles the question, and you try to ignore the way your heart deflates when he skips saying your name. “I don’t think so,” he states plainly. “I mean, logically, a soulmate would be your other half, so I wouldn’t not like them. But I know some people just don’t click, or there are other issues. So, I don’t know. I guess the only thing I can say is that I don’t want to reject them. And I hope they don’t reject me. I mean, imagine finding out your soulmate is a Minecraft Youtuber. That would be pretty weird…”

You giggle to yourself as he trails off and answers another donation. So he’s against rejection. Okay. Maybe you have a chance.

[kyra donated $60: i’m your soulmate.]

“Meet me where you felt the tug, then,” Dream says sassily. “Chat, don’t be weird, okay? I can’t control who my soulmate is, and I don’t want you guys to exclude them if they become a pat of my life.”

Oh, you think. So his chat is vocal about their opinions, and apparently they mean a lot to him. You shiver despite your warm position and imagine how annoying you might seem to his loyal viewers: someone who only knew about him because of their brother.

Insecurity pushes against your chest, so you close the stream and push your phone away, hoping to forget this ever happened, that maybe you won’t have to deal with the inevitable if you don’t think about it.

Yogurt Barn isn’t the first place on your list of dream jobs, but it has decent pay and helps you pay off student loans, so you appreciate it nonetheless. The teal sweatshirt they gave you as a uniform keeps you warm as you scoop the frozen treats.

Your coworker, a girl named Madison, is busy manning the counter, so you check each flavor and refill the ones running empty.

“Can I ask you a question?” Madison met her soulmate, Anna, only days after she got her string. It was a textbook romance, two people meant for each other, no doubt in anyone’s mind. She might be able to help you now. That is, if you can even admit to who your soulmate is.

“What’s up?”

“I felt the tug,” you say, avoiding her eyes in favor of restacking the medium cups.

“No way!” Madison is perky in a way that makes you want to be included. You like this about her. “Did you see them? Did you talk to them?”

“He—” You want to say that the part of him you saw was perfect, enough to keep you up when you should be dreaming. But reality is nothing if not disappointing. “I ran.”

“Y/n…” Madison gives you a stern look — like a mother finding out their child didn’t defrost the chicken in time. “Why would you run?”

“I don’t want to be rejected.” The magenta swirls painted onto the walls are a stark change to the clay sidewalks of the strip mall. “And before you say he wouldn’t… It’s happened to my cousin. It’s possible.”

Madison frowns. “But that can’t be the only reason, right? I mean, we all know someone who has been rejected. It’s usually not the end of the world for them.”

“He’s a famous streamer,” you blurt, and you’re thankful the shop is as empty as it is. Just the words themselves sound fake.

Madison snorts. “Like, gaming? That’s what’s holding you back? He’s a gamer?”

“I don’t care that he’s a gamer!” You hiss. “I care that he has a loyal fanbase who more than likely all want to be his soulmate!”

“You can’t say that for certain,” Madison says. “I mean, everyone knows about the soulmate system. If you watch someone and don’t feel the pull, you know they aren’t your soulmate, right? So why wouldn’t they accept you?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “I’m just scared. I mean, he’s got this huge following and everything and I’m just me. I work in a yogurt shop for goodness’ sake.”

You head into the back to grab more cups, and the bell rings, signaling a new customer.

“Welcome to Yogurt Barn, what can I get for you?” Madison’s customer service voice pricks your ears.

You sift through the boxes to find the smaller cups and listen to the customer’s order. “Can I have a strawberry cone?”

Your string pulls, that same familiar voice filling your head, not on the screen but once again just a few feet away. He’s infiltrating your life, so close you could reach out and touch him, but it’s such a terrifying thought that you set down the cups.

You tear off your apron, and run into the break room to grab a water and calm yourself down.

It’s ten minutes before Madison comes back to find you. “Hey, are you okay? You disappeared.”

You take a deep breath and stare at the poster on the wall. It’s brightly colored, with a walking yogurt cup waving and reminding employees to wash their hands before scooping. “That was him. The guy— the pull— Dream— I can’t— Does he know? Is he following me?”

“It’s okay,” Madison runs her hand down your back. “It’s okay. He isn’t following you. When the pull starts it tends to draw the couple together until they meet. He probably doesn’t know it’s you.”

You nod and take your breaths in gulps. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.”

“Why don’t you go home early, okay?”

Dream is live again.

Fresh out of the shower, you pull a t-shirt over your body and burrow into your blankets. Earbuds in, you try to focus on the sound of his voice, ignoring every ounce of anxiety that’s been riddling your mind.

“Hi, chat. I’m gonna practice speed runs again. I think George is joining soon.”

You open the chat and scroll through the emotes, clicking the ones you like and sending them, just to calm yourself down.

[kylo donated $5: did you find your soulmate?]

Dream laughs. The sound makes your chest tighten with longing. Your fingers ache. “Actually, I went to the place I felt the pull again. I dunno what I was expecting, but they didn’t show up. But after that, I was running some errands and I felt it, chat! I felt the pull again.”

He trails off while his character starts to look for a lava pool. “I feel discouraged but I don’t want to like, chase them, you know? I don’t want to scare them off.”

You click the donation tab again.

[y/n donated $1: maybe your soulmate heard your voice and got scared of you because they watch your videos.]

It’s not the total truth, but it might help him sleep better. You don’t want him to feel discouraged, but you can’t bring yourself to follow the pull.

“That could be a possibility…” Dream crafts a portal and sends his character through. “But I wish I could talk to them. I wish I could tell them that it’s okay. Like, we don’t have to rush into anything.”

[y/n donated $1: They probably wish they could talk to you too]

“Thanks, Y/n.” He sucks in a breath as soon as he says your name. The Minecraft pause screen appears and the sound of a discord call can be heard.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Something about him saying your name just solidified everything. Your arms feel hot and cold all at once, like you’ve just been thrown in a frozen lake. He has to be feeling it too.

“Chat, I gotta go, okay? I’ll try to stream again soon.”

“Hello?” A sleepy voice comes in through Dream’s earbuds.

“George! Their name is Y/n!” Dream is so excited, his voice raising a few octaves as he talks. “Someone donated with that name and I felt like, super weird. I didn’t feel it until I said the name out loud.”

“That’s crazy,” George says, monotone but supportive. “Do you think the dono is actually them?”

“I don’t know,” Dream scrolls through their past donos and quickly screenshots each one. “I mean, they definitely could be.”

He shares the pictures in their group chat.

George hums. “It sounds like they’re trying to tell you how they feel without admitting that it’s them. Where did you say you felt a pull?”

“At the park, and at the yogurt shop down the road.”

“So go there again. Maybe all they need is a little courage. If you feel the pull this time, you should follow it.”

Dream thinks about it for a moment before finally agreeing. He changes the subject to their next jackbox stream, and George is now happily talking about how they’re going to team up against Sapnap.

He goes into Sapnap’s room that night. He sits on his desk chair while Sapnap sits cross legged on his bed, scrolling through his phone. “Do you wanna get frozen yogurt tomorrow? My treat.”

“Hell yeah!”

The new strawberry-lemonade custard is a hit. Not only are the colors aesthetically pleasing for the teenagers who want a nice snapchat story, but there was a promotional coupon in the mail that has people lining up to the door.

“It’s not even that good,” you tell Madison while the two of you are on break. You’re both using a sample spoon to try out the new summer flavors, and in your opinion, strawberry-lemonade isn’t even the best one. “Blood orange is better.”

Madison wrinkles her nose. “No, blue raspberry is best.”

“It’s sour, though,” you say.

“Guys! Break’s over and you’ve got a line!” Your manager stares disapprovingly at the cups of custard the both of you are indulging in.

“We’re coming.” You toss the cup into the trash and walk out, scratching at the sudden itch on your pinky finger.

Pulling on your gloves, you grab a scoop and address the first customer, “Welcome to Yogurt Barn.”

“Hi!”

You still like you’ve been caught stealing on camera. You look up, hand clutching the scoop so tightly you can feel the cold steel through your gloves.

It’s Dream.

It’s him. He’s tall, and his hair is a sunshine blond, dark at the roots and curling beneath his ears. And his freckles… little spots all across his cheeks so endearing that you get a little distracted staring at them.

Then he’s talking, and you have to focus on his jade-green eyes, not his lips, which are a warm pink. “It’s you.”

You blink. Fear strikes your spine and you drop the scoop. “I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Dream calls, just as Madison shouts your name.

You exit out the back door again. Your heart is pounding against your chest, ribs expanding, and all you can hear is the sound of your name coming out of his lips, just last night through a screen.

“Y/n?” Only it’s in front of you, a few feet away, and he’s searching your eyes for any reassurance that you won’t run away again. That you won’t reject him. “That’s your name right?” He keeps talking, a nervous smile flitting across his face. “The donos? That was you?”

You can see the string now, red and blaring, tightening with each step Dream takes. It’s signing off your fate, for better or for worse, and you can’t fathom why he’s trying so hard, why he cares so much.

It’s hot in Florida but you feel cold, chilled to the bone. You straighten up. You figure you owe it to him to look up in the eye.

He leaves you breathless, eyes shining in the sun. “It was me,” you say. “You’re Dream.”

“Clay, actually,” he says. His smile widens, and it’s magnificently bold. He’s triumphant, just from your reply, and that alone gives you the slightest bit of hope.

“Clay,” you say. “I’m— I’m not— I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You don’t have to be.” Clay is quick to reply, hands open and palms up. It’s a complete surrender — putting it all in your hands. “We don’t have to announce it. We don’t have to be anything at all, if you need time. But I would like to be your friend. If— If that’s okay.”

But you want to be close to him. The draw of your strings pulling each other closer and closer makes you want to wrap your arms around him. If he hasn’t rejected you, maybe you can do this. “I– I want to be more than friends, but I’m terrified of you rejecting me. I’m afraid of the string getting cut.”

Clay set his brows, “I won’t let that happen. We’re connected. Fate, ya know?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, and it’s a sigh of relief. “Okay. Maybe I’ll give you my number?”

“I’ll give you mine!” Clay is animated, holding out his hand for your phone. “That way you can text me when you’re ready.”

The red string shines like gold in the Florida sun, and when your fingertips brush, it burns with a satisfying warmth.

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: The First Time

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

Warnings: Violence ; Death

Words: 3.5k

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

Home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chat’s whispers echoed through his mind.

E.

I wonder who they are.

They can’t be older than Tommy.

E.

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

Wilbur will want to know about this.

They said their name was [y/n]?

Maybe they’re like Phil.

Pog.

E.

Blood for the blood god.

E.

They’re probably closer to Wilbur’s age.

Stab them.

Jump off the edge.

Push them off the edge.

E.

Techno, will you call my friend Rachel a nerd?

All warfare is based on deception.

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

Could it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

How many times had you died?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

E.

Greek mythology pog.

Semi-demi god for the win!

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

E.

Persephone is definitely the hottest.

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

They’re stupid.

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

E.

They haven’t died again yet?

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

Save them.

Technoblade, wasn’t Eris the daughter of Zeus?

E.

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

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

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

Two more left.

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

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

One more.

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

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

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

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

Was he waiting on you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TechnoSIMP.

E.

Look at how cute they are.

They’re stupid.

Take them back with us.

You should give them something for helping.

Hug them.

Awww look at them!

All warfare is based on deception.

He stopped that thought before it could fully finish.

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

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

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

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

He chuckled at the thought.

Such a tiny god compared to him.

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

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

[rainbowtransform]

Neither Of Us Will Be Missed

Hello! This is a wip I’ve been trying to get done for a bit now! It’s Manhunt Dream and Dream SMP switch places, basically. :D. If you wanna read it on Ao3 it’s right here! This is the first chapter of three coming up, and I hope you guys enjoy it!

                                                           ***                                                                 

Dream’s fingers twitch, and he grabs the final Ender Eye, examining it. He places it into the portal, hears the age old sound of a large door finally opening, and he takes a deep breath. They’re somewhere else, he thinks. His hunters are trapped somewhere else, they won’t be here until the dragon’s dead. (And then they’d Jump back to the beginning, to the not-dead dragon and the Hunters ready for another year of pursuit and tricks and they only grow smarter). 

(Dream doesn’t know why they’re all trapped in an endless cycle, but they killed him a few times, and he’d killed them, and he’d beaten the Dragon before. It never stopped, it always Jumped, and Dream never stopped running. And they never stopped chasing.)

But Dream takes a deep breath, and then jumps into the Portal.

                                                          ***                                                                

“Who’s Tommy?” A man in a pig mask asks him, and Dream’s immediate response is to back up just a few steps. He bumps into a cabinet, and hears a harsh breath and a finger (maybe) touching the back of his arms before Pig Mask⸺before Techno⸺takes a step forward. “Oh, that guy⸺”

Dream pulls out his axe and holds it up to Techno. “Who the fuck’s Tommy?” Dream asks, feeling dumb as Techno’s own expression changes into a look.

What the fuck are you talking about, Dream, he’s asking. Dream doesn’t respond with one of his own, instead opting to look around while keeping Techno in sight. There’s an Enderman sitting in a boat, there’s a cabinet behind Dream with someone inside it. There’s particles all around them and there’s deep gasps coming from that area, (invisibility); there’s chests next to the Enderman, Techno’s in front of Dream, and there’s windows all around him with two doors next to Techno. 

Dream holds the axe tighter, acknowledges how Techno doesn’t take his eyes off Dream’s hands and then. Just the slightest flicker to the cabinet behind him, Techno lunged forward and Dream bolts.

He manages to snag Techno’s cape, blue instead of his signature red, on his axe and Dream kicks open the doors and runs into the forest.

                                                          ***                                                                

Dream covers his tracks, swipes snow over his footprints and makes new, fresher ones going in tons of directions. He breaks twigs, and branches, overturns rocks and tries to pretend to rush through something. It’ll make it more believable, but it won’t hold Techno for long. When it’s done, Dream climbs into a tree and examines the inventory that’s been given to him. 

A stack and a half of steak, Netherite armor, Netherite weapons, some wood, sticks, half a stack of bread. Some iron, Enderpearls, no blaze powder, but Dream’s been given worse. He’s got a water bucket, too. And Techno’s cape, which he think he needs to put on a branch somewhere else. So, all he’s got to do is find a lava pool, and he’d be good enough for the Nether. This Hunter must be Techno (but how?) instead of his Normal ones. Dream has to be extra cautious about this. Even if the Jump resets, Dream still can get hurt, injured, and killed. 

Dream makes a little place for himself in the trees, splits half of a loaf and eats it quickly. He wraps up his arm, bleeding from the fight earlier. Dream watches as the moon rises, and knows that when dawn breaks tomorrow, he’ll be up and ready to go.

Nether tomorrow, find blaze rods, make Ender Eyes, find the End Portal, fight the Dragon.

It’s a plan. It’s a plan, and it’s Dream’s plan, but he knows that there’s going to be hiccups along the way. Techno won’t let himself go down this easy, nor will he ever actually let Dream go. Techno doesn’t rest easy, and Dream knows that the whispers of Technoblade never dies aren’t just whispers. 

Dream sets himself, takes a deep breath and settles down. He can go to sleep, can’t he? He’s safe for right now. 

(But Techno’s looking, Dream. You aren’t safe here.)

Dream climbs higher in the tree.

                                                          ***                                                                

“Where are you?” Fangs calls. “Come on, Mask. We’re not playing anymore.”

Dream holds his breath, refuses to move from his spot in the wall. The compass Fang keeps around his neck with string sticks on Dream’s skin. They’ve all got a Compass, and some of them keep it close to them (Flame keeps his in a gold chain, in the same place as Fang, while Cat and Bow keep theirs in their backpacks. They’re all back-ups, after all.)

But Dream got the compass. He stole Fang’s compass. And Fang’s alone, right now, so he can’t find Dream and if Dream doesn’t move, or make any sound he’d never find him. Fang clicks his tongue, and snarls. 

“When I find you,” he promises. “I’m taking the compass back.”

“Or next Jump,” Cat says and Dream hears a quiet thump as he jumps down and peers around. 

“Hey,” Fang says. “Do you mind if I borrow your compass?”

“I left mine at the Base,” Cat said. “George is brewing a bunch of potions, though. I guarantee if we go back right now, he’ll be done with them. We can come back and find him then.”

Fang hums. “I think he’ll be long gone by then.”

“But we’ll still have three more Compasses. And we’ll get yours back.”

Fang sighs. “Of course,” he says. “Where else is he going to go where we can’t follow?”

“That’s the Spirit,” Cat says. 

They walk away, and Dream breathes a sigh of relief.

                                                          ***                                                                

Dream wakes up an hour into the sunrise, and he bolts upward. There’s nothing there, just some clean fresh snow and Dream shivers. His hoodie’s designed to keep him warm in some rough temperatures but not in extreme cold like the fucking Arctic. On the bright side with the snow, his old tracks are now covered and Dream can go about running through the trees. 

Dream moves quickly, he slides down onto a lower branch and jumps to the other trees. He weighs skipping breakfast (the other half of the bread) before his hunger gets the better of him. He’s been doing Jumps since he was sixteen, and he has done his fair share of skipping plenty of meals and fainting (and, by result, failing the Jump) so he’s already decided to not do that. 

He eats the bread as he goes, and almost misses the branch. But he scrambled to grab a hold to the tree’s trunk with his (freezing) fingers, and he almost snarled. But Dream’s also learned when to be quiet and when to be bold. He holds onto Netherite things and (no doubt) Techno’s got them, too. The Jump’s all about being fair, and Dream with Netherite, even against Techno, is not fair.

Dream rights himself on the tree and takes a quick glance around again. Some snow is shaken off the trees where Dream had landed, but he shakes it off. By the time Techno comes looking in this area, Dream will already be far far away in the Nether. 

Dream folds his fingers into his armpit, trying to think for just a moment. While his fingers warm up again, he’s already planned for three encounters, two deaths, and a reset. 

He doesn’t want to walk through the snow, but with how the forest is growing thin, there’s no choice. He slips down, lands with a crunch sound and Dream stands. The snow’s basically covering his lower body right now and he tries to wipe it off before it melts into his jeans.

Dream takes off Techno’s cape and throws it over a high branch. That’ll at least confuse him for a second, if Techno’s smart (which he is) then Dream just bought himself about thirty seconds of escape time. 

He sets off to find a lava pool, or a warmer climate at least. Dream climbs over some hills, checking for a flash of pink or a glint of something before he continues onward. But there’s nothing except the endless Arctic and some blue dye that’s been scattered around. He’s brushing the snow off his shoulders, when he notices the purplish glint of a Portal just a couple paces away from him. 

Nether, Dream thinks. He’s got to find the Fortress, get some blaze rods and then get back to the same portal, in the same freakin’ Arctic. (But he can bring some lava with him, right? To keep him warm? It worked last time, when Bow and Flame were the only ones who were chasing him. 

Dream steps through the Portal, hoping that the bucket of water won’t evaporate in his pack, and he goes from a freezing temperature, to overwhelming heat

                                                          ***                                                                

He’s on a pathway, snaking its way toward something else, and Dream’s instantly wary. He’s shifting, ready to jump off the side of the pathway before he notices the huge lava pool that’s below him. 

“Okay,” he mutters. “Then I guess we’re following the path.” He holds onto the compass around his neck and darts forward. 

There’s a bunch of cobblestone and a wood bridge that’s just… it’ll burn too easy, Dream notes. But it also might help to keep Hunters off Dream’s trail. Dream pushes his way through and there’s another portal sitting right in the middle of this huge place. There’s a chest a couple steps away which Dream riffles through and ultimately thinks that it’s useless. 

And he looks at the portal, sticks a hand through it and then takes it back. He really should go find the Nether Fortress. But, the portal’s also ticking his curiosity and Puffy always told Dream that he’s never satisfied. 

And if this portal takes him to a different one, then he won’t have to go back to the Arctic! 

So, he steps through.

                                                          ***                                                                

Niki laughs and runs her fingers through Dream’s hair. “You’re just full of questions today, aren’t you duckling?”

Dream nods, and points at the bowl she’d been mixing. “What’s in it?” He questions again and Niki laughs. She’s almost twenty-one years old, and Mom and her have been together for almost a year now. 

“Oh, it’s just something really quick that I’m making.” Niki says, smiling. “Some jelly tarts, maybe a pie later on. Want to help?”

Dream nods eagerly, and there’s a brief moment of: what am I meant to do? Before Niki gives him a bowl and a whisk and shows him how to mix the ingredients without making a mess of himself and the kitchen. 

When Mom comes home from Foolish’s doctor appointment, there’s cooling pastries in the kitchen and two sleeping people on the couch.

                                                          ***                                                                

He’s standing on a town. That’s the only way he can explain it, and he’s staring across at this huge building. It’s red and stone bricks build on top of the water itself; and Dream takes a quick step forward, eyes dark. He wonders why, exactly, it’s there. 

(You can hide there, Dream. For a little bit. Techno won’t know you’re here.)

And so he breaks into a run, and slides into the house quickly and quietly. He takes a deep breath, and looks through the windows, his mask feeling plain in this colorful world. There’s a huge castle to the left of him, a quartz building to the right and right in front of him looks like a courthouse and another house that’s been abandoned. 

(Hide, hide, hide, hide, they’re here. Can’t you hear the heartbeat? Let’s go.)

Dream takes off, and he hears a quick shout behind him, but it doesn’t matter. He’s got to go, and he slides to the left and runs to the castle. It’s big enough for Dream to climb the tops of it and get away from whoever’s calling his name right now. 

The compass burns hot on Dream’s skin.

                                                          ***                                                                

“Mom.” Dream says, lips stiff. “Mom I didn’t do it, okay? Whatever they’re saying, I didn’t do it, Mom. Mom, please.” Dream’s sixteen.

He’s scared. He doesn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, but whatever it is, it’s apparently bad enough that a Hunter’s after him. Niki is holding onto Puffy’s hands, and Foolish is crying, he’s reaching for Dream. 

“‘Dream. Dream!” Foolish keeps saying, reaching for him. He wants to be hugged, and Puffy’s holding him back. 

“Duckling,” Puffy says, her eyes wet. “Dream.” 

And his head snaps to meet her eyes. She never calls him Dream. Niki guides Foolish further into the home, all the while he keeps looking back at Dream, and Puffy looks away, swallows, and then remeets her son’s eyes. “Dream,” she says again. “I can’t…. We can’t…”

“Mom,” Dream says again, voice breaking. “Mom, please. I didn’t, Mom.”

“No, Dream.” She says. “You’ve got a Hunter on your back. And with Foolish, we can’t. I’m sorry, duckling.”

And she closes the door, and Dream’s left with a chill right to his very bones.

“Mom,” he whispers. “Puffy…”

                                                          ***                                                                

And that’s the first face he sees once he’s climbed to the top of the castle. Puffy, looking at him with her mouth open, calling his name. His hands shake, and he takes a moment to drink her in. Her hair’s the same as always, and she’s wearing Netherite. That’s weird.

Only Hunters get Netherite. 

She’s not a…?

(She is, she is, she is. Stay away from me, stay away from me, stay away from me.)

                                                          ***                                                                

He takes a look at the others, too. There’s a boy with bandages all over his arms, a almost-naked guy walking with him, a creeper hybrid (Warden, stay away), and⸺Cat.

(He’s not alone, but he is alone. But everyone else had Netherite except the boy does that mean they’re all Hunters? Is the boy an apprentice?)

Dream feels a tear roll down his cheek. Puffy’s his mother, sue him. Doesn’t mean he can’t miss her. Why are there so many Hunters? He jerks forward, loses his balance just slightly, and hears the creeper call up a “be careful,” and Dream shrinks back and lets loose a hiss. 

The creeper hisses back and Dream bares his teeth. Cat doesn’t look like he really cares all that much, but he just calls a simple “Don’t fall. Remember what happened last time you tried to climb the castle?”

Dream says nothing back. Cat raised an eyebrow and waits, impatient and taps his foot. “You’re just not gonna say anything?” Cat calls again, and Dream edges toward the edge of the Castle’s back. 

“Dream?” Cat calls again, and Dream snaps his head over. 

“You don’t know my name,” he shouts finally. “You’ve never learned it. How did you find out?”

“Your name?” Cat calls. “Why wouldn’t I know it?”

“Duckling?” Puffy calls, looking worried. 

Of course, Dream thinks, glancing back to Puffy. Why wouldn’t he know his name? They’ve got his mother on their side. 

“Dream?” Is that⸺Bow? Flame?⸺“What’re you doing up there?”

Dream swallows. Five Hunters. God, he’s really in trouble isn’t he. 

He jumps.

                                                          ***                                                                

Dream is sixteen, and he’s on his own. He’s got one Hunter on his tail, and he’s killed the Hunter a million times. Dream’s been killed a million times, and he’s killed the Dragon a million times. Each time, it resets him with the Hunter to a different World and Dream doesn’t know why. 

He’s Captain Cara Puffy’s kid. He’s got to survive for his brother, and for his mothers. The crystal in his pocket hums warmly. At night, Dream takes it out and he knows that it honed into his Home World, and he wonders what’ll happen if he takes it home.

The Hunters would find him and his parents, wouldn’t they? They’d hurt his family, just to get to him. And isn’t that ironic? Dream hasn’t hurt anyone. 

He hasn’t. Dream doesn’t know where Wilbur and Tommy went, he doesn’t know how Technoblade managed to escape but he wasn’t involved. He wasn’t. 

Foolish comes to Dream’s mind. His birthday already passed and he’s what? Ten now? Maybe older, but Dream can’t quite remember what age he is, let alone his brother. (Age didn’t matter when he was sixteen and on his parents’ doorsteps, with a Hunter closing in on time; age didn’t matter when he was almost seventeen and threw himself off a cliff because that’s better than dying to a Hunter. Age doesn’t matter when you’re on the run.)

But that hasn’t happened yet. Right now, he’s still sixteen running from One Hunter.

                                                          ***                                                                

Dream rolls to a crouch, and takes off again. He’s got Technoblade, Cat, Bow, Flame, Puffy and the Warden after him. Dream keeps going, oblivious to his mother’s calls of his name and his nickname. He can't, he won’t go back. This is a trick, he thinks to himself and he looks over at the forest that’s beside him and the buildings thats in front of him.

He makes a rash decision, and runs into the woods.

[itmightbeneb]

Small post-prison Dream drabble

CW: (almost) panic attacks

If this gets a good enough reception, I may do more :)

It was raining, but Dream couldn't stop to appreciate it. Appreciating rain? Dream almost laughed at the idea, but after months of nothing but lava and obsidian, the cold and wet was a nice change of pace. There had been water in the prison, he supposed, but it was warm, heated by the lava all around him, warm and dirty after months of use. The cold was a nice change of pace. And this rain, this clean water, might actually do something to clean the blood of his skin. It was certainly soothing his burns and scars, burns and scars Quackity and Sam would have to pay for.

Dream needed more stuff, he needed diamonds then netherite, he needed enchantments and potions and farms, better food as well, he doubted he could handle another potato, he doubted he could handle much at all for the moment but that was a problem for later him. Bread would sustain him for now, although he did keep a few extra potatoes in his inventory just in case.

The problem was, he had nothing. Well that wasn't entirely true, he had some bread, a handful of potatoes and a freedom he hadn't had in months, but other than that, nothing. Not even a wooden pickaxe to his name and the entire server wanting him dead. Well then, better a wooden pickaxe than nothing, he thought. He had to start somewhere.

Breaking down a tree was more difficult than he remembered, or maybe he was just remembering what it was like with an efficiency V netherite axe. He might be weaker now, he might be more vulnerable, did the prison affect his muscles that much? He'd still managed to kill Tommy so he can't have wasted away too much, but then why was this stone taking so long to mine? He didn't have the weakness effect from the elder guardians anymore, but he wondered if the months of constant weakness had affected his muscles. Well that was just another thing on the to-do list, get stronger again. Maybe strength potions would work, but for that he'd have to go to the nether. He was a long way off being prepared for that.

After getting a stone pickaxe and axe, Dream wondered if caving or strip mining would be better. He didn't want to be in any cramped space if he could avoid it, but in order to get armour and weapons, in order to protect himself, he'd have to go in. Both had their benefits and downsides. Strip mining was more cramped, darker, closer to being like the prison he had only just escaped. But, if he was weaker after his stay there, it offered fewer mobs to deal with. Less chance to die right after he made it out. He couldn't die now, not after everything that had happened, not after he finally made it out. He had to get his revenge on Sam and Quackity, and that meant staying alive, getting gear, getting stronger. Punz as well, Punz had betrayed him. Went to Tommy and Tubbo and Sam to put him away. He'd cut ties with Punz though, he was on the list, just further down. No, it was Sam and Quackity that needed to pay the most. That meant going underground where there was no daylight and lava around any corner. So, strip mining it was then, less chance of dying was always a good decision. Plus, Dream thought, he couldn't let a stupid fear stop him from going where he pleased. He wasn't Tommy, getting scared whenever he was near a plains biome, he was Dream, a god, someone who had survived worse that a stupid obsidian box. And he was going to make them pay for putting him there.

He dug down to Y=11, finding some coal and iron on the way down. This was good, this was normal, he ignored the tightness in his chest. Although, it was eased by the chill air. He didn't know he could miss the cold, but here he was, feeling nostalgia over a temperature. A temperature, he quickly realised that he couldn't handle as well as he used to. Spending so much time next to a sea of lava, in the sweltering heat, had changed the way his body handled temperature, it seemed. He quickly made a torch and held it in his off hand. Fire would warm him up, enough that he didn't die at least. The furnaces smelting iron also helped warm him up. He made sure to note that wherever he ended up staying better be well insulated. He couldn't go for a desert though, the heat would be welcome but he wanted rain. Maybe a jungle? They were tricky to navigate which would help deter people from finding him. Warm, but not the heat of lava, wet, tricky to find. Perfect.

Enough iron had been smelted to make a pickaxe and a bucket. A good start. Strip mining had never been Dreams favourite, he got bored easily and, unless he managed to hyperfocus on the task, could never pay attention long enough to find anything. However today was different, while he did find himself getting bored and wanting to change tasks, he managed to force himself to continue mining, placing torches periodically to prevent spawns. The tightness in his chest eased a little at the moment.

Eventually he had enough iron for armour. It wouldn't be as strong as the netherite he was used to, the netherite he needed if he were to survive an encounter with another player, but it was better than nothing. Hadn't Technoblade beaten Quackity while only wearing iron armour? Although that was Quackity, Dream would need better armour to survive an encounter with a competent player.

Dream spotted diamonds, the last few he'd need for a full set of armour and tools. There was a problem though, they were across a large lava lake. He could already feel the heat, humid and heavy just like in the cell. The cell he'd only just escaped from. He could do this though, just bridge across the lava, grab the diamonds and head out. He'd need to deal with more lava in the nether anyway, this was nothing. This couldn't harm him. It just simply couldn't.

Dream shifted, edging across the lake. Slowly. He was usually so fast, it must have been the effects of the elder guardians, he told himself, his weakened muscles from the elder guardians, that must be it. Heat rose up to meet him, making him sweat under his heavy armour. His armour was so heavy, his muscles were weaker but were his bones as well? How long had it been since he had seen sunlight? There had been a small amount of time today, before he went mining, and it had been blinding. Too bright and yet not enough at the same time. He wanted to just lay in the sunshine with grass beneath his fingers forever. He had to bring his vitamin D levels up again. He wondered how many vitamins he was deficient in now, thanks to Sam. His body was wrecked and it was all Sam's fault, and Tommy's and Tubbo's as well.

The sound of the lava though, was what almost got him. It bubbled and popped rhythmically, always the same. In the cell there had been exactly three sounds: the elder guardians coming to weaken him, the constant ticking of the clock striking its way into his brain, and the bubble and pop of the lava preventing him from getting out. He knew every small sound lava could make, down to the smallest detail, and it was here again now. Except this time he had blocks and air above the lava. And, he realised while quickly unshifting and looking through his inventory, a water bucket. The hissing of obsidian being made was music to his ears, gone was the sound, almost. There was still a layer under the obsidian that was still quietly bubbling away, but the sound was obscured. Dream looked at the obsidian, that tightness in his chest was back. He ignored it, he had exclusively walked on obsidian for the last few months, he could do this again. He did. He walked, slowly, almost too slowly, over to the diamonds and mined them up. It was an eight vein, more than enough to complete everything. A couple diamonds to spare would always help anyway.

Next came enchantments, or the nether. He should probably check what he had in his ender chest, it had been so long he had almost forgotten anything that was in there, but the only ones he knew of were by where people lived (for obvious reasons) and he didn't exactly want to go there. So, he figured, off to the nether it was. Blaze powder and pearls were what he needed. Unenchanted diamond armour, he was prepared enough, he was over prepared if anything. Unless he found a player.Dream quickly found another lava pool, better to make a new portal than risk being found in a known one. The lava raised the same reaction as last time, but he needed it this time, he couldn't get rid of it. Well he could, he had a diamond pickaxe, but that was slow. Dream wasn't exactly known for being slow. He placed a block in the lava and the water next to it, steam came up to meet him as obsidian was formed. Breaking the block he placed caused more steam and more obsidian, but the base of the portal was complete. He made an upside down L shape with some cobble, placing water at the top. Now it was time to pick up the lava. Why couldn't he pick up the lava? He used to throw himself into lava for fun and how his stupid brain was saying he couldn't handle it through a bucket? Dream's breathing quickened, this was bad. He picked the water back up and made the rest of the lake into obsidian. The diamond pick would be useful after all. He told himself it was because he needed extra obsidian for an ender chest.

The purple spirals of the portal stared at Dream. He needed to go through. He needed to go through and find a fortress, not die, not have a panic attack, and get out. The first three points would be easy, the last? He had held it off so far, he could continue to do so. Until he was the most powerful person on the server again, he would not allow himself to rest enough for his brain to catch up on what happened. When he was safe, when he was feared, he could allow himself to examine his mental health, make it stronger again. He couldn't be seen as weak, they'd kill him, or put him back in the prison. He couldn't be weak. Dream stepped through the portal.

There were a few signs of life, but it didn't seem like he was in a well trafficked area. Not the best spawn, but he could work with it for now. He sneaked constantly, on the off chance someone else was around. The heat if the nether reminded him of the cell. At least there wasn't much obsidian around. He had spawned in a warped forest, so he quickly dug into the wall a little and stared at an enderman. He was too far for it to reach him, but he could reach it. It dropped a pearl. One half down, now he just needed to find a fortress. He added angry endermen to the list of sounds he wasn't sure why he missed, but did nonetheless.

The endermen reminded him of a certain hybrid waiting back in the overworld. He'd have to get into contact with Ranboo again.

He had never minded the heat of the nether before, but now it suffocated him. He longed for the wind, even the stale but cold air from caves, but he had to press on. He told himself the humidity, or the heat, was the reason he had difficulty breathing.

Eventually, Dream found a fortress. The blaze spawner was pretty easy to find as well. Finally, luck had decided to give him a break. The first blaze he killed didn't drop a rod, but the second one did. Blocking himself away, he pulled out a crafting table. The blaze rod got turned into power, then combined with the pearl to make an eye of ender. Finally, Dream surrounded the eye in obsidian, creating an ender chest.They have off a faint glow. Being boxed into the wall with netherack all around, the ender chest was Dream's only source of light. He had missed the darkness, the lava had always illuminated his cell, giving off a bright orange light that he couldn't escape. The chest was different though, softer, easier on the eyes.

Dream opened his ender chest. He found his spare set of netherite armour, not fully enchanted but he could make it work for now, he'd get books in a bit to make it stronger. He'd have to be stronger this time. This could never happen again. There was also a bunch of netherite, he'd upgrade his tools in a bit, once he was out of the nether. And, of course, there was his trident, his riptide III trident. Some small voice inside him hoped it was still raining when he got back to the surface.

He had God apples now. How appropriate, he thought, that the man who can bring back the dead, a walking god, get access again to his God apples.Dream ditched the diamond armour and tools, and pulled on the netherite. Nightmare. He still needed to train, get his strength back, brew potions. But he was back, and the people who threw him into the obsidian prison were going to pay.

He made his way back to the portal, back to the overworld. He had to admit to himself, however much he hated to do so, that he now hated the nether. It was too hot, too much lava, the bubble and pop sounding over and over and over just like in the prison, the stupid obsidian box. He'd use the overworld for travel when he could. But, he thought to himself, he couldn't show weakness to others, they couldn't know how they'd managed to infect his mind, he would travel via the nether when with others. If he ever was with others. Was there anyone left that didn't hate him? That hadn't left him? Dream pushed those thoughts aside, forced himself to climb back to the surface. The cold air of the caves was a relief from the nether, but it was the rain he was seeking.

Dream hopped onto the grass and just stood there for a few seconds, letting the cold soothing rain hit his face. He'd get too cold soon, he knew that his body's ability to regulate temperature was ruined by living next to lava for- how long was it? Dream didn't know, doubted he ever would for certain.He had a riptide trident, a water bucket, and feather falling netherite boots. Dream smiled, genuinely smiled for the first time in a long long while. Pulling out his trident, he pushed himself into the air. Wind and rain whipped his face, he didn't know he could miss this. Dream flew through the air, he was finally free.

Now time to grind, then hunt down Sam.

[lauranceofmeteli]

hi im gonna start off by saying that u are entitled to your opinions and i'm not looking to get into like 2016 shipping discourse i also dont think laurmau in its current canon state is perfect im just a huge laurance enthusiast and want to correct a few things on here :]

im not gonna argue your first point btw lol jess's writing is Weird every character has that one thing and taking way too long to listen to aphmau telling him to tone it down is his

however.

"Aphmau needed someone who could handle situations well and wouldn’t slaughter an entire room of people because he got jealous. And he wasn’t that."

this is just?? blatantly untrue?? i'm not going the fault you for thinking that tho tbh bc in fanon and a few times in canon jo9 garroth and sk laurance have been compared as the "evil" versions of the characters, ive talked about this on here before. but if you watch the actual episodes involved with both they are clearly very different. while garroths whole thing is fueled by his jealousy of seeing aphmau kiss laurance (who, please note, he is aware is a good person), laurances is fueled while he is watching aphmau be forced into a marriage she clearly does not want. and everyone always forgets that it wasn't just aphmau he was worried about, they were going to kill him after the ceremony. so yeah he might have went overboard bc of the shadow knight thing but i think a little violence isn't an overreaction to seeing your close friend be forced into marriage with someone who, to your knowledge, IS GOING TO KILL YOU. jealousy had nothing to do with anything.

laurance didn't just leave bc he was upset about the pregnancy. it's literally explained why he leaves for the nether in the scene he leaves for the nether. I'll transcribe the scene (its 22:35 on the s2ep100 btw if u want to check)

SASHA: So, what are you planning to do now?

LAURANCE: I have to answer the calling.

SASHA: Has it gotten that bad?

laurance looks down the ground

SASHA: I see. So she would be dead if you saw her again.

laurance then changes the subject and the scene moves on

we can assume the "she" sasha talks about is aphmau since she is laurances lord and yknow shadow knight stuff (if u don't i can explain i don't mind)

in your defence, i'm sure hearing about the pregnancy was part of what pushed him over the line, but he was getting worse mentally across the whole season he was going to have to leave eventually pregnancy or not.

you also have an issue with how long he's gone, which would be understandable if he was in the nether moping about his crush not liking him back. but he isn't? a lot of mcds writing has every character center their lives around aphmau but this just isn't one of those times. he's doing his own thing in there! he has his revolution going! shad himself seems to personally want laurance gone so he probably doesn't get out enough to just pop into phoenix drop to catch up. gene directly says that in the show btw (s3ep2 24:42)

GENE: Well, well, well. It's not every day we find you outside of your keep.

plus the sort of mocking sarcastic tone he says it in implies laurance definitely doesn't leave his fortress much.

i'm not going to quote the whole scene at you, its too long to transcribe in a tumblr post. i'll just sum it up. laurance has a literal army against shad, he's enough of an issue to shad that shad knows him by name, and shad refers to his fortress as a safehold which implies he's protecting other people within it. i'd say at that point he's worked up enough of a case to justify being away with no contact for so long, PLUS the initial issue of the calling and not wanting to hurt aphmau.

and one last thing

"He could’ve literally just left and went to New Meteli and lived there if he didn’t want to speak to Aphmau. But no."

no he couldn't. pregnancy aside, he still had the calling. and there's less canon proof for this but, new meteli would be a shit idea for him bc i doubt a shadow knight transformation cares whether you kill your love whos a lord or your sister whos a lord.

AGAIN, you are fully entitled to your opinions i just wanted to clear up a thing or two bc i like laurance :]

Annoying people drowns away the bad feelings.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

Laurence wasn’t a good love interest for aphmau in MCD

This is going off of memory, so correct me where I’m wrong, but:

He blatantly disrespected her boundaries. She asked him several times not to call her ‘my love’ at the beginning of S1, and he continued for a long while afterwards. She also displayed quite obvious discomfort with his flirting, telling him often to stop and to calm down, yet he continued that as well.

He was also far too angry. Like I know it was because he was a shadow knight, but Aphmau needed someone who could handle situations well and wouldn’t slaughter an entire room of people because he got jealous. And he wasn’t that.

He would’ve been better off with me.

He left. Like, I know he felt betrayed at the end of S2, Aphmau was pregnant and he knew it couldn’t have been his. But I don’t remember him confronting her/talking to her about it. He just left her without an explanation. And after a while of him being missing she probably figured out why he wasn’t there, but imagine how worried she was. Aaron had just died and Laurence wasn’t anywhere to be seen, she would’ve jumped to the worst of assumptions. And she was pregnant, that kind of stress could’ve lead her to lose the baby, which would only put her through more stress. And I understand if he left for a few days, a few months if I’m pushing it, because he needed to cool down. But he was gone for over three years. And that was longer for him than her due to how time works in the Nether (in MCD atleast). To him, if we are keeping in line with the canon facts about MCD, he was gone for about 42 years (as a day = two weeks in the nether, and he was gone for atleast 1,095 days in the over world, which then equates to 15,330 in the nether, which is 2,190 weeks, and therefore just over 42 years), with some margin for error because I can’t math. Meaning he had 42 years to think over what happened, to get over it. But he didn’t. He had 42 years to return, to apologise for leaving. But he didn’t. Fuck, he could’ve just popped out and said ‘yo this is why I left’ and returned to the nether.

Another point about the nether, he was there for 42 years, with the man and the people who tortured him and tried to kill the ‘love of his life’ several times. He could’ve literally just left and went to New Meteli and lived there if he didn’t want to speak to Aphmau. But no.

That said, I don’t mind him as a character. The points I’ve mentioned do irritate me, however I can still enjoy him and his relationships to other people. But his relationship with Aphmau really wasn’t good for her and obviously wasn’t what she wanted as she got with Aaron behind his back.

I do like their relationship in MS, however (if you ignore Jess’ strange interest in writing her characters as creepy pervs) and it is one I don’t mind rooting for.

[sleepy-writer]

Alternate History - Chapter 8

Commissioned by @metzger12

“So you are one of Ash’waren’s  daughters?” Syphile was escorting her young charge and the Sullisin’rune  friend to the slave-markets of Chel’el’sussoloth. Now that Ariel was allowed  to leave the school-cavern, Syphile had decided she might as well escort the young  potentially-to-be heiress to buy a slave that could be her bodyguard until  Quain’tana would deign to put the Fallen under Ariel’s control.

“Yes.” The older girl nodded lightly.

“It’s nice you two are friends.” The  tainted female stated softly. “Perhaps we can visit Fuzzy after we’re done  here. It’s doing quite well, unlike my cloak of course.”

The two girls giggled in answer,  following her.

“So where exactly are we going?” Ariel  softly asked, feeling a bit self-concious in the clothes the Sullisin’rune  had put her in before Syphile had appeared to take them.

“The slave-market.” Syphile answered,  resisting her urge to smirk at the get-up of her young charge. The two small  forms dressed in white and light purple were clashing horrible with her own  blood-red and black get-up. “And perhaps the Black Dragon if we can’t find  something around here. Having a slave that can fight will really keep your  back free should those boys try something again outside of Orthorrbae.”

“You think they’d still do that after  five years?” Ariel shrunk a bit, almost automatically looking around in  distrust.

“I do believe you told me about what they  did during last year’s tower-battle?” The older female softly counter-asked.  “Or rather, what the Vloz’ress did. It’s obvious that they still want to make  you pay for being in their class. They can’t do it in Orthorrbae anymore  since the teachers are watching, making it all the more likely that they’d  try something outside.” She really wanted to spare Ariel more upset, but the  girl had to know how things were before something worse happened.

“Probably also because I can’t go back to  the tower anymore anyway.” Ariel muttered darkly, refering to the letter  Syphile and Kel’noz had told her about just two days ago. Snadhya’rune had  discovered that she was a girl and made a claim. By all appearances, the  other Headmasters would not back Kel’noz in keeping her in the Towers,  meaning she’d have to leave Orthorrbae after just five years of teaching.

“That too.” Syphile nodded lightly. “You  can still see Faen during her breaks, at least?” She looked at the  Sullisin’rune walking beside them.

“Yeah.” Looking down sadly, Ariel did not  notice the man she was on collision-course with, running straight into him.

“Hey, watch it, brat!” Despite the small  girl hardly being enough to faze him, the man was certainly annoyed as if she  had pushed him into a pile of tiktikki-shit. “The nether do you think you’re  doing!?”

“Leave her alone.” Syphile shot forward,  positioning herself between him and the kids. She could smell the chocolate  on him. Great, high people... Those were always fun.

“Teaching a brat not to walk against  people.” He was just a bit small than she was, though his weird hairdo  certainly added a few inches. “You raise her? Did a crap job, that’s for  certain.”

“Maybe your mother should have taught you  not to spend all your money on chocolate.” Syphile snarled back, seeing from  her eyecorner that Ariel and Faen had moved back a bit. Good girls. “How  about we both just move on and not get to blows.”

“You’re one to talk, bitch.” There was a  reason why Syphile had wanted Ariel to get another teacher for combat... the  most important being that she [i]sucked[/i] at it for the most part. Perhaps  had Kel’noz been there, the punch would never have hit. As he was at  Orthorrbae however, the tainted female did get hit. And for the first time in  a good while, she felt [i]pain[/i]. Perhaps later, she’d marvel at him  apparently being able to hit her hard enough for her to feel it.

Ariel screamed, much like she had done  when Mel had attacked them on the way to the exit of the fortress five years  ago. But this time there were no guards to rush to their defense.

Syphile snarled again, holding her  stomach with one hand before attacking the man in turn. She felt anger burn  in her mind while her hand connected with his jaw. From her eye-corner she  saw that his slave seemed to not care at all about what was happening.

They exchanged some more punches, every  bit of pain seemingly fueling her anger. In the end, even while being bad at  it, the untrained commoner could not win of a trained Val.

Breathing heavily, she looked down upon  her opponent. He was on the ground in front of her, neck broken with the  force she had thrown him away from her. Well, that was awkward.

“Syphile?” Ariel whispered, though the  tainted female only heard her because the small group was dead-silent.

“That... was new.” Quain’tana’s adopted  daughter moved back a few steps.

“It was me.” Faen spoke up, tears in her  eyes and voice. “I... I am not that good with my empathy yet... and...”

“And it got out of control?” Syphile had  heard of that happening to untrained empaths, but had figured that a daughter  of Ash’waren would have had enough training to have it under control, even  this young. Well, she’d not say anything just yet. It was obvious that the  girl felt bad enough as is. “I guess that can happen.”

“What now?” Ariel moved closer to her,  wrapping her arms around herself while looking at the dead male.

The tainted female looked around. Aside  from the slave, no one had been around. Or if they had been, they had left.  “Let’s go get a drink. I need it. You’re coming too.” She added in an  afterthought to the dark elf slave. It was probably not worth anything in a  fight, but in the worst case she could probably get a fair bit of ada for a  dark elf. “I know a place nearby.” She walked a bit tenderly, her body sore  from the punishment she had endured, though she tried to hide it as much as  she could.