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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

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Sweet as Cyanide-Dream

This is a Dream x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! This follows cannon (ish), but does not follow cannon dialogue. For my own sake, I have written my own dialogue for the scenes that happen in this imagine. I just have a really hard time copying dialogue like that and I really enjoy writing my own stuff like this. I hope that is okay and I hope you all enjoy!

You can find a part two here!

Check out my masterlist here!

The whole server thinks that Y/N is being forced to stand by Dream’s side, but they couldn’t be more wrong. They all believe they’re just a sweet innocent creature, but many times people forget that sweet things can be poisonous.

Y/N’s POV

For everything Dream has done, I have stood right beside him. Both figuratively and literally. I have supported just about every decision Dream has made for the Dreamsmp. I have also stood beside him while he made these decisions in the physical sense. Many times when Dream would go ‘overboard’ or ‘crazy’ I would ‘reel him back in’ making myself seem sweeter and more approachable to those who dared oppose my lover. When Tommy was exiled, I went with Dream on his daily visits and when Dream forced Tommy to put everything he had in a hole, I would convince Dream to let Tommy keep one thing so he wouldn’t have to completely restart. I was Dream’s other half… Dream’s better half.

Oftentimes I would be questioned as to why I was with him. Many didn’t believe me when I told them the truth. They came up with the idea that Dream held me captive and forced me to be with him, which wasn’t true at all. The truth is I love Dream. I love him with all my heart. I also love the power that comes with being Dream’s lover. Nobody questioning my decisions or my orders. Being treated with respect because everyone was too scared to face my boyfriend wrath… Well almost everyone.

Tommy never seemed to fear Dream. Tommy stood his ground, fought for what he believed in, and never gave in easily to Dream unless something that he truly cared for was being threatened. That’s why Dream wanted to put a stop to it, once and for all. Together we built a base, far away from the main area of the SMP. Somewhere we could keep everyone’s prized possession, but mostly Tommy’s prized possession, the discs. The discs meant everything to Tommy, literal wars have been fought over them. Which is why we had to keep them safe. After the base was built and filled, Dream invited Tommy and Tubbo to ‘talk’. I waited underground as the three of them fought.

I waited in anticipation in my little seat I had made as the elevator descended. There stood a gobsmacked Tommy and Tubbo and a smirking Dream. I could hear Dream giving his big speech over how he had everything anyone cared for in this lair. “The discs!” Tommy exclaimed, rushing forward, carefully stepping on the gold shrine built for the discs. Tommy reached out to grab one of the discs, but was quickly cut off, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” My eyes drifted over to Dream who now had a sword to Tubbo’s throat. Tommy’s eyes widened and he quickly walked back off of the shrine.

“Follow me boys, let me show you something,” Dream called, letting go of Tubbo and walking toward, what I have been calling, “The Hall of Attachments”. Tommy’s eyes scanned the room and locked with mine, “Y/N?” He whispered, causing me to nod and stand up. “You better do as he says Tommy,” I chimed sweetly at the boy, “You wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt, would you?” I questioned with a small pout on my lips. Tommy quickly shook his head no before following after Dream to walk down the hall.

I followed lazily behind the three as Dream showed off everything that the two of us had collected. Techno’s favorite axe, Sapnap’s beloved fish, Wilbur’s best friend, and even Tommy’s adored cow, Henry. “We have it all down here Tommy. Everything everyone cares about. The thing that they are attached to the most. It’s here. I control it.” Dream announced with a huge smirk on his face. Tommy quickly turned to me with wide eyes, “Y/N you’re dating a psychopath. You must realize that right?” Dream’s laughter didn’t give me a chance to answer, “You say psycho, I say dedicated… Now I have one final piece of business to attend to.”

Dream drew his sword and looked at Tubbo, “I’m going to have to kill you now Tubbo. It’s the only way,” “NO!” Tommy screamed, moving in front of his best friend. “NO! I won’t let you do it. You say you need me on this server? If you kill Tubbo, I’ll kill myself. Then what big man?” “Tommy. It’s alright. It’s time,” Tubbo said gently, slightly breaking my heart. “Move Tommy,” Dream demanded, going to move forward. I quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist, “Dream. Let them say goodbye at least,” I slightly begged, looking him in the eyes, hoping he would get the message. If they got to say goodbye, maybe Tommy would be more complacent and compliant. Dream gave me a small nod before turning back to the two boys, “Since Y/N asked so nicely, you two can say your goodbyes. We’re going to give you a few minutes. Make use of that time.” I threw the boys an ‘I’m so sorry’ look as Dream dragged me over to the corner.

“How do you think it’s going?” Dream whispered, glancing at the two boys. I gave a half shrug with a small smile, “They seem to be following along just fine and it seems that they’re actually going along with the plan. Although, it does make me a bit sad. Are you sure we have to kill Tubbo?” I asked, looking over at the two boys that were hugging very tightly. Dream rolled his eyes and grabbed my other hand, “You know I do sweetness. If there were any other way, you know I’d do it. But this is the way it has to be.” I let out a sigh and gave a slight nod in understanding.

We watched the two boys hug for a few moments more, Tubbo mumbling words of reassurance to his best friend… his brother before they both turned to the corner where Dream and I stood. Tubbo gave us a little nod and we approached. I was in front of Dream and I wrapped my arms around the small boy and hugged him tight to my chest, kissing the top of his head. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured in the boy’s ear. A small shrug bounced off the boys shoulders, “It’s alright, Goodbye Y/N,” “Goodbye Tubbo.”

I let go of Tubbo and moved to stand next to Tommy, wrapping a comforting arm around him. Dream moved and took his place standing before Tubbo, drawing his sword. “Sorry, Tubbo. This is the way it has to be, you understand,” Dream smirked, bringing his arm back to stab the young boy, but it never moved forward.

“Sorry Dream,” The familiar voice of Punz called out from the nether portal that we had built in this base. All of our heads snapped to the man who stood alone in the purple magic. “Punz?” Dream questioned, really confused as to why his most loyal pawn had appeared and was apologizing, “Sorry Dream,” He repeats taking a few steps forward, “You should have paid me more.” I felt my breath stop in my throat as almost everyone came through the nether portal. “You came!” Tommy cheered, a tear streaming down his face as he looked at the members with overwhelming joy.

Dream, thrown off by the sudden appearance of everyone, lost concentration on Tubbo. “The discs!” Tommy screetchs, ripping himself from my side, running to one shrine, “Tubbo the other!” Tubbo, using Dream’s distraction to his advantage, bolted to the shrine. Together the boys ripped the discs off the shrines and placed them into the ender chests that were placed beside them. Dream turned and glared at the boys. Tommy catching sight of this screams, “Get behind them!” Tommy ran past me and grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind every one decorated in enchanted netherite armor, weapons on display.

Dream slowly turned back around to face the server. “Oh… Hey guys…” Dream greeted everyone awkwardly. “Dream, what the hell is this place?” Puffy questioned, glaring at the man before her. Dream awkwardly shuffled, glancing around, making quick eye contact with me, before looking back to Puffy. “Well… This is my base,” He answered. I watched everyone look around the place, most of their gazes falling on the Hall of Attachments. “And what is that?” Someone asked, pointing to the hall.

Dream remained silent, not telling. “Go on Dream,” Tommy urged, taking a few steps toward my boyfriend, “Tell them. Tell them what you told me.” Dream still remained silent again, looking down to the ground. “Tell them Dream!” Tommy boomed, bursting through the crowd. “Tell them how all you care about is power. Tell them you are controlling their things so that you can control them! Go on! Tell them!” Tommy demands. “Tommy,” Dream attempts to console the child, but Tommy wasn’t listening.

At this point everyone was slowly looking through the hall, seeing everything that the two of us had collected over the months. Dream makes his way to the front of the group, “Guys, listen!” He says, attempting to get everyone to stop, but it was clear that no one was on his side. “Sapnap, can I borrow a pickaxe?” I heard Tommy question from behind the crowd. There was a moment of silence before Tommy pushed his way to the front, pickaxe now in his hand. “Here Dream,” He said, punching a hole in the ground. “Put your things in this hole,” I couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped my lips. Tommy looked over his shoulder at me before turning back to Dream, “And you know what. Because your girlfriend was so kind to me in exile, I’ll let you keep one thing,” Tommy announced.

“Tommy, please,” Dream attempted to reason again. Tommy was having none of it. “One thing,” he punched, “The rest in this hole.” Dream hesitated, but obeyed. He stripped everything, but his helmet off of his body and threw the rest in the hole Tommy had created. “Good boy,” Tommy taunted before jumping down the hole and collecting everything. Tommy came back up from the hole wearing Dream’s armor and wielding Dream’s sword.

“Now what?” Dream asked. If I were anyone else, I wouldn’t have been able to tell. But Dream was nervous. His whole plan was just foiled, the entire SMP had literally come crashing down on him. Tommy, of all people, had just robbed him of his things leaving him utterly defenceless. “What now? Now… Now I think I’ll kill you with your own weapons,” Tommy pretended to ponder before taking a swing at Dream. From the way Dream reeled back, I could tell that the blow did a lot of damage.

“Tommy stop!” Dream cried, attempting to run away from the 16 year old. Tommy chased after Dream, swinging wildly after the man. I watched with baited breath as Tommy eventually caught up to Dream and killed him. I didn’t even have to look at my arm to know that Tommy had taken a cannon life.

Everyone was in shock at what had just happened. Tommy, the youngest person on the server, had just killed Dream. The man that demanded to be viewed as a God. The elevator sounded, causing everyone’s attention to shift. Dream came back down, staring at Tommy in both anger and shock. I could tell Dream wanted nothing more than to take Tommy’s last life, but there was no way he could.

“Tommy, we’re friends. Aren’t we? Can we please talk-” Tommy didn’t let him finish. Instead he let out a roar before running forward and striking yet another blow. This time when Dream ran away, Tommy pulled out Dream’s crossbow and shot him, taking yet another cannon life. My heart thudded in fear. I knew Tommy was angry and I knew he also wanted nothing more than to take my boyfriend’s last cannon life. “Come down Dream,” Tommy called in anger when the elevator didn’t return back down. “Face me like the man you claim to be. Let me-” I couldn’t stop myself.

I raced forward and placed a soft hand on Tommy’s upper arm, “Tommy, please. Please don’t do this.” My words visibility softened Tommy. Tommy’s arms fell and he lowered the crossbow and looked over to me. I batted my eyelashes innocently as I asked, “Can you please just let him talk to everyone. He could tell everyone what he’s done. His master plan. Plus, he has something else he has to share with you and if you kill him again, you’ll lose it forever. Just would you please let him come down?” Tommy gave me a soft short nod. “Yeah, anything for you Y/N.” I returned Tommy’s smile before turning my head up to the elevator and called, “Dream. It’s okay. Come down.”

It was silent for a moment before the elevator sounded once more and Dream appeared again. Once he was down, he took a few steps off of the elevator and looked around sheepishly. “Are you ready to talk?” I asked gently, causing Dream’s eyes to snap to me. We held a silent conversation, I mentally told him the jig was up. It was time to tell all. The worst they could do was leave. Dream let out a sigh and nodded. “First come here,” Tommy demanded. Having nothing, Dream had to obey. Tommy built an obsidian wall around Dream and finished it off by placing a block in front of him, making it so he couldn’t get out. “Go on, tell them.”

And so he did. Dream spilled everything. Everything about the hall, how he wanted power and he was willing to do anything to get it. He told about how horrible to Tommy, Dream was in exile. Dream told about how he was the one who blew up the community house. He claimed that if something awful happened, it was probably him. Dream even spilled about the book that JSchlatt had given Dream, the one that made him switch sides. Dream told that if he were to lose his last cannon life, Wilbur would be gone forever… Anyone that had lost their lives would be gone forever…

That being said, he left me out completely. He left out that it was our plan. That we were in this together. I silently cursed and thanked him. I wanted us to be together in everything, but I also knew that nothing was going to get accomplished if nobody trusted either of us. I had to remain this perfect picture of innocence. I had to be sweet. I couldn’t be poisonous.

It was silent for a while after he spilled everything. “Team meeting,” Tommy announced, turning around. Everyone was very confused as to what the hell he was talking about. “Everyone, gather round,” he demanded, waving his arms. Everyone piled into a big, tight knit circle, sending one another confused looks. “What do we do with him now. He has to be punished, but we cannot take his last life, but he cannot walk around freely” Tommy explained, looking around at everyone. No one spoke up… I knew what I had to.

I looked to Sam as if I had a sudden idea, “the Prison,” I whispered. A look of recognition flashed over his face as he nodded, “Yeah. It would be perfect, it’s complete and it’s something he made me build. The symbolism… Incredible, getting locked in his own inescapable prison.” Everyone murmured amongst themselves in confusion. Oh, that’s right. No one knew about it. “We’ll explain later. But it’s perfect and we won’t have to worry about him. I’ll escort him there myself,” Sam claimed before turning back to my trapped boyfriend.

“Dream, for your crimes against the server, you’re under arrest. You will be escorted to the inescapable prison you had me build and will be in there until for an undetermined amount of time.” Sam announced boldly, moving to the obsidian. Dream’s eyes widened at his words. We certainly didn’t plan for this. Sam began breaking the obsidian to from him trap and I could only watch.

“Y/N,” Niki whispered, jarring me out of my thoughts. I turned to face the sweet girl and she immediately pulled me into a hug. She was trying to console me, after all, everyone believed that I was with him against my own will. I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her back. “I’m so sorry it took us this long. But you’re free now” She claimed. I mentally laughed at her words. Sure, to them I was free but I honestly had never felt more trapped. Swallowing harshly, I nodded, “It’s okay Niki. I’m okay now. Thank you,” I forced out, trying to sound as nice as possible.

Niki pulled back and gave me a sweet smile, nodding. “No problem sweetheart. And if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out to any of us.” I faked a sweet smile and nodded, “Yeah, will do… Hey, I think I’m going to walk with Sam to escort Dream to prison, just to make sure that 1. He doesn’t try anything and 2. That he actually gets locked up… An ease of mind thing,” I explained to Niki. She immediately nodded, “Yeah, sure thing. How about afterwards you come by the bakery and we can make cookies together.” I nodded and gave her another smile, “Sounds good Nik. I’ll see you there then.”

I quickly walked over to Sam and a now handcuffed Dream. “I’m going to go with you, just to be sure,” I explained quickly, seeing Sam’s confused face. Sam looked me up and down before giving a nod. “Alright, we’re going to head out,” He announced to everyone. Heads turned back to us and they’re eyes followed us as we walked to the nether portal. I gave a small wave as the three of us disappeared in the purple magic.

The walk to the prison was silent. Dream didn’t have much to say considering how we couldn’t really talk about a plan in front of Sam. Sam also didn’t have much to say, there being a slight tension as we walked. All the way there, my thoughts were going wild. I spent the entire time thinking of a way out of this. But I couldn’t come up with one, at least not right now while everything was still so new.

Sam let me enter the prison. In fact, he let me go as far as being in Dream’s cell. “Hey, I know you’re really not supposed to, but I’ll give you all my things and stuff but could I just get a moment alone with Dream?” I asked as sweetly as I could, batting my eyelashes, praying he would say yes. Sam hesitated for a moment before he stuck out his arms. I piled everything from my inventory into his arms, moving so that he could see that I had in fact given him everything before he left the cell with the promise he would be back soon.

As soon as Sam was out of sight and ear shot, I rushed forward and engulfed my boyfriend in a hug. “I’m so sorry,” I muttered into Dream’s shoulder as I clutched him. “It’s not your fault. I should have seen this coming. Who knew Punz would be the one to betray me,” Dream spit in anger, not directed at me. “Doesn’t make me less sorry… What do we do now?” I asked, pulling myself ever so slightly out of his arms. “Lay low for a while,” He commanded, “Everyone will be checking up on you because I just got thrown in jail. Make sure to act as happy as possible, you’re free after all,” He claimed with a dark chuckle. “We’ll figure something out. A prison break of some sorts. It may take a long time. But we’ll do it okay. You and me,” “You and me,” I confirmed.

The rest of our time alone was spent in a tight embrace. Our plan had fallen apart. I wouldn’t be able to visit much due to the fact I was supposed to be acting happy that Dream was in his own prison. Once we could hear Sam’s footsteps, we pulled apart. I pressed a rushed kiss to Dream’s lips before stepping away from him just in time. “Alright Y/N, it’s time to go.” I nodded and moved to stand beside Sam. Sam pressed a button and iron bars came up, locking Dream in a cage. Sam then pressed another button and lava began to flow from the ceiling. Right before he disappeared from view, Dream mouthed an ‘I love you’, me mouthing one back.

I was now metaphorically on my own. Alone in a server where everyone hated my boyfriend and would absolutely not be willing to help me break him out of prison… Wait. There is one person that might not be willing to help, but he might have to… He’s the perfect person to do this and he can’t say no. After all, Technoblade still owes us that favor.

There you go! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, be sure to leave a like!!

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years

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Dream SMP Recap (January 14/2021) - Dawn of an Empire

While the day is at first full of happy bonding moments with Techno and Ranboo, and Tubbo continues work on Snowchester, things take a turn for the sorrowful as Puffy questions her stance in the server’s conflicts and wonders what it truly means to be a knight.

Later, Badboyhalo gathers a Roundtable on the Crimson together to discuss matters concerning the containment of the Egg, and the future of the Badlands.

Now that L’manburg has fallen, it might be time to take a step forward into a new age.

It’s the spark of a new alliance.

The rise...

Of the Eggpire.

---

- Dream whispers to Techno that he’s currently living at his mysterious house far away.

- Techno comes up with a plan to name his dogs after donators.

- Dream also tells Tubbo he’ll kill him soon. (Uncertain if the things he said are jokes or serious)

- Ranboo gives Techno the axe that he made to replace the Axe of Peace.

- Ranboo tells Techno that he’s planning on going off to find another Woodland Mansion

- Techno’s dogs kill Edward. Rest in Peace.

- Tubbo goes to collect ice from the ice biome for Snowchester

- Ranboo shows Techno the stronghold.

- They then set off through the Nether on another roadtrip. Apparently, Techno still has some plans that may involve some violence in the future.

- They reach the Woodland Mansion and loot it.

- They then commit some mild arson, then head back.

- Techno says goodbye. Ranboo now has three more Totems -- three extra lives!

- Puffy looks out at the L’manburg Crater, saddened by all the loss and destruction. She’s unsure of where her loyalties lie.

She considered Techno and Dream her friends -- and her duckling! But can she really support someone who did this?

“Right now, this castle is a hollow nothing...it’s just a title...There’s no consequence, ever. It just happens, and people just get sad, and they have to suffer their feelings and move on...We need safety, we need security, and happiness. We can’t live in fear.”

“To Dream, my duckling...I might be a villain. I don’t wanna be, but it’s what needs to happen. I might have to sacrifice...”

She questions what her duty is as a knight of the SMP, and starts to write her statements in a book.

“Sometimes being a hero to others comes at the consequence of being a villain to those who you hold closest.”

- She goes to destroy the cottage she made for Dream.

“I did this ‘cause he didn’t have a home...and everybody, no matter how cold, or violent, or angry, or maybe even unforgiving they may be... Everyone deserves a home, a place they can go to at night to feel comfortable and safe.”

- She burns it down. A lot of the non-flammable blocks remain, though.

- Puffy starts listening to “TNT” by CaptainSparklez and TryHardNinja as she explodes the rest of the house with TNT.

- In the explosion, though, she exposes Dream’s old house as well (as it was directly below the cottage) and blows some of it up by accident, instantly regretting it.

She’s very surprised that she built a whole new home for Dream right on top of his old base without even knowing it was there.

- She decides it was a happy accident, and now Dream is fully homeless. She still puts everything back in the chests, though, to clean up.

- She finds in one of the old chests an abandoned copy of “Blocks” and decides to keep it. It isn’t Tommy’s canon disc, but she decides to give it meaning anyway.

“This disc might not have started canon...but it’s canon now...Red, because of all the bloodshed and wars that have been waged over them.”

- She goes back to the crater as it starts to rain and thunder, and questions whether she should keep the disc or burn it. Or perhaps give it to Tommy?

- Puffy decides that she has sympathy for Tommy. Sure, Tommy’s made mistakes, but he’s young and has been exiled twice now! He’s already paid for the things he’s done enough. Does he really deserve all of this? And poor Tubbo as well, being put in such a tough position, leading a country.

- She decides that the Glitch Cube can be her panic room for the time being.

- She goes to the Castle, thinking about how useless it is. It’s just a symbol with no real meaning behind it. Not by the fault of Eret, but because Dream calls all the shots. Eret is the king, but has zero control.

- Puffy then looks at the ruins of the Community House. Who’s to say it wasn’t Dream who did it? How do they know it was really Tommy?

- She thinks that when somebody’s made mistakes, you have to be there for them and help them grow instead of just exiling them and leaving them alone to rot. Tommy’s suffered enough consequences for his actions. He doesn’t need to be blamed anymore.

- She wonders why Techno can spawn thirty withers and not be exiled, but all Tommy does is grief George’s house a little and he gets sent miles away? There’s a double standard.

She believes in justice, not cruelty. And exile is cruelty.

- Skeppy comes online and she gets into the Skeppy Maid skin, as one does.

- Puffy goes to set up a beacon in her base. She creates it using one of the stars she got from the Doomsday withers.

- Puffy then gets a pet spider named Peter Parkour.

- Bad comes online and Puffy shows him her Catboy Skeppy outfit.

- Puffy also gets a slime pet and names it Jream.

- Later, Bad comes online to gather a roundtable about the Egg. Punz, Puffy and Ant come online to join in. As Bad refers to them, the “Egg People.”

- Bad begins the meeting by saying that the Egg has become a problem. What is there to be done?

He also mentions the carnage that took place in L’manburg. They quarantined the Egg and kept it from spreading its Vines across the server.

Bad proposes that instead of keeping the Egg contained...they break the containment and allow it to spread again.

- Ant insists that Bad must be corrupted somehow, while Bad claims that Skeppy has been cleansed of the Egg’s influence and that whole situation is just a matter of getting him back to normal.

- Bad seems convinced that L’manburg being gone has something to do with them keeping the Egg contained.

- Bad likes that L’manburg is gone, but it’s problematic that there’s so much chaos coming from Dream and other members of the SMP. He wanted L’manburg to remain a source of conflict, and now the Badlands lacks a consistent source of chaos for the server since Dream blew it up.

And he thinks that the Egg is just the right amount of chaos that is needed.

- Punz and Puffy, the Dream SMP faction members, both think Bad has lost it. What about peace? Who knows what the Egg could do?

- Bad points out that the Egg isn’t in the Badlands. It’s in the heart of the Dream SMP.

If they let the Vines spread, it would give the Badlands an opportunity to take control with the one other large remaining faction weakened.

- Puffy loves the Vines, but she wants the peace to remain. Bad says that peace is never going to happen with the Egg’s power being concentrated in an isolated chamber. The potency of its influence will only grow.

- Bad suggests they look at the Egg to prove a point.

- He asks the Dream SMP members what they want, since he’s already made a case for the Badlands.

Punz says that he’s “factionless...”

- The entire Egg Room is completely covered, and new growths seem to have appeared on the Egg. Its power is so concentrated that even Punz, who had before always had immunity to its effects, says that he’s starting to feel something.

- “Little Red,” the pet Vine that Ponk has in his Casino, has “flowered” and...turned green?

Ponk apparently poured holy Twitch Prime water on it.

- They go back to the Roundtable and Bad asks if Puffy and Punz want to join the Badlands.

He says that he has a long-term plan, and that if Punz and Puffy join them in their forces? They could easily take over all of the Badlands territory.

He proposes they let the Egg go and wipe out the entire portion of the Dream SMP while the Badlands searches for a counter to it. They come in after the chaos, clear the Egg with their methods, being the “saviors,” and

TAKE OVER THE ENTIRETY OF THE DREAM SMP TERRITORY, FORMING THE BADLANDS EMPIRE.

- Puffy says that she thinks Bad is turning into a tyrant. Bad says that he wants the Badlands to be a collective, all with equal say in the government instead of one ruler controlling everything. All the factions with one ruler have faced issues.

- Punz says that he’s willing to work towards chaos. He supports the idea that Bad has. Bad suggests that if Punz and Puffy agree, the Badlands can incorporate Punz’s territory and Puffy’s temple. Punz and Puffy are not a part of the Badlands faction, just part of the incorporated territories of the Empire.

- Bad wants an Empire name.

---

He declares that the Formation between the Badlands, Punz and Puffy shall henceforth be known as:

THE EGGPIRE

“Let’s let chaos reign over the Dream SMP.”

---

- They go down to the Egg Room to destroy the barriers keeping it in.

“Eggcellent.”

As they destroy it, Bad says he’s grown fond of the way the Vines look. Wouldn’t it look nice if these spread all over the server?

He wonders if Sam would be in agreement with this.

Puffy is still having a few doubts, but Bad insists that all this current chaos will be in the name of achieving eventual peace once all other faction conflicts have been wiped away.

- What’s the best place to plant the seed of the Vines?

Badboyhalo suggests the Crater.

The Ruins of L’manburg.

- Puffy thinks they all should have protected L’manburg. Punz hesitates...he says he “tried his best to help,” but that they should move on and upgrade the Crater with a little floral decoration.

- They head to the Crater and begin planting seeds of the Crimson all around the L’manburg Flag at the bedrock.

- Badboyhalo believes that, once they take complete control...

It will be the ultimate utopia.

- All they need to do now is convince Sam to go along with the idea. Punz suggests that they get him to go down into the Egg Room without a Prime Suit on.

- The egg puns are getting out of hand. This is an issue.

- Lastly, they gather together, the members of the new Eggpire, in the Church of Prime.

- Puffy still feels that she’s the only voice of reason, and wonders whether she’ll have to warn the others about the Badlands’ plan.

- Once he’s stepped away from the other members, Bad reveals that underneath his disguise, his red has been drained away to gray and white just like the Egg did to his statue. He doesn’t want the others to know yet, but thinks Antfrost was close to catching on.

- Meanwhile, Puffy continues to write in the Captain’s Log -- her journal from earlier. She is very concerned about these new developments.

---

Upcoming Events:

- Futuristic Tales From the SMP Episode

- Tommy’s plan to kill Dream

- The eventual reveal of Pandora’s Vault

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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meteor752 · 3 years

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Dsmp Hogwarts AU, except it’s all the characters and I go into why they are what they are, please reblog this took a long ass time

Man, what a title Huh? Anyways, this will obviously go over the characters and not the content creators, because in some cases those are vastly different

Also, before we start, I will go over an important thing that I will mention probably a few times, and that is the difference between Hufflepuff Loyalty and Slytherin Loyalty.

Both of these houses value loyalty, but in very different ways. Take for example that you’re a spy who has their best friend as their partner, and you’re out on some super important mission. Let’s also say that your partner got shot and is close to death, and the only way to save them would be to abandon the mission entirely.

A Hufflepuff would try to complete the mission because it would be the best for all, while the Slytherin would abandon the mission despite the fact that it could result in countless deaths, just to save their friend.

See it as Selfish Loyalty vs Selfless loyalty. Both are great things to have, but are still different.

Anyways, on with the show

Tomathy Danger Kraken Careful Innit

I have seen people try to argue that this boy is a Hufflepuff because of his loyalty and such, but gosh darnit everyone this child is a god damn Gryffindor. I mean, one of his main character traits is that he’s brash and too brave for his own good. The reason he got fucking exiled is because he burned down George’s house without thinking of the consequences, and then just screamed at Dream without thinking of the consequences. The same goes for Ghostbur’s “death”, it was because he had no real plan except Stab Dream with an axe. So yeah, Gryffindor

Wilbur Soot

Slytherin, 100%. This man has created one and a half nation, one entirely out of spite, he was both a general and a president, he’s a smart lil fella, and he managed to hold his own against the god of the server. I don’t even thing you guys wanna argue with me here

Tuberculosis Underscore

This one is tricky, because it’s really between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw for me. Like, he does possess the Hufflepuff loyalty™ plus he is very kind, but he’s also one of the more logical and observant characters we have in this server (The bar is very low let me tell ya). But I think I will have to go with Ravenclaw, just because like, the boy invented nukes. He built fucking nukes. So yeah, a very chaotic Ravenclaw that will spout bee facts at you, be prepared

Technoblade

My man is a Ravenclaw, no doubt about it. I mean, he started talking about an old greek myth in the middle of a war? Just Ravenclaw things amiright?

Philza Minecraft

I will have to go with Slytherin on this one, simply because of the large amount of Slytherin Loyalty, but also because of his cunningness and resourcefulness, but for real this was very tricky, simply because I don’t like to think about c!Phil too much because as some of you may know, I kinda hate him (Not the cc though, obvs, he’s awesome)

Ranboo My Beloved

Hufflepuff. This boy’s ideology is literally “Choose people, not sides”, he’s an honest and compassionate boy who works hard, and has a very open mind. He’s literally the by the book Hufflepuff

Eret

Honestly, Slytherin. I mean, they are ambitious as fuck, both shown by them betraying L’Manburg for the throne, but also by working hard towards their redemption arc. They are also a good leader of the smp, and in general a great role model to have

Nikki Nihachu

This one is actually difficult, simply because Nikki has gone through quite the character arc the past couple of months. She started out kind, sweet and loyal, a classic Hufflepuff. Then she joined the syndicate and straight up tried to kill a child, which is less Hufflepuff but who am I to judge. But in her core, as seen through her discussion with Jack about Tommy’s revival, she is still a good person that works hard for what she believes in, wants the best for everyone (Despite sometimes working in her best self interest) remains kind through it all. So yeah, Nikki is a Hufflepuff, just a bit of a sadistic one. But we can’t all be perfect ya know?

Fun Jonathan Michael Vincent Georgina James Sus Dy Soot

Ah, my favorite character, and also one of the best examples of a Ravenclaw. And I ain’t saying that just cuz I’m a Ravenclaw, Fundy is one of the most Ravenclaw characters out there. He’s creative, Clever, Spontaneous, Witty, Curious, Sharp, and a real trickster. The idea of Ravenclaws being the goody two shoes kids that always does their school work is just false, we never do our Homework and instead sit and read about things we find interesting, and Fundy is a good example of that. Also he was quite the eager learner during the Dreamon Hunters arc, which again is a good example of a Ravenclaw. So if Ranboo is the by the book Hufflepuff, then Fundy is the by the book Ravenclaw.

Dreamwastaken

I’m pretty sure it’s confirmed that Dream is actually a Slytherin, and I ain’t arguing with that. This boy is cunning, sly, a leader, traditional, Self-Preserving, and a master with words. There is not much more to say here, apart from the fact that Slytherins main colour is literally green, so it all checks out, this boy is a snake.

George Lore

Mr not found over here really is hard to pinpoint down, simply because his main character trait is his apathy, which isn’t really a trait for any of the houses. I was discussing this one with my girlfriend, and both of us were pretty clueless of what to do with him. I was thinking if Hufflepuff since they take the ones that don’t fit anywhere else, but then I was reminded of the most recent Dream XD stream, which showed us one thing, and that is that George is clever, observant, and Sharp Minded, all the traits of a Ravenclaw. Sure, he could also be Slytherin as he was both cunning and sly as well, but I think Ravenclaw fits him more personally.

Sappitus Nappitus Boyhalo

Finally we have another Gryffindor, there’s been a serious lack of them on the list. My man is a fighter, he’s bold, he’s brave, he’s passionate, he’s confident, and he doesn’t really think that much of the consequences of his actions (Cough the pet war cough), so yeah this boy a lion.

Punz

Ah, Punzie, the mercenary themself. Tbh, I know very little about them because Punz don’t get involved that much in lore unless they are hired for something. I mean, they were in the eggpire, but even then they were barely involved, which is sad cuz I like Punz. But what we have seen of Punz is that they are someone who does not care about you or what you want, as long as you pay them. They are power hungry and self preserving, which means that I have to put them in Slytherin.

Jack Thunder1408 TV Manifold

The boy who I can’t help but be sympathetic towards. Jack is also a hard character to pin point because of the reason that he’s gone through quite the development. Jackie boy is a very broken character that has literally been through hell, so it’s hard to properly sort him. He’s quite confident and clever, yet cunning and resourceful, so for me it’s either Slytherin or Gryffindor. But I do lean towards Gryffindor more, partly because of his stubbornness and gullibility, and part because of all the fire imagery that’s associated with him. I mean, the cc described him as burning inside, he’s been through the scape of fire and death, and he burnt his nation to the ground. In case you didn’t know, Fire is the element of Gryffindor, so yeah, another red and gold boy.

JSchlatt

Schlatt is as both charming, charismatic and calm in the early days, using subtle manipulation tactics to get his way and achieve ultimate power. He’s ambitious, narcissistic, cunning, and tyrannical, while still hiding it all behind a facade of smiles and waves. He could also be both cruel and irresponsible at times, aka the time he had an underage child drink during an event, but ya know, mistakes. So all in all, I think it’s pretty clear that he’s a Snakey boy.

QuackityHQ

As much as I love CC!Quackity, I also fucking hate him because of the many, many different directions he’s taken this character which makes it possible for him to fit in literally any of the houses. The duckie is both Chaotic and lawful, he’s both friendly and hostile, he’s a smart cookie and a fucking dumbass, so like bruh. But, I’m gonna have to go with how he is now, which is manipulative, power hungry, cruel, and strong willed. Aka, another Slytherin.

Karl Jacobs

Finally, a character that is not broken down to the point of barely making out a readable personality. Karl is a kind and funny person, who is very open to new people considering how often he gives tours to visitors and new people, and he is quite literally loosing himself traveling through time in an attempt to help people. Hufflepuff

Awesamdude

This one I know will be controversial, but I’m saying Hufflepuff on him. Sam is one of the best cases of the Hufflepuff loyalty, literally letting both Tommy and Ghostbur be stuck and ultimately die in the prison just so he wouldn’t risk Dream breaking out. Before that point he was very kind and gentle towards Tommy, literally building a robot to keep him safe and take care of him. Sam nook is a reflection of Sam’s feelings towards Tommy, and they are kind and gentle.

Dropsbyponk

Ughhhh, another tough one. Ponk is a chaotic being who is mostly neutral in conflicts, but is shown to be very open about their feelings towards those they care about, like Sam or Foolish. They seem to be have strong feelings in what they believe in, and can be a bit brash sometimes, not really caring about the consequences of their actions, which is what makes me say Gryffindor for them.

Badboyhalo

Our favorite muffin demon. I assume, I don’t know what life you live. Anyways, Bad is like the stereotypical Hufflepuff. The kindhearted, well meaning, sweet, responsible Hufflepuff. The Hufflepuff that’s like in all of those incorrect quotes blogs and “Slytherin and Hufflepuff friendships uwu” posts. But for real, Bad is very Hufflepuff. He does however have Slytherin Loyalty, considering he pretty much sacrificed the entire server for Skeppy, but if you would try to convince me that Bad is a Slytherin I will just laugh at you

Skeppy

It was at this point I realized what I’ve gotten myself into with this post, which you know, not fun. Skeppy is both cocky and filled with energy, with a real ambition to cause chaos. He’s also shown to be willing to sacrifice himself for the person he loves, Bad, when he gave himself up to the egg. I’ve seen some people say Slytherin, but I’m kinda getting Gryffindor from the lad, so yeah, another lion.

Antfrost

Frosty here is a kind hearted person that for the most part seem to be along for the ride. He reminds me a bit of a parent of toddlers, with his patience and serenity towards the more chaotic people on the server, so of course my natural instinct is Hufflepuff. Buuuuut, then there’s again the issue with the egg and the Slytherin loyalty, this time towards his boyfriend Velvet who he was willing to join a cult for (relationship goals) but again, you can’t really say Ant is a Slytherin considering how wrecked he was about what he did while in the eggpire when he was released from it’s grasp. So yeah, Puffle boy

Captain Puffy

Oh captain my captain, you are such a Gryffindor. And some of you may disagree on that, stating that she’s a Hufflepuff or something (I did research before this to check what other people think, I know) but naaah, she a lion. Puffy is very motherly and protective towards other people on the server, especially the minors, but in the way that a Bear is protective towards its cub, which is gentle towards them but fierce towards others. Puffy also falls natural in the role of a leader as seen with Pro-Omelette, but that is kinda expected since she’s a past Pirate Captain. But she wasn’t the leader she was supposed to be, as she waited quite a while to act against the eggpire out of fear of hurting her friends, which lead to quite the damage towards the rest of the server. She’s also been shown to act on impulse, killing Antfrost and taking one of his lives after he killed her son. Idk if this is a good explanation of why I believe Puffy to be a Gryffindor, it sounds more like I’m claiming her to be a Slytherin or Hufflepuff, but she is a Gryffindor I promise!

Foolish Gamers

Foolish is a kind and friendly being, if not a bit naive and easily distracted. He’s also not the brightest person, in fact I’d go as far as to call the guy a Himbo, and he can be a bit skittish sometimes if he’s stressed or haven’t taken a break in a while. But despite it all, the guy is someone who’s creative and hard working, with a brilliant mind for his building. The man is an artist who can get grumpy if you suppress his creative aura, and put his heart and soul into his works. He also has a habit of getting wrapped up in big projects, and ignoring sleep or personal care until he’s finished them. This all leads me to say that Mr Gamers is a Ravenclaw, just not the smartest one. But hey, we can’t all be geniuses, can we.

Slimecicle

Slime is very naive and very trusting towards people around him, taking every word they say as a fact. He can also be a bit dark and ominous at times, but quickly shakes it off as nothing important. This all makes him quite childish, which is very hard to sort, so I’m gonna say Hufflepuff for his friendliness and move on.

Purpled Bedwars

I actually started loving this guy the minute I saw him, purely because Purple is my favorite colour, like my man has taste. Purpled, like Punz, is a guy who helps whoever pays him the most. He’s not interested in most things on the server, too busy looking out for number one (And Dogchamp of course). He’s very self reliant and resourceful, but still quite passive. He may not be the most ambitious guy, but Purpled is definitely a Slytherin (It also brings me and my girlfriend Serotonin knowing that the mercenary siblings are both in the same house, we love those two)

Hannahxxrose

I don’t watch Hannah that much, but god I love her voice, it makes my lesbian little heart happy. Hannah is a friendly person who is very naive about the conflicts on the server, thinking it all can can be solved by placing a rose (God I wish). She’s a good decorator and a good hearted person, who unfortunately fell victim to the egg’s influence. I’m going with Hufflepuff on her, but I’m honestly not entirely sure as I don’t know that much about her.

HBomb94

H is a very well meaning person that only really wants people to be friendly towards each other. He had a strict moral code and he keeps to it, as shown where Fundy tried to get his help with blowing shit up. He’s very helpful to those who ask and is willing to back up his friends when it’s needed, which makes me say that the friendly totally not dirty cat maid is a Hufflepuff.

Connoreatspants

I just want you all to know that I’m writing this before Connor’s lore stream that surely will just go against everything I say because fate hates me, just so ya know. Connor is not a person that does stuff on the server with lore and he for the most part keeps to himself, so this is a bit hard. Connor also has this thing where he likes to say things just to confuse him, and also making a bit of cursed lore, but he’s still a fairly humble person. He does lie and steal a bit, and has this habit of moving into other people’s houses, but I digress. I’m actually leaning towards Ravenclaw on him, for some reason, so that’s what I’m going with until I have more of an established character.

ItsAlyssa

I know she has left the server and stuff, but she was one of the original members so it would be a crime not to include her. Alyssa is a bit chaotic, often going on killing sprees, or burning down the trees outside of L’Manburg. So I’m placing Alyssa in Gryffindor, but to be honest I don’t really know at this point.

Callahan

How do you sort a person who does not speak, stream, or show like anything of his personality? The answer is, you don’t. Hufflepuff is the house of those who don’t fit in anywhere else, and that’s where I’m placing him.

Vikkstar123

Please log onto the server I’m begging you, I didn’t watch you as a kid and honestly know nothing about you. From what I’ve seen of Vik he’s a very humble person that tries to stay out of it all, instead forming a land together with his bro Lazar. Honestly my instincts say Ravenclaw and I trust my instincts, so I’m putting him in Ravenclaw

Lazarbeam

Lazar was actually a big part of the exile arc which I realized after already have written his, so now I gotta rewrite it. Lazar is fairly ambitious on the server, and has the goal to obtain the most powerful objects on the server just to rival the other strong members of the smp. He’s especially against Tommy, and aims to do a lot to be the opposite of him, aka well respected and not a war criminal that got exiled (Totally fair goal). Despite that, he was able to show some empathy to the British child, even going as far as to give him a disk during his exile. This all makes me say Slytherin on him.

Michaelmcchill

Newest boy. Michael is a very apathetic person, showing little to no empathy towards most people’s trauma on the server. The person he does feel empathy for however is Dream, who of course did nothing wrong and is locked up in the prison which is just horrible oh no. Michael just truly does not care about what you’ve been through (as of now) which is why I’m gonna say Slytherin, because he does have Slytherin loyalty towards Mr Was Taken.

TL;DR

Tommy-Lion

Wilbur-Snake

Tubbo-Eagle

Techno-Eagle

Philza-Snake

Ranboo-Badger

Eret-Snake

Nikki-Badger

Fundy-Eagle

Dream-Snake

George-Eagle

Sapnap-Lion

Punz-Snake

Jack-Lion

Schlatt-Snake

Quackity-Snake

Karl-Badger

Sam-Badger

Ponk-Lion

Bad-Badger

Skeppy-Lion

Antfrost-Badger

Puffy-Lion

Foolish-Eagle

Slime-Badger

Purpled-Snake

Hannah-Badger

HBomb-Badger

Connor-Eagle

Alyssa-Lion

Callahan-Badger

Vik-Eagle

Lazar-Snake

Michael-Snake

So all together we have Seven lions, Ten Snakes, Seven Eagles and Ten Badgers. I think that’s fair tbh

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ghost-like-pale · 3 years

Text

wrapped arms around death

info: after your death wilbur was heartbroken. while looking through your home he finds himself thinking back on the day he held you in his arms. 》 they/them 》 canon + romantic》 1.1k words

warnings: physical fighting, explicit descriptions of wounds/blood, death, crying, angst

a/n: i saw the prompt and had this idea, it's not about a trauma of mine but i still hope you like it.

this piece is an entry for @yamturds' 1k event. i chose the prompt "this world isn't meant for us" - congrats on 1k ♡

——♤——

the air stung his lungs as he breathed shakily. the dark sky of the night was twinkling with stars, signaling him fake hope that you were watching. each step he took in the home's direction laughed at him, taunted him for his pathetic state. it was his fault. it was your blood on his hands.

the war was meant to hurt dream, not his people. not you. you were the only person that stayed with him through the very end - the only one he wanted to be with. he betrayed you. he murdered you. he ripped your last life out of your hands and crushed it under his leather boot.

he stepped onto the gravel path you built with a heavy heart, the memories of sitting on the porch and talking about life flooded back. with every foot forward despair set in more. every small pebble he stepped on screamed at him until he arrived at the door. the spruce wood stared daggers at the brit as he pushed it to let himself into the now cold home.

using his flint and steel wilbur lit the fireplace. the flames licked the wood as he found a comfortable spot at the dinner table. with a sigh and a hand in his hair he unwillingly starts digging through his memories.

—

you swing your sword skillfully against sapnap's shield, the wood splintering and flying off the object. you've been fighting for what felt like hours in this cold forest. you both ran out of healing potions a while ago, but you were still fighting. neither of you planned on losing.

sapnap swings his axe towards your head from the right. you dodge it barely, the blade swinging right past your face and a lock of hair being cut by the razor-sharp weapon. while you were leaning back you grab you shield tightly and hit him with it. you strike him right in the stomach, sapnap stumbling back, hitting a tree and wrapping an arm around his body. you wipe your forehead with your glove and stand up properly.

"tired already?"

"shut it! i'll kill you!"

"then get on with it, i'm just dying to see what you can do!"

"oh, you will."

you laugh at sapnap's anger, riling him up even more. before you can react he throws an ender pearl and lands it right behind you, disappearing in a blink.

"over here, (y/n)!"

he lifts his axe again, this time with more force as he swings down and aims for your head. you turn around and only barely manage to block it with your shield. without slowing down he attacks your leg, this time burying the blade deep into your flesh. your scream in pain as you lose your balance and fall onto the dirt.

"tired already?"

sapnap's smug grin widens as you try to form a sentence. the feeling of blood spilling out of your body and dripping onto the floor made you feel sick.

"i told you i'd kill you, didn't i?"

without any time to protest he switches to his sword. he plunged his weapon into your abdomen and twists it. you scream again, this time until your voice is hoarse. your airpipe closes up and all the noise you try to make was caught in your throat.

"shit-"

hastily sapnap pulls out his sword and runs deeper into the forest, like he's afraid of something. before long you hear footsteps approach.

"(Y/N)!"

you feel a hand snake under your head while the other hovers over your bleeding body. you notice the sound of pairs of feet hitting the floor and going after the man who gave you these wounds.

"(y/n), what happened?!"

the panicking voice belonged to wilbur, your president, commander and husband in the war. he's always been very protective over you, always keeping you closest to him. he didn't even want you to fight in this war, you only being here because you kept begging him until you were allowed, promising him you'd be strong.

"i'm so sorry, will."

you breath out. his eyes go big and scrambles to find a potion.

"no, no, no. you're not dying on me. you're going to live, you have to. you have to, (y/n)."

he finally finds a healing potion and carefully puts your head down on the floor. he pops the cork off and places your body onto his lap.

"you need to drink this, (y/n). you're going to live, i promise."

you were losing your strength and hope, feeling yourself slowly decaying. you are not going to live. while your body loses its power wilbur slowly pours the sweet potion in your mouth.

"you have to swallow. you can do it."

the fluid pools in your mouth, not having the strength to do anything more. you turn your head to the side, the potion spilling onto his lap and the ground. he gasps and places one of his hands on your cheek to tenderly push it up right again.

"(y/n), please."

you chuckle, fully accepting your fate. with the strength you still had you lay your hand on his, still resting on your face.

"i'm sorry, will. i wasn't strong enough."

"(y/n), don't say that. you can survive!"

"wilbur, please."

wilbur drops the potion, the flask tipping over and making the contents flood out the bottle.

"why?"

"i wish i had an answer."

tears drop onto your face, the sound of wilbur's cries filling the cold air.

"you can't leave me, (y/n). you can't! what about our nation? our friends?"

"you'll have to look after it on your own."

"...i can't. not alone."

you smile at him kindly, almost like the excruciating pain was never there. with a shaky hand you touch his cheek, stroking his wet features with your thumb.

"i believe in you. i know you can do it."

he leans into your touch, unsure what to say.

"what if i can't?"

your eyelids are heavy, the welcoming feeling of an eternal sleep welcomes you as your world is engulfed in a black sea.

"i love you, will."

your hands became limp. your back slumped and your neck dropped your head on wilbur's lap. he bends down, placing his forehead on yours. the tears flooded until all he could see was a blur of the world around him.

"i'm sorry, (y/n)."

—

wilbur felt a tear roll over his cheeks and fall onto his hand. he didn't know how long he's been crying, but he wasn't going to make it last. he tries to wipe away the tears but his attempts fall flat. his sobs get louder by the second as he screams out.

he cries your name over and over with a delusion that chanting it will make you listen. all he wants is forgiveness, to apologize.

after hours of sobbing his tears dry. his body gave up on him. he laid there, his head sideways on the wooden table and arms sprawled out. your lifeless body enters his mind, the only thing his body can produce is an exhausted grunt.

"this world just wasn't meant for us, huh?"

——♤——

thank you for reading. i've never written angst like this so it's not very good, sorry.

taglist;

@esylwen , @dumbasscat890 , @raw_eggs13 , @mikewizkalifa

#yams' 1k event #dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #dream smp angst #mcyt angst #wilbur soot angst #dream smp fanfiction #mcyt fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfiction

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zeta-in-de-walls · 3 years

Text

Hey guys, do you know how easy it is to interpret Tommy’s character in an angsty way? Just to be clear, this is from Tommy’s perspective.

I think presently in the story Tommy’s character tries to act like he’s alright, but underneath his tough exterior, he’s developed a crippling lack of self-worth. We saw how his character became suicidal during the exile arc and he’s not fully recovered. He hides his issues better now, but they’re still there.

Tommy’s character has always been the sort who demands attention. He wants to be acknowledged, to be respected, to be wanted. And he’s always been very clingy about his closest friend, Tubbo. Tommy’s always been fighting for approval (while watching those around him receive it so easily.) Tommy gives love and affection quite easily - that’s why he always gets so strongly attached to everything - but he has a hard time receiving it.

Back around the L’Manburg war, he had a thirst to prove himself which Wilbur recognised it, pushing him to be better and fulfil his potential. At first, he told Tommy to work harder, that the others were contributing more and he wasn’t sure if Tommy was really cut out for revolution. Tommy took this as a challenge and took Wilbur’s ideals to heart. And Tommy did indeed prove himself - though initially he failed by fighting as he lost the duel, he gave up something he loved - his music discs - and saved the day and made Wilbur proud of him. And Wilbur’s approval meant the world to him!

So Tommy was happy as Wilbur’s right hand man, doing his best to be a good Vice President for him; he was feeling a sense of belonging as a citizen of L’Manburg. It was a nation he’d helped build, and that he’d given up a lot for. So he tried to be like Wilbur and be a good responsible second-in-command.

But then things went wrong. He and Wilbur got banished together. They’d failed L’Manburg.

Still Tommy was by Wilbur’s side. They could fix things. But... it wasn’t working. Tommy was still just himself and still had good intentions... however, no longer was Wilbur so proud of him: “You’re proving yourself to be too much of a loose cannon. There is a reason why you are not the president and never will be!”

Tommy was extremely hurt by this. Here’s some of his rambling about it. His tone is light but the words are not. “That was uncalled for. I thought I was getting all tough and then he dropped that bomb on me and I go ‘oh I’m just nothing, I’m just nothing. I’ll just, I’ll just continue. He’s right, he’s right. I’m not good enough, I’m just not good enough. Maybe I’m not that tough.”

Tommy doesn’t let that get him down for long though and becomes more attentive, trying to do better for Wilbur and support him even as he spirals. They still cared about each other and Tommy tries to be there and wants Wilbur to trust in him even if they disagree. Things are nearly okay as he struggles to get through to WIlbur.

Then Wilbur and Technoblade betray him and blow up L’Manburg, and Wilbur dies. Tommy doesn’t even really know how to process any of this. He’s quick to move on and tries to rally the others and affirm Tubbo’s presidency and that all was not so lost. If they had each other then they still had L’Manburg. He’d failed and lost Wilbur but he was not alone.

So, Tommy no longer had Wilbur - the person who inspired him, tried to make him be the best version of himself. He goes back to being himself. He still cared about others, he hadn’t forgotten L’Manburg but he wanted to take a step back and just be himself, focusing on his own personal goals. He’s already given a lot and lost a lot.

And here’s where Tommy’s self-worth issues really begin as his actions in robbing George’s house are met with serious punishment. It’s unfair - he’s being held to a different standard and he is aware that Dream is trying to provoke him- but it still hurts.

Tommy - he’d helped build L’Manburg, fought for it more than once, given up his discs for it and had been secure in the knowledge that he belonged there, he had his friends’ respect for all he’d done. But he was wrong. In one single incident, he’s called ‘the biggest liability they had,’ he’s seen as a problem they have to deal with.

He doesn’t want to be a problem, he hadn’t intended to cause that level of harm. Nothing he’d done warranted that manner of response from Dream - but of course Dream wasn’t looking to play fair, he wanted Tommy to suffer. It seemed like everyone was buying into the narrative - that they ought to appease Dream even if it meant giving up Tommy.

Tommy of course wanted to fight because this was wrong and unjust but everyone seemed happy to let Tommy be punished. He was the problem for getting angry and making things more difficult for them. Tommy hated this - he absolutely didn’t want L’Manburg to suffer for his actions - he’d even tried to explain how he had wanted to distance himself from L’Manburg thinking it was fine now that Tubbo was in charge.

And of course, it wasn’t just the nation - it was his best friend. Tubbo calling him a liability, Tubbo considering exiling him. Tubbo, whom he’d trusted above all others. What good was he if even his best friend found him too much trouble? Did they care about him?

The reason he was getting exiled was because he was supposedly the one who caused all the conflict and wars. That without him around, the server could finally have peace. Tommy’s selfishness was the problem. Tommy, who after all the conflict and trouble really did want to have a more peaceful life - once he’d been hungrier for war, but he’d changed and now really wanted peace. His greatest desire was to live in his home with his best friend and listen to music discs while watching the sunset. But that was too much, that was too selfish.

So when Tommy got exiled, the loneliness hit him hard. Did anyone really care about him? Did they like him for who he was? Did they want to spend time with him, give him the affection he so desperately craved? In exile, Tommy was entirely reliant on others coming to him rather than being able to go and talk to them. All the things he did during his exile were about getting others to come and visit him - he made bridges through the nether, made his island prettier, arranged a party, built a guest tent - anything to get people to come over - and stay.

But Dream slowly convinces him that no one cares but him. He tells him how L’Manburg looks nicer now that Tommy’s in exile, how it doesn’t take that long to travel over, that everyone decided not to come to Tommy’s party. And Tommy also becomes more cynical, concluding that they pity him enough to visit but they don’t truly care. After his failed party, he remarks that no one cares about him because he has no power anymore, suggesting that people only ever cared when he was part of L’Manburg and had a position - and without it, he’s nothing.

And Tommy’s so desperate for any positive attention that he ends up clinging to Dream, even though he is still vaguely aware that Dream’s his enemy and was responsible for many of his problems. Tommy just doesn’t care, as long as Dream is there for him. He wants to believe its real, even though deep down he’s always known it’s false.

He runs away from Logsteadshire, holding onto the knowledge that Dream didn’t really care and had just been trying to control. But the damage is still there. Tommy tries to be himself again, tries to act normal and ignore his problems. He quickly grows attached to Technoblade for being there and even supporting him against Dream. Technoblade was kind to him, even as Tommy was increasingly aware that he wasn’t really useful to him, Techno cared but didn’t really respect him for being just himself. And Tommy tried to be better again, this time being more aggressive, being more destructive as he helped terrorise L’Manburg.

And then Tommy realised he didn’t even respect himself anymore. “I’m worse than everyone I didn’t want to be!” “I know what I’ve done and I hate me for it.” For so long, Tommy had been clinging to the fact that he was still a good person deserving of the love and affection he so desperately craved. The trouble was in convincing anyone to pay attention to him. But when he found himself fighting Tubbo, he realised that he was wrong, maybe he’d been the one at fault all along and he’d been just blaming everyone else, like the selfish person he was.

So he tried to change, this time he was changing for himself, accepting himself as the one at fault in all his relationships. He apologised and got his priorities in order. And felt better about it, resisting Techno when he asked for his axe back, insisting that yes he was worthy. In admitting fault he’s able to repair his relationship with Tubbo, and for a brief time he’s able to feel like he belongs once more.

But no good deed goes unpunished. No sooner does he give up a disc for Tubbo than Dream says everything he’d done was for the disc and now he was going to destroy L’Manburg - the thing they’d been wanting to preserve. And he’s ruined his relationship with Techno, who agrees to help Dream destroy it.

Tommy gives everything for L’Manburg. And almost no one shows up to help fight. Dream practically says he does this all to hurt Tommy, because its fun. He destroys the things Tommy cares about purely because Tommy cares about them.

Then Dream almost kills Tubbo in order to hurt Tommy. Dream tells him his masterplan is to use Tommy’s love of things, the way he gets attached to things and causes others to get attached to control everyone. The way he desperately clings to people and things is being used against not just him but potentially everyone. Punished once more for caring. And Tubbo’s the one to suffer.

(Tubbo doesn’t blame him though. Tubbo cares. “What am I without you?” “Yourself.”)

All hope is not lost though - the rest of the server do come for him, they come to save him and maybe they do care? Dream was the problem - Dream’s the one who ensured no one came to his party, Dream’s the reason for everything - not him. When it really, truly mattered, the others came for him and Tubbo and locked Dream away.

It’s a good end. Though Tommy’s still struggling. He is not fully recovered from everything and his sense of self-worth is still very low. Everything he does now is in the pursuit of getting people to like and accept him for who he is. Tommy avoids joining Snowchester as he doesn’t want another L’Manburg. He just wants to stay neutral and spend his days talking to people, messing with them and having fun. He wants to care and trust people again and have them like and accept in return.

His hotel, he asked Sam to build it for him so it would look good but he does indeed care about it and has put in plenty of time and effort into making it happen. He wants people such as Philza to see it and be proud of him. He wants everyone to feel welcome - why he even sent out an invite to Dream his worst enemy which is... very worrying but definitely shows how much he wants it to be a friendly place for everyone regardless of their allegiances.

And he seems open to the idea of reconciling. Techno and Philza destroyed L’Manburg but he sent them an invitation anyway and seems like, regardless of what went on in the past, and he doesn’t really regret choosing L’Manburg but does feel guilty for leaving Techno, he doesn’t want to stay bitter enemies with anyone. He wants to fix things.

And finally, he couldn’t bring himself to destroy the egg. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy something that other people loved. He couldn’t allow himself to start another war - as he blames himself for every war he’s been a part of. Tommy’s been the victim of people destroying the things he loved for too long and has grown to hate war. His hotel is meant to be a safe place. And he is still desperate for love and attention. If that means taking a piece of the egg so those who like the egg might come to see him, then he’ll do that.

#long post #tommyinnit #meta #analysis #dream smp #it wasn't meant to be so long....#xD #exile arc #uh didn't really say it but tommy shouldn't need to change for others to the extent he has #he's allowed to just be himself #why does he fill me with such pain?#oh and i didn't even mention how niki and jack hate him #uh yeah thats gonna end badly when tommy realises #and if him sparing the egg leads to disaster #tommy's going to be wrecked #he only wanted a peaceful life #and to be accepted

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highladyluck · 3 years

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Mat’s Types, or On Tricksters

I recently made a joke about Mat's 'type' essentially being the Shadar Logoth dagger, and while I stand by it, I also think there's a lot more to it than that. I believe Mat actually has two types, which is entirely appropriate for a trickster archetype. One of his types is playful, joyful, generous people, who reflect his early- but persistent- personality. The other is sharp, powerful, existentially dangerous people, like the person he becomes over the course of the series. Like a raven- itself a trickster figure in Haida storytelling- Mat is attracted to shiny things, mirrors, and death.

But first, some definitions. I'm calling Mat a trickster archetype, so what is that? The trickster archetype is built on a kind of dual contrast. To trick someone, you must change things in a surprising way. Tricksters introduce chaos into an ordered system, or reveal order in what was thought to be chaos. (It's not surprising, or a change, to add order to order, or chaos to chaos.) So tricksters are transformational, liminal figures, who defy expectations and subvert the preexisting order- but who therefore *require* predictions and structure to have any kind of impact or meaning at all. Playing a game requires there be rules; revealing a loophole requires there be a contract.

Within this definition, there's still a huge range of characters you can call tricksters, and it's useful to categorize them across spectrums. One axis of a trickster is "effectiveness", which refers to the trickster's ability to effect change; this is 'incompetent to competent', 'foolish to canny', 'harmless to dangerous'. Another axis is "motivation" which refers to the trickster's ethical structure; this is 'good to evil', 'generous to selfish', 'just to unjust'. There's another kind of axis that's related to motivation, which I'll call "comprehensibility", and which refers to the trickster's transparency of motive; the range there is 'knowable to unknowable', 'familiar to alien', 'clear to mysterious'. If you wanted to chart them all I'd make effectiveness the horizontal x-axis, motivation the vertical y-axis, and comprehensibility the z-axis perpendicular to both of them, but this is starting to get into 'gesturing at the wall map with crazy eyes' territory and I'm mostly just going to be talking about effectiveness and motivation anyway, so let’s move on.

Tricksters can be foolish figures, always getting caught, often the butt of their own joke. That's our early impression of Mat- a prankster who never really seems to get away with anything, or a fool caught in a trap of his own making. Mat is also generous, insofar as he has apparently been rescuing people his whole life, plus he's very 'easy come, easy go' about money, and has a decent instinct for gift-giving, whether those are compliments or actual physical presents. He has a strong sense of justice that puts him at odds with people who have (unearned) privilege and who are abusing power, and he loves verbally trapping people into confronting their own hypocrisy.

He keeps these traits throughout the series, but he also develops ones on the opposite side of the axes. Stealing the Shadar Logoth dagger is the catalyst for Mat's development from 'harmless, benevolent trickster' to 'dangerous, morally complicated trickster'. It literally overwrites first his personality, and then his memories. While he gets the personality back- sort of- he never gets the memories back, and his quest to do so sets him on the rest of his path.

By the end of the series, Mat has undergone enormous trauma and developed a much stronger sense of self-preservation. He becomes a canny and multi-talented figure, a brilliant tactician and strategist, a dangerous enemy to have. He's most selfish and cruel when under the influence of the Shadar Logoth dagger, but it turns out he's also never been in the rescuing business for free, he wants to be needed and will get a little pissy if he isn't (although to his credit, he respects people's wishes if they say they don't want to be saved from themselves.)

His greed for adventure and shiny things was what got him into trouble with the dagger, and he never quite loses his appraiser's eye (or taste) for luxury goods. And Tuon is entirely right to name him 'Devastation' or 'Ruin'; he's constantly blowing things up, killing enormous amounts of people directly or by proxy, and while everyone in this series commits war crimes, he's got the dubious honor of having another character (Teslyn) actually say to his face, "You know you just did a war crime, right?"

Mat spends the early books- when he's in good enough health to do so, and has the opportunity- pursuing women, wine, and song, and I mention them all together because that's the vibe he's going for. Mat genuinely loves flirting and dancing for their own sake, as fun things to do with receptive people, and that extends to sexual activities as well. It's a joyful, generous, playful way of interacting, and Mat's joie de vivre seems to attract people with similar attitudes.

Yes, Mat sometimes puts his foot in his mouth, but he's not actually disrespectful of anyone else's agency, so he's doing better than the rest of the Two Rivers boys. He doesn't make assumptions about whether there will be a next interaction or not, or how far each interaction will go; each step is negotiated with input from both players, which makes it a kind of game. Mat doesn't have long-term relationships with these fun, playful people, but he's not looking for that, and neither are they.

The other kind of people Mat is attracted to are what I'll call 'dagger people', who are sharp (smart, competent, possibly literally an edged weapon), powerful, and existentially dangerous. It is *possible* that Mat might have acquired this taste without the Shadar Logoth dagger's influence. He likes battles, he likes adventure, he generally treats women as respected equals, he might have gotten to 'date a woman who can kick your ass' all on his own. But Mat loved that Shadar Logoth dagger, they had a whole entire fucked-up relationship, and when they broke up he got a bunch of rebound knives and also some sharp, powerful, and existentially dangerous people's memories shoved into his head. Like calls to like, blood feeds blood, etc.

And boy, does Mat find these ladies, or more accurately, boy, do these ladies find him. Case in point: Melindhra, the sexy darkfriend Maiden of the Spear. I think Aludra partially fits, too- sharp, confident if not powerful, dangerous (though not so much to him as like... the world.) Mat isn't pursuing or attracted to either Joline or Tylin, but they also fit this description, and they definitely pursued him. (I'd love to add Lanfear to the list of 'dangerous ladies who made passes at Mat' but I can't quite do it with a straight face.) I don't think Mat's thing for dagger people really reaches its full flower until he starts getting to know Tuon, though.

Mat spends much of the series looking for both his types, and tends to find either one or the other, but not both in one person- until Tuon. Like Mat, Tuon is actually both these types in a sometimes uneasy coexistence. For all their many differences, they think about each other much the same way. They both find each other very layered and confusing, but also are surprisingly quick to trust each other, which is striking in people who are very suspicious, in a fraught situation, and on opposite sides. I think most of the reason they trust each other is because they have the same very contractual personal honor system, where 'my word is my bond'. That's a trickster thing; tricksters have to keep some kind of rules, or how else will they play games and know whether they've won or lost? But their rules can be hidden or idiosyncratic (that's the z-axis, comprehensibility) as you see in 'bargains with the fae'-type situations. Personal honor is also a feature of royalty, though, where the personal and political are bound together, and a person's promises can be treated as legal contracts, as well as honor-based societies in general.

Mat and Tuon take their promises to each other very seriously, but are also always both looking for loopholes so they can get the upper hand. They also are both following the script of prophecy, which I mention because they both devote a lot of time to subverting their own expectations about how exactly that prophecy is going to play out. Mat buckles down and says “I’m going to make this come out in my favor somehow, even though it’s not what I wanted,” yet he’s still surprised at how and when Tuon completes the marriage ceremony; Tuon does not find Mat anything like she expected, and she also is surprised at her own feelings for him. Near the end of the series, they take a break from playing tricks and mind games on each other, and instead bluff everyone else on the battlefield, tag-teaming their trickster powers for one last surprise attack.

Ok, so how is Tuon Mat’s first type, playful, joyful, and generous? She loves playing games with Mat, both actual literal games like stones, but also their weird flirting/power plays. She's super competitive, because anyone who wasn't who was in her shoes would be dead, but she's a good sport, "satisfied when she wins and determined when she loses". She's also got "mischievous" smiles, and turns the tables on Mat in a super trickster-y way, writing the letter that puts everyone in the circus under her protection except for Mat and his crew; which means he and his coterie are still 'not safe' and thus he has to keep travelling with her rather than bringing her back to Ebou Dar right away, by the terms of their promise.

Mat gives us really lovely descriptions of her in moments of joy, and one of the first things we learn about her is that her genuine smile makes her look completely different from the normal Resting Bitch Face she affects for self-preservation reasons. She's generous in the sense that she's (often) willing to consider other points of view and give people second chances, when others in her position wouldn't and don't. She has the generosity of privilege, which I admit is not the most laudable form of generosity, but it's still a form of generosity. She also has a natural compassion and merciful impulses that have been trimmed and hemmed and twisted into only the forms her society deems socially acceptable, but they're still there.

I have less of a job to do proving that Tuon is a 'dagger person'. You remember how I joked about 'sharp' meaning 'literally an edged weapon'? Well, I don't know how else I'm supposed to interpret "Tuon’s right hand swept across, bladed like an axe, and struck [the footpad's] throat so hard that he heard the cartilage cracking". SHE'S LITERALLY A WEAPON. MAT HAS FINALLY FOUND A REPLACEMENT FOR HIS SEXY EVIL KNIFE. :') She's also super smart, super canny, and a snappy dresser to boot. She's one of the most powerful women in the world, and by the end of the series Mat is absolutely into it. (The bit where he's like "She's so good at giving orders! *heart eyes*" is simultaneously hilarious and alarming. I get it- I simp for Kuvira from Legend of Korra, I can't throw stones at anyone who’s like ‘hot evil Empress, please step on me’- but there's a time and a place, Mat.)

And, of course, she's an existential threat to the world, Mat's family and friends, and (theoretically) Mat himself. The Seanchan Empire, despite not being bigoted towards the Tinkers and having pretty good gender equality, is committing massive human rights violations left and right, thanks to the slavery, channelerphobia, and imperialism. As a tool of the Empire, unless he works on extricating himself, Mat's going to be culpable for that (he already is, really, but it could be worse), which is a stain on his soul that I don't think either he or the readers want. Being a tool of the Empire is an existential threat to Mat's idea of himself as an independent agent and good person, and I guess also an existential threat to his life since he's getting all those assassination attempts from his coworkers. (I am excluding Tuon from the assassination attempts; as I've mentioned in a previous essay, her threats to Mat are not serious and are in fact a form of deranged flirting.)

Tuon and Mat are both dual-axis tricksters, in their way. Tuon- or I should really be saying, Fortuona, Lady Luck- is more on the bringing order to chaos side, and Mat falls most characteristically on the bringing chaos to order end of things. But they switch roles- Mat shores up the proper order of things when he reminds Tuon to keep her promises, and Tuon is often a chaotic influence at court, with her mercy or willingness to change her mind. They also both understand what it's like to be both a person and an archetype- Mat worries about losing his individual choice and freedom by becoming a hero, and Tuon worries about becoming too vulnerable and individual to be the strong and impartial hand she thinks the Empire needs.

They've also both experienced their instincts and worldview being overwritten by external forces; for Tuon it's been happening since birth and she's almost entirely embraced the process; for Mat, it was the consequence of a choice he made and he fought it every step of the way. They have very different responses, but they've experienced weirdly similar 'erasure' experiences. And they both have good and evil impulses entwined in complicated ways. Tuon is a survivor and a monster; a preserver and a destroyer; a person and an empire. And Mat builds a relationship with her when- and because- he accepts that he is both a lover and a fighter; generous and thieving; a person and a weapon. You may not like it, but this is what peak narrative compatibility looks like.

#wheel of time #wheel of time meta #meta #mat cauthon #tuon paendrag #mat/tuon #problematic fave tuon #trickster #tricksters #'I had more thoughts on my one-line joke so here is a follow-up essay' should be inscribed on my tombstone #it's about the ARCHETYPAL DEPTH #RJ gave me a 7-layer-dip of mutually reinforcing thematic parallels and my poor little 14-year-old literary tastebuds never recovered #mat/dagger

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laysserre · 3 years

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What about this. An AU Dimension where the hybrids are hunted and killed.

I have to explain this headcanon I have: I have this generally thought where the chat is actually very useful, for example, after the execution the chat gave Techno the coordinates of the chest with his guns, but he didn't take the oportunity for lore reasons. So...

Techno is mining like he normally does in the Nether but when he pass through the portal he isn't in the tundra, he's in a garden in the middle of a forest. His first thought was that the portal spawned bad or something because the fuckin sunlight really hurt his eyes, but when he turns around to come back to the Nether te portal is just not there.

Whatever, he can do another one, but, oh surprised! He hasn't any blocks of obsidian, now he needs to find some lava to create the portal and he is mad as hell.

The chat starts screaming about the danger, and how the citizens will kill him if they see that Techno is a hybrid, even if Techno doesn't believe his chat he took precautions, I mean, the mask he wears covers almost his entire face, except for his lips and fangs.

In the little town, he listen how everyone is talking about "Dream" the hybrid hunter and all the shit he does, this Dream is in the town square holding a siren hybrid head that he killed near of there. This guy is serious, screaming of how he's the best and no one can stop him, then, Dream center his attention in Techno, who looks so sus because no one ever seen him before.

He try to humiliate Techno because he wears the mask and actually threaten him for the fangs, Techno si more relaxed, saying is a war trophy that Dream could never have at the end he leave the town saying "I'm going to kill you with your own axe".

When he finally was in the exit road he see a lot of heads like skewers in spears, one of the was his head. By this point Techno knows this was not his dimension.

He made a house in the middle of the forest and in his first visit to the Nether the piglins just get around him like if he was their God, they help Techno to know where are all the hybrids or what the humans do with them.

He finally finds a familiar face, Wilbur.

He was an avian, his wings are brown and he is so injured and scared, Techno starts to kill people to calm the voices and heals Wilbur in a long process of trust, Wil thinks he's another human who want to hurt him but eventualy he win the trusts of the avian and he tell his story.

Before getting captured he had a family, his father Philza, his mother Kristin and his little brother Tommy, during the kidnaping, those humans hurt Kristin, Tommy was mad about but to not deal with the problem, the rebel hybrid, they killed both.

His father and he were taken to a black market to be sold as slaves. After that Wilbur never seen his father again. At least, Techno knows the Philza in this dimension may be alive, the question was, where?

A few days later, Techno and Wilbur know about an ambulant circus who round around with hybrids as the main attraction, so, they make a plan, to keep the hybrids safe, Wilbur and Techno starts to built an basement under Techno's house.

Techno will have the opportunity to ride Carl and visit the circus to count how many hybrids are in there and all the rooms they have to made to keep the hybrids.

The first impression Techno's had was good, a large tent, some cages he supposed were for the hybrids and some other things like food and prizes. It wasn't a circus as such, more like a zoo but Techno wasn't in charge to put the names.

The bad thing starts when he starts to recognize the faces in the cages. Tubbo and Schlatt in one, Niki in a huge fish tank, Eret, Puffy, Sapnap, he can continue the list, all of them chained, neaked and weak, but that one, the main attraction had his entire atention.

It was Philza.

They called it "a real angel" but he looked so sad and done with his life that Techno can't stop looking him and think about how he will get him out of it. Totally broke his heart seen the Angel of death just sit in there waiting for his own death.

All the vitality why Techno fell in love with him was totally gone, so, he can't wait to finish the basement and rescue all of them.

It was involuntary, Techno almost scream "I want him, put a price" the guide just laughed and said "It's not for sale" but Techno don't gave up "Any price, I would pay anything for him". Again he's rejected and in a final try he threaten "I'll have him, no matter how cost".

Finally Techno leaves the circus. It wouldn't be the last time he would return.

#techza #technophil #I need a villain and is Dream but I love that guy #Please don't be mad at me #AU dimension #Philza and WIlbur are avians #English is not my first language i'm sorry for the errors #Can you gift me a dictionary?#Lay's ideas

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deithe · 3 years

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the bones (2,847 words) (1/1)

(an introspective on jason grace. kind of?)

read here on ao3 or read below the cut!

jason falls in love with the human equivalent of a forest fire

(his mother fell in love with the sky itself)

jason grace grew up being told that his destiny was very, very simple.

his first and most important mission, handed down to him from lady juno and mother lupa, was that jason was destined to save rome. that his destiny lay with new rome and camp jupiter, a new romulus to lead the pack to greatness. he would spill so much blood in new rome’s name that the little tiber would overflow and the gods would crown him with a golden laurel made from monster ichor.

he would be everything everyone else needed.

a spear for the senate, a shield for new rome, a standard to replace the one that had been lost, a sword for the gods to wield, and another pack member for lupa. he would be the perfect soldier, a demigod fashioned by two god-mothers for the simple act of being a weapon.

his second duty was that jason was to be nothing like his father.

his father, evil, unpredictable, selfish and cruel, was to be jason’s antithesis. lady juno stressed this, as did the senate, as did his praetors (though praetor saville jason eventually killed in battle, so jason doesn’t take her words to heart anymore). jason was never, ever to be like his father. all sons of jupiter before him were either driven insane or were killed, and jason’s great destiny could not afford for him to do either of those things.

‘hubris’ lady juno once told him, while going through his latin lessons in the damp cold of the den (or wolf house, as she called it), ‘is the thing that kills sons of jupiter’.

so jason was to never be prideful, but at the same time, never to believe he was inferior. he was to be subservient but never meek, he was to be a capable fighter but never violent. he was to be kind but not a pushover. open but not flirtatious.

he was to be perfect. he could not afford anything else.

then he, in the span of a few months, murdered his prateor after finding out she was a traitor, watched his friend be assaulted by a family legacy of prophetic visions which turned him into a paranoid asshole, watched his other friend assume a leadership role, one which he tried to refuse, and fought an army, killed a titan and toppled kronos’ black throne.

he also became praetor and then was promptly kidnapped by lady juno, leaving said other friend with all the responsibility.

then any and all plans the gods had for him were ruined by a daughter of aphrodite with eyes like the earth and a son of hephaestus with a smile like war.

how could jason be the perfect soldier when his loyalties no longer lay with new rome? he loved his home, he loved his siblings-in-arms, he loved the legion-

he loved leo and piper more than the breath in his lungs, than the sky and earth and more than his destiny. he loved them enough to try and find whatever scraps of himself he had. to create something they could love too.

(heracles killed himself after accidentally killing his family. love killed him in the end)

and so, jason failed in his first mission. he could no longer put new rome above them, above camp half-blood.

jason doesn’t think becoming his father is an option for him, however. his father is prideful and arrogant and his father's likeness, he will eventually learn, belongs only to his prodigal sister.

and so, jason grace finds his last name, a family he never knew, friends he could die for and an empty cabin that seemed less lonely with leo or piper in it.

then they went on a quest, leo built a ship and they all set sail to stop gaia from rising.

then jason lost leo, then jason lost everything, then jason lost himself and then lost piper-

and, in the middle of winter, leo valdez came crashing down on a metal dragon with eyes like a nuclear explosion and teeth made for tearing meat from bone, or tearing jason’s heart from his chest.

and then jason found himself again in the space between the junction between leo valdez's fourth and fifth ribs.

leo valdez is a lot of things. he’s a son of hephaestus and a complete asshole. he’s the first child of hephaestus to be born with the ability to create and control fire in over 400 years. he’s a 5’4ft guy who wears platformed boots to make himself seem taller. he’s so powerful that he obliterated gaia. he’s a genius. he thinks spraying axe bodyspray on himself is the same as a shower. he overworks himself even when he doesn’t have to. he can fight gods and go toe-to-toe with any big three kid and hold his own. he likes to survive on a diet of mango monster energy and takis. he's obnoxious. he's thoughtful. he makes mean-spirited jokes at other people's expense. he's the best person jason's ever met

he’s-

currently late for their date.

It’s not that jason minds, per se, but leo has a nasty habit of getting so completely lost in his work that he can plan a date for the next day, and jason won’t see him for at least three days. it’s one of the downsides of being the trophy boyfriend of a genius.

jason sighs and rocks back on his heels, eyes darting up to the grey, overcast sky. he can almost hear leo in his head, asking if he could pretty please make it less goddamn cold? and his pout when jason refuses to change the weather for him.

it's not that jason won't. it's just that he can't. it makes aeolus snappy.

sometimes he still does it. manipulates the air currents just enough to warm the air around them and leo smiles, a real one, small and soft. like it wasn't meant to be seen. a secret thing, just for jason.

jason doesn't see leo smile like that often.

it's mid-february in new york and jason is kicking around central park in the grey mid-day light. it's quiet, this part of the park, with barely anyone passing jason as he leans against a tree, wet dew dripping into his unstyled hair. it's cold, but not cold enough for a freeze or snow. just the right amount of cold to turn your hands numb and purple from cold

which. if you've never seen leo 'was raised in texas and has fire powers' valdez in new york snow, jason fully believes you've never lived.

he spends another 30 minutes splitting his time from staring into space and wandering around the meeting spot they've arranged. it's peaceful here. jason can even hear some birds twittering and chirping in the trees above. the cold even stops bothering him. jason likes being alone sometimes.

it reminds him of the lupercal and lupa. long days and nights in the loneliness of the redwood forest. just him and the wolves and the stars.

though now jason has sturdy boots and a wool jacket, so not exactly the same.

he's in the middle of trying to coax a timid sparrow onto the hand, crouched on the balls of his feet when he feels a presence beside him. he goes stiff when he realises and then, like all the tension has been zapped out of him, goes relaxed again.

"that," leo whispers, also crouched beside jason, "is one fat fucking bird"

jason represses a grin, "don't say that. he's probably barely eaten all winter," and leo snorts, moving closer to jason so their shoulders brush. the bird regards leo with some caution but his black, beady eyes seem to acknowledge that jason would keep him safe.

"he looks better fed than me, jace. do you care more about this bird than your own poor boyfriend?" leo says, faux-sadness in his voice, "how cruel, jason grace. how cruel".

jason turns in time to see leo shake his head, black curls wild around his face as they shudder like leaves in the wind. his eyes are dark brown, watching the bird watch leo. a staring contest.

leo says his name like no one else does. like it's a name. like it's good. like it's something familiar and warm. he does not say 'jason' and imagine a great hero or a wolf-boy with no past. he does not say 'grace' like a joke, like grasp for power, like it carries too much weight for his tongue to bare.

he says it like it belongs to jason. he says it like it's important. not too fast, but not too slow.

leo turns his head to find jason staring at him.

"jason" he calls, lips quirking up at the edge, pulling out the 'o' like toffee, "i know i'm pretty irresistible but please, keep your longing stares for the bedroom"

jason shoves up against leo's shoulder, blush bursting across his already red-cold face.

he pushes just slightly too hard and leo goes spilling across the wet grass, yelping in surprise.

"jason!" he yells, looking up at jason half shocked and half in amusement. "what the fuck, dude!"

jason can't help himself.

leo is wearing jason's hoodie, the black one mrs.blofis picked out for jason which leo claimed as his own even before they started dating. his new denim, fur-lined jacket (from the hide of the nemean lion they killed last year) is just slightly too big and he's wearing black jeans. he looks like the college freshman he is. he looks mortal.

he looks human. he has leaves in his hair and his cheeks are flushed from the cold, teeth showing through the toothy smile he's giving and-

it's uncanny, sometimes, how well they can pass for normal. you almost can't tell leo's died and come back to life. you almost can't tell he's more powerful than any living mortal.

almost.

jason falls on top of leo in the wet grass, which causes leo to yelp, again, and knee jason in the stomach.

jason groans "dude, what the hades was that for?" and he rolls of leo, onto the wet grass beside him, arms protectively covering his bruised stomach.

"you fell directly on top of me, you big lug," and leo sits up, picking a leaf out of his curls absentmindedly, "if you haven't noticed, you're like a bean-pole with muscle mass. that shit hurts!"

jason pouts up at leo, who manages to look both unimpressed and fond. he rolls his eyes and offers his hand to jason, who accepts and leo hauls him into a sitting position in front of him

"hi, leo" jason says finally, "you're late"

"i'm not late, loser, you're just a nerd and get places earlier than normal people. its super weird," leo tells him, matter-of-factly, scooting closer to him as they sit on the ground. "you should really get it checked. might be terminal nerdiness. the glasses are just the first sign"

jason raises an eyebrow, curviving over said glasses. "i didn't know it could be terminal. oh well, guess i'll just wither away and die from being punctual. what an injust life i lead. how the sorrows never end"

leo pouts, eyes sparking with enough warmth to keep out the cold for decades to come, "don't be so down about it, I hear being a nerd has perks,"

jason moves closer, so his knees are half-pulled up to his chest and he's balancing his weight on his hand. leo fits perfectly in the bracket of his arms.

"oh? do tell?" he asks, and leo is close enough that jason can see the faint freckles on his cheeks. they're fading from how far away leo has been from the sun, but jason loves them anyways.

"yup," leo says, popping the p and smiling like the cat who got the cream. "do you know that all nerds get super hot and funny and sexy boyfriends? as compensation for being such nerds, of course"

jason pulls back his head a bit, just as leo laces his arms around his shoulders, "really?" and his voice is soft, but the smile won't disappear from his lips, "wow, didn't know that. guess I'm lucky that you're such a huge nerd or-"

leo kisses him like coming home. and in a way it is.

jason has known many homes. he's known the small apartment with his mother that smelt like spilt wine and smoke and mold. he's known the lupercal and the redwood forests around it. he's known the barracks at camp jupiter and the feeling of purpose in his chest. he's known cabin 1 and cabin 9 and bunker 9 and on the back of festus and on the argo. he's known the feeling of reyna laughing as he tells her wild stories and of the fifth cohort raising him on their shields. he's known lying in leo's private room with piper and leo, listening to low music and feeling safe with just them.

but the one person who jason has felt like home since they met was leo. his high ground through the tsunami. his parachute during a plane crash. the one point of home. like the north-star.

jason smiles into the kiss, his free hand tangling itself in the rough fabric of leo's dark blue denim jacket. it's soft and chaste, more a press of warm lips than anything. it's comforting. it's familiar. it's everything he wants.

leo pulls back a bit, just far enough to speak but still close enough that his breath brushes up against jason's cold face. "hi," he says, brushing his nose against his, "missed you, bro".

jason snorts, "i missed you too, leo, how's MIT treating you?"

"like i'm it's bitch is how it's treating me," leo tells him, slumping slightly into jason, forehead against jason's. "can we not talk about college? i think if we talk about college I might start crying and then our date will be ruined"

jason pulls back a bit to look at leo. he does look more tired than usual, eye-bags darker and lips bitten from nervousness. he frowns, using his free hand to cup his face. "are you okay? we can just go back to your dorm if you're too tired-"

"ugh, no way" leo groans, "fuck that. i just wanna spend time with you, okay? i wanna be mushy and all that gay shit. i want bad food and to kiss you again and again and do more than kissing-"

jason rolls his eyes.

"-and then go back to mrs.blofis apartment and watch really bad movies you like for some reason and then i'll go to sleep beside you and it'll be gay and shit"

"gay and shit?"

"gay and shit, you better believe it grace. but first-"

and leo untangles himself from jason and stands up, brushing the dirt from his knees leaving jason frowning on the floor.

he offers out his hand, brown skin calloused from work, long, thin fingers curled slightly as the palm faced upwards.

"c'mon, super, treat your louis lane to some greasy new york food before he decides batman has better pay"

jason is so, so lucky he got leo valdez. that the fates decides to make sure that his destiny crosses leo's. that he convinced leo valdez to let down his walls, to stay, that jason wouldn't leave him like the others, or hurt him or betray him.

that jason was in it for as long as leo wanted him to be. that jason only wanted leo to say his name, wanted to give it to leo because leo's the only one who's mouth jason trusts with it. that jason wanted to give leo his past. wanted to show him and tell him where he got each scar.

he trusts leo with this. he trusts leo's hands to not burn it all to ash. because he knows that if leo wanted to, he could. he could burn jason alive with a thought. turn him to ash and glass with a flick of his hand.

jason has fallen in love with a nuclear bomb, with a supernova of a boy and jason doesn't care if it kills him, because he has spent so long pretending to be what everyone else needed, that now he was going to be who he wanted to be. even if it got him killed. even if it burned him alive.

jason grace has fallen in love with the human version of a forest fire. he should be afraid of it, of leo. he is not. he never will be.

beryl grace fell in love with the sky itself. wanted all the stars in heaven and didn't care what happened to her. as long as she knew she had the stars attention. as long as she knew the sky loved her back.

as long as he knew the fire loved him back.

he takes his hand.

#my writing #jason grace #fanfic #hoo #toa has no power over me i do as i please #leo valdez #valgrace

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hysterialevi · 3 years

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Hjarta | Final Chapter

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

Author’s note: Holy shit I can’t believe it’s already the last chapter. Thank you guys so much for sticking with this story from the start, and for sending me wonderful comments/messages of support. I really had fun writing this fanfic and interacting with you all, so I hope you’ll enjoy this last part of Hjarta. This story seriously means a lot to me, and it makes my day to know how many of you liked it. Stay awesome :)

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter

THRYMR’S TOMB

A WHILE LATER

“Eivor!” Sigurd called out through the storm, forcing his way across the snow. “Are you there?”

The prince shielded his face from the frost with a protective arm and squinted, desperately searching for his lover as he wandered blindly through the fog. The young man had disappeared from the battle not too long ago, and seemingly taken Kjotve’s fate into his own hands. What became of either of them still remained a mystery to Sigurd, and as more time passed by, he found himself feeling increasingly worried for Eivor’s life.

“Eivor!” He repeated a tad louder this time. “Say something! Can you hear me?”

Much to his relief, a faint voice answered from a distance.

“...I’m here, Sigurd...!”

Inching closer towards the voice, the older man ventured deeper into the mist and peered forward, only to spot the outline of a familiar shadow trudging in his direction.

Eivor was sauntering underneath the sun’s blurred rays with a slight hiccup in his step, and fresh blood clinging to his axe. His face seemed to be wiped clean of all the energy that once burned in his eyes, and yet, he appeared to be... at peace.

A calming aura could be seen blossoming from his heart like a single flower in a barren field, and in a strange way, it almost looked as if he had completely forgotten about the war. Not a single hint of dread or terror weathered his blissful expression, and the ribbons of sunlight dancing above him only added to his soothing demeanor.

Sigurd picked up his pace and began jogging, eagerly rushing to rejoin his lover.

“Eivor...!” He said with a sigh of relief, immediately pulling the man into a hug. “There you are.”

Eivor allowed his head to sit on Sigurd’s chest, giving himself some time to breathe.

“...Sigurd,” he whispered out of exhaustion, “...I did it. I actually did it.”

The prince continued cradling the younger man in his embrace, providing him with a sense of warmth amidst all the snow.

“What happened to you, Eivor? Where’s Kjotve? I saw you run off with him earlier. Is he dead? Did you... did you kill him?”

Eivor nodded and closed his eyes, not even bothering to say a word.

“Truly...?” Sigurd asked, staring at the other man in disbelief.

Could it really be possible that the battle was already finished? It hadn’t been too long ago that the prince was barely evading death’s grasp, and now, the storm had suddenly passed. Part of him found the news too good to be true considering the path they used to get here, and yet, something in Eivor’s tone rang with sincerity.

Sigurd tightened his grip on the smaller warrior and chuckled out of elation, nearly breaking into tears. “Then it’s over. The war... is finally over.”

He brought a hand to Eivor’s chin, lifting it gently so that he could see his face.

“What about you, my love? Are you well?”

The Wolf-Kissed displayed a subtle smile, radiating as if he were the moon itself.

“...I am. For the first time since that night... I’m okay.”

Sigurd returned the smile and cupped the back of Eivor’s head, pulling him close so that he could plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Good.”

Staying snuggled in each other’s arms, the couple took some time to enjoy the peace as the storm steadily died down around them, allowing more and more of the sun to break through. The crippling mist that had built up during the battle was slowly beginning to fade, and soon enough, nothing but a vast blue sky remained hovering above them.

Unbeknownst to Sigurd however, a third party had already found them and walked in on their brief reunion, but had not yet announced their presence.

In the distance, Arngeir quietly watched the scene in front of him unfold with a sense of shock clouding his mind, causing him to gawk incredulously. Even though he suspected that the prince would be somewhere in the vicinity with his son, he did not expect the two of them to be enwrapped in such a loving embrace.

...How long had they felt like this, he wondered? Was their bond something that had been ignited due to the recent string of battles, or had this been carrying on ever since Styrbjorn first arrived?

The jarl was honestly at a loss. He held no disgust in his heart for the peculiar couple before him, but he couldn’t deny that he was taken aback. Despite his knowledge of Sigurd and Eivor’s friendship in the past, he never would’ve guessed that there was something deeper between them.

Though, the more Arngeir thought about it, he supposed there really was nothing peculiar about their relationship. The knot that intertwined their fates was made of pure, genuine love delivered straight from the hands of Freya, and to his surprise, he just couldn’t bring himself to interfere.

It was something he hadn’t seen in ages thanks to the horrors of this war, but now that it was over, Arngeir figured he may as well let his doubts die with it.

He had had enough of tragedy.

Turning on his heel, the jarl decided to leave the couple alone and returned to the other half of the island, ready to inform his clan of their miraculous victory. He still didn’t know whether he’d tell Styrbjorn about his unanticipated discovery or not, but one thing was for certain.

Kjotve’s kingdom had finally fallen.

In spite of all the obstacles Styrbjorn’s people faced, his entire bloodline had been struck down, and his throne had been left unattended. No one in Norway would ever hear of his clan again, and his fortress would be left to crumble under the weight of the absence that consumed it.

The barbarian king was vanquished. Just like his legacy.

~~~~~~~~~~

THE NEXT DAY

BJORNHEIMR, THE LONGHOUSE

Sigurd placed the last of his belongings in the crate sitting before him, reminiscing as he stood in the middle of his chambers. It felt like a lifetime ago that he was first packing his things in preparation for the journey to Bjornheimr, and now, he was getting ready to leave.

After ages of enduring this war and accepting it as his reality, the prince had suddenly found himself in a world where Kjotve was no longer a problem, and his clan had been reduced to ashes in the wind.

A new era had been brought about thanks to their victory at Thrymr’s Tomb, and the kingdom now celebrated in harmony to honor the peace that had finally been restored.

Despite the jovial mood of his people however, Sigurd admittedly didn’t know how to process the whole situation himself. Part of him rejoiced due to the fact that he’d never have to deal with Kjotve’s cruelty again, but he would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t have his regrets.

He didn’t come out of this unscathed, after all. The Raven Clan may have emerged victorious from their fight against the barbarian king, but there were still many wounds that needed mending... including Dag’s loss.

Sigurd still remembered his last conversation with the man as if it happened yesterday. Even though Dag proved to be a traitor in his final moments, the prince just couldn’t bring himself to discard the memories they once shared, or the fondness that followed. In his eyes, the fallen warrior would always be that same little boy who kept him company as a child, and pulled him away from the darkness when his mother passed on.

As for the Dag he executed, Sigurd would remember him as no more than a fragment of his childhood friend, and the result of a man who had been crippled by his own jealousy. He would be a reminder for the prince to never fall prey to his demons, lest he lose the soul he had fought so long to preserve. It was what he owed his parents after all these years, and to himself.

Letting out a remorseful sigh, Sigurd shook his head and silenced the thoughts that threatened to encompass his mind, not willing to entertain his grief any further. He would never forget the loved ones he had lost during the events of this war, but for his own sake -- he had to move on.

Lifting up the crate with a soft grunt, Sigurd secured the box in his arms and began striding towards the archway, only to stop in his tracks when he noticed someone waiting for him.

At the moment, Eivor was standing on the other side of the door with his hands linked together and his head hanging low, clearly disheartened by Sigurd’s upcoming departure. His gaze swept in the floor in an attempt to avoid confronting the absence he would soon have to accept, and even the sight of the prince himself wasn’t able to lift his mood.

“Eivor...!” Sigurd greeted. “You came.”

The Wolf-Kissed stepped tentatively into the room, staring at his lover as if this was the last time they’d ever meet.

“Of course I did. I wanted to see you again before...” his expression sank slightly, “...before you left.”

Sigurd took note of the shift in his lover’s mood and placed the crate down for a moment, gently gripping Eivor’s wrist in a comforting manner.

“Eivor,” he said in a gentler tone, “...you know I have to go.”

“I do. I just wish you could stay longer. We spent so much of our time worrying about the people we lost that... we forgot we still had each other. But now that you’re leaving, it’s all I can think about.”

Sigurd lifted a hand to Eivor’s cheek and brushed away a lock of hair, tucking it neatly behind his ear.

“You can still come with me. You know that, right? I realize we’ve had this conversation before, but if you truly want us to stay together, I can arrange that.”

In spite of his sorrow, the younger man remained staunch in his decision. “I’m sorry, Sigurd, but I must remain here. As much as I wish I could go with you, Bjornheimr needs me. My father needs me. I’m the only family he has left apart from Randvi, and she’ll be gone too.”

Sigurd nodded sympathetically. “Very well. If that’s what you wish.”

Eivor paused briefly, switching to a different concern on his mind. “...You will visit me, right? This won’t be the last time I’ll see you?”

“Of course not,” the prince reassured. “I can’t say when I’ll have the chance to return to Bjornheimr, but -- I promise you -- as soon as the opportunity reveals itself, I’ll be here again.”

The other man didn’t appear any less forlorn, but accepted the promise nonetheless.

“I’ll be waiting. But until then...” Eivor leaned forward, pecking a goodbye kiss on Sigurd’s lips, “...stay safe, my love. I wish nothing but happiness for you.”

The prince pressed his forehead against Eivor’s, cherishing their last few minutes together.

“The same goes for you. My duties may require me to start a new life in preparation for the throne, but I’ll never forget everything you’ve done. Thank you. I mean it.”

Taking a few more moments to bask in each other’s company, the two of them simply cuddled in silence before separating the embrace, and retreating to the shells they so often wore around the rest of the village.

The sun had managed to climb to the top of the sky’s apex by now, and most of the Raven Clan were already gathered at the docks. The longships were fit to set sail after an entire morning’s worth of preparations, and their people were eager to return home. The only thing they needed now... was the presence of their prince himself.

“I suppose it’s time for me to leave.” Sigurd noted somberly, reluctantly taking hold of the crate once again. “Care to join me for the walk to the ship?”

Eivor concealed his pain with a friendly veil and stepped to the side, allowing Sigurd some room to walk through the doorway.

“After you, my friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A LITTLE LATER

THE DOCKS

Walking alongside one another as they headed towards the shore, Eivor and Sigurd strolled silently through the village with a bittersweet relief resting in their spirits, clouding their minds like the smoke of a cold pyre.

It brought them both great joy to see Kjotve’s reign finally come to an end, but they couldn’t stop themselves from wondering what waited beyond the horizon now that the war was over.

Was this the start of Sigurd’s life as a future king? Would he and Randvi truly be the rulers of Norway one day? How was he even going to raise a family? The prince had never planned to be a father, and a part of him wanted to scream at the thought of being forced to hide his true emotions once again.

He didn’t want to forget Eivor, or the things they experienced together. These past few weeks had been some of the best and worst moments of his life, and he dreaded the idea of allowing their bond to fade into a distant memory. But for the sake of his kingdom, Sigurd knew he had to leave the man behind if he wanted any chance of becoming a decent leader.

It was his duty, after all. Styrbjorn had managed to keep his end of the promise in regards to battling his addiction, so the prince figured it would only be fair if he upheld his own. Personal thoughts and desires no longer mattered within the realm of royalty. From this day on, Sigurd would be living to serve his people -- not himself.

“There they are.” He remarked, gesturing towards the end of the pier. Eivor followed Sigurd’s line of sight, only to spot Styrbjorn, Arngeir, and Randvi all waiting by the longship.

“So this is it then,” he said, already missing the prince’s company. “This is where we part ways.”

Sigurd shared his partner’s disappointment, but tried to keep a strong face nonetheless. “For now. You and I will be separated for some time, but I’ll visit you as much as I can. And you’re always welcome in Fornburg too, should you ever wish to come to me instead.”

“Thank you. I’ll consider it.”

Eivor placed a hand on the side of the prince’s arm, saying one last thing while he still had the chance.

“...Wait, Sigurd. Before you go.”

The older man came to a pause, giving Eivor a curious glance. “Yes? What is it?”

The Wolf-Kissed stuttered, admittedly unsure of where he was taking this. He didn’t have anything in particular he wanted Sigurd to hear -- he just hoped to keep him around for a little longer.

“Erm, n-nothing. I just wanted to say I love you.”

Sigurd smiled warmly at the comment despite Eivor’s awkwardness and chuckled lightly, attempting to comfort him.

“I love you too, Eivor. Never forget it.”

Leaving the younger man with those words, Sigurd carried on with the task at hand and sauntered towards the ship, placing the crate down by the boarding plank as one of the oarsmen came to assist him. Meanwhile, Styrbjorn greeted the two men with a cheery temperament, happy to get things going.

“Sigurd, Eivor!” The king exclaimed jovially. “It’s good to see you both in one piece after the battle yesterday. We lost many warriors during the assault at Thrymr’s Tomb, but now, we at least have the luxury of saying that their deaths weren’t in vain...” he turned to the Wolf-Kissed, “...and it’s all thanks to you, my boy.”

Eivor bowed his head in a humble manner. “I only did what was required of me.”

Styrbjorn let out a soft laugh. “Nonsense. Sigurd has told me of the tenacity you displayed on the battlefield. You showed great courage, and you fought with honor. It is thanks to your efforts that Kjotve now lies in a frigid tomb.”

Arngeir joined in. “Indeed. Had it not been for your valor, we would all still be bound by Kjotve’s chains. Varin would be proud of you, Eivor. And Ulfar too.”

“Thank you, father.”

Eivor brought his attention to Styrbjorn, trying his best to hide the sorrow lurking within him. “...So, I imagine you’ll be departing soon?”

To his surprise, the king appeared to have other things in mind. “Actually, there is something else your father and I would like to discuss first. Something that concerns you and my son.”

Sigurd froze at that, already suspicious of where this was leading. “...W-What do you mean?”

Arngeir stepped forward, hesitant to speak any further. “Forgive my being candid, but we are aware of the relationship between you two.”

Eivor instantly felt the color drain from his face, and he could’ve sworn he saw his own soul fleeing from his body.

“You-- what?”

“Do not be alarmed, my son. I am not here to pass judgement. Only to offer a proposal.”

“But... how? How did you find out?”

Arngeir crossed his arms in thought. “Yesterday, during the battle. Sigurd and I left the fort in order to search for you. We noticed you had disappeared at some point, and feared you may be in danger. Though, by the time I stumbled upon you, you had already found your way to the prince.”

“That means... you saw us...”

“...Embracing one another, yes. I apologize, Eivor. I did not mean to intrude.”

The young man exchanged glances with Sigurd, terrified to see the outcome of this discovery. “So, what does this mean for us? Are we to face punishment?”

Arngeir shook his head. “No. Quite the contrary, actually. I realize it isn’t my place to speak about this -- and for that I am sorry -- but I admit I shared this news with Styrbjorn once we returned, for I had an idea in mind that I wished to broach.”

That caught Sigurd’s attention. “An idea? About what?”

Styrbjorn provided the answer. “About this alliance, of course. You see, when we first arranged this marriage between you and Randvi, we did so with the intention of forming an ironclad bond. A bond born out of love. We believed it would be a way to ensure that our clans never fell apart, since our families would be intertwined from that day on. Clearly however, we were mistaken.”

The jarl nodded in agreement. “Indeed. It seems that the bond we were looking for... had been between you two all along.”

Arngeir trailed off into silence for a moment, considering his next words.

“Listen, both of you. Styrbjorn and I had a long conversation yesterday once I revealed my discovery. We discussed many things pertaining to this alliance, and after our talk, we came to the conclusion that... this marriage is no longer necessary.”

Sigurd’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait, are you saying that it’s over?”

“Ultimately, the choice lies with you. If you wish to end this marriage, and if Eivor decides to go in Randvi’s stead, then I have already told Styrbjorn that I have no qualms with it.”

The prince immediately looked at his lover, radiating with a newfound hope.

“Eivor...! Think about it. You could join me, just like we wanted.”

The Wolf-Kissed glanced at Arngeir, double-checking with him first.

“But what about you, father? Are you certain about this? I don’t want to abandon you.”

The jarl gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. “Do not fret, Eivor. You’re not abandoning anybody. If you choose to stay with Sigurd, then Randvi will remain here in your place. Neither of us will be alone.”

Randvi suddenly jumped into the conversation, encouraging her brother to follow his desires.

“Go on, Eivor. It’s okay. Father and I will have each other. We’ll rebuild Bjornheimr, and return this village to what it once was. By the time you come back, this place will be thriving more than it ever did. In the meantime, go with Sigurd. A new life awaits you in Fornburg. Don’t let this opportunity pass.”

“She’s right, Eivor,” Arngeir said. “All I’ve ever wanted for any of you is to be happy. If you believe that being with Sigurd is best for you, then go.”

The young man stumbled over his words, rendered completely speechless by how this scenario had turned out. When he awoke this morning, he never imagined that he’d be given the option to freely roam the kingdom at Sigurd’s side, living with him as if they were family.

If anything, Eivor fully expected that he would be bidding the prince farewell, and left to wallow in the melancholy that had formed in his heart during this past month. So much anger and regret had taken control of his spirit’s reins ever since the news of Sigurd’s departure, and now... it was all gone. Just like that.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” he replied. “...Thank you, father. You can’t imagine how much this means to me.”

A gleeful expression spread across the jarl’s face. “I’m glad, Eivor.”

Randvi wrapped her arms around her younger brother, pulling the man into one last hug before saying goodbye.

“We’ll miss you, little cub. Take care of yourself, and each other. Alright?”

“We will. I promise.”

The woman gave him a playful shove. “Then get out of here. And make sure to knock plenty of skulls. Let the world know who we are.”

Eivor chuckled at the response, grinning from ear-to-ear. “The Bear Clan’s name will be fluttering from the lips of every bard in Norway when I’m done. I assure you. Until then, farewell, and thank you for all you’ve given me.”

The Wolf-Kissed walked over to Sigurd’s side, openly taking hold of his hand for the first time since they met. The prince’s eyes were twinkling with a vibrant ray of hope at this point, and a familiar sense of contentment had finally returned to his soul.

“Come, my love,” Eivor ushered. “Fornburg awaits.”

~~~~~~~~~~

LATER THAT DAY

Steadily gliding across the ocean’s hills, the longship broke free from the harbor and began heading out towards the vastness of the open sea, prepared to deliver its occupants back home after a long and arduous battle.

Petals of snow could be seen dancing along the surface of the vessel’s billowing sails, and in the distance, the sun’s light shone through the mountains, causing the water below to shimmer with a glittering streak.

Birds soared in harmony with the wind that guided the longship’s course and left a trail of feathers in their wake, accompanying the warriors who sailed beneath their wings.

All the creatures of Midgard seemed to band together in celebration now that the age of war had perished, and the earth cried out in relief due to the lack of blood littering its soil.

As for Eivor, the man simply rested against the longship’s walls and marveled at the view in front of him, listening intently while Sigurd entertained him with tales of Fornburg’s wonders. The prince spoke of his home with a great fondness and constructed vivid images using only the movement of his hands, painting a clear picture for his companion.

Meanwhile, the oarsmen behind them burst into song and began reciting a number of sea shanties, singing heartily as if they were performing for the gods themselves. Their voices rang merrily into the sky like a horn of victory, and the world around them seemed to bloom with revival.

It was the start of a new dawn. After countless years of pointless death and suffering, the clans in Norway had become united under one crown, and Kjotve had paid the ultimate price. His name had been blotted out with the stain of a mad tyrant, and his victims had been released from their ethereal chains in the afterlife.

Most importantly though, Eivor no longer felt the need to hide who he was. The fantasy that once haunted him in his dreams had become a reality, and now, he was free to love Sigurd as any man would love his wife. The times of fear and judgement were over at last, and the alliance between their peoples had been reignited with a different bond.

Their relationship would be the foundation of many things to come, and just like Ingrida once said, they had finally found their way home after decades of straying from their fate.

It was what the Nornir planned all along, and the one thing Varin always wished for his son -- the one thing he could never achieve.

Freedom.

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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ufuckingpastry · 3 years

Text

These Bonds We Keep

AO3 Link (this fic is very long btw)

This fic is based on the characters in the DreamSMP, not the content creators. Any views expressed in this fic are not a reflection of the content creators in any shape or form.

Relationships: Dream/Technoblade - Kismesistude/Rival Shipping Technoblade/Philza - Moirallegiance/Platonic Relationship

This is a continuation of Where Gods and Monsters Meet, but it not necessary to read that to understand this fic.

@meepishme

CW: graphic depictions of violence, hallucinations, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt (based on game mechanics), self harm

Summary: I have all the time in the world to wait for you, Blood God. And, one way or another, you will become mine.

Technoblade could hear the triumph in the egg's voice. Like the slow, smug flicking tail, the egg felt victory against its opponent. Because he was trapped with it and he had nowhere to run. And yet… Technoblade smiled despite it all. And he could feel the egg's shock, faint and unnatural as it was. Because he knew this game. He knew what it took to be patient in the face of an unwavering enemy and still come out the victor. He knew what it would take. So, he settled in, grinning at the ghost of red before him, and breathed out. The red parted and he took solace in that, at least.

"If the mind is willing, the flesh could go on and on without many things," he recited quietly. "You underestimate me. And that will be your downfall."

The whooshing of the portal faded as Technoblade descended the steps towards the community house. Someone had recently built it back up, even nicer than it was before. But the holes in the dirt still belied what had turned it to rubble. He recalled Ranboo telling him and Phil, his hands twisting and tapping in uncomfortable motions, that he blew it up. Later, after Dream had been locked up, Phil mentioned that Dream had done it as they sat by the fire. They discussed why Ranboo might believe he had blown it up instead. That conversation left an uncomfortable sting of acid in Technoblade’s stomach. That kid didn’t deserve any problems thrown his way. He thought about when Ranboo gifted him a new netherite axe. “Rent” they called it. Payment for living on his property. But in recent weeks, Technoblade found that the kid was growing on him. They explored maps of distant places, arguing over golden apples. The last time they had gone into a woodland mansion, Technoblade found him backed up in a corner. Technoblade hadn’t remembered much after that, but he remembered Ranboo afraid, but steeling himself against an unwinnable fight. He jumped in alongside him and they cut down their foes together. As Technoblade passed through the community house and out the other side, he wondered if Ranboo was fixing the house up out of misplaced guilt. He pressed his lips together and made a note to talk to Ranboo about it soon. The kid was brave, but he was also real jumpy. Technoblade dutifully described his visit to Dream when he returned home a week ago. Ranboo seemed relieved that it was the same as Tommy's retelling, but it felt as though he was still hiding something from them. That might be Technoblade reading too much into it, but still… Caution was the thing that kept them safe. Phil always reminded them of that, especially when Technoblade got a little too bloodthirsty that he forgot himself. He made a note to remind Phil to be there when they talked with Ranboo. Phil was much better at reading social situations than he was.

Technoblade hiked the axe up on his shoulder as he walked, his thoughts straying from Ranboo as he scanned the area. He frowned, eyeing the vines. They grew more every time he came through. He cut away some of the vines that were in his way, though he never lingered around them too long. It was hard to tell in the fresh air like this, but something smelled off about them. The voices in his head seemed to agree. He tossed away the vine blocks at the voices’ request. As he walked further, he saw Ranboo delightedly hugging a grass block. Technoblade’s shoulders relaxed at the sight of a genuinely happy Ranboo. He stepped up close to the kid and waved.

“Techno!” Ranboo greeted. The nickname made him smile. He usually only let Phil or Dream call him that, but he wasn’t about to cut Ranboo short. If it made him happy to call him that, then who was Technoblade to stop him?

“Hey, Ranboo. What are you up to?” They caught up for a bit, walking around a few steps as Ranboo placed grass and picked more up. He found it nice to talk to him and he relaxed bit by bit. After a while, as the sun reached and passed its highest point, Ranboo made noises about having to go soon. Technoblade rested a hand on his shoulder. “Hold up. Phil’s making some stew tonight. He always makes too much, if you want to stop by. We’d be glad to have you.”

“Oh, uh, yeah! Sounds good!” Ranboo smiled and Technoblade felt his chest warm at the sight. He waved Ranboo off. He turned around and started for the Prime Path, but paused. Bad was standing on some of the vines, the ones he had chopped up, watching them. The vines glowed gently and grew just under Bad’s feet, completing the chain again. Technoblade’s smile faded as his gaze flicked back up to Bad. His hood was white, which… Wasn’t it red? Technoblade adjusted the axe on his shoulder. Bad started walking towards him. The voices in his head rose to a steady thrum, conflicting as always, but this time it set him on edge. He rolled his shoulders as he watched Bad’s approach.

“Good afternoon, Technoblade,” Bad greeted warmly. Technoblade raised a few fingers in response, but remained otherwise silent. His gaze did catch on movement in the distance behind Bad. Antfrost was also approaching now, making a beeline for their small group. Technoblade’s silent response didn’t seem to deter Bad. “Lovely day out, isn’t it?”

“There something you want, Bad?” Technoblade asked. He didn’t really want to be sociable more than he had to at any given point. He had already spent long enough here and he had things he wanted to finish before he went back home for dinner. But Bad seemed like he genuinely wanted something from him. At his question, Bad’s face brightened.

“Well, yes, actually. What do you know about the egg, Technoblade?”

---

The first thing Technoblade noticed when they entered the cave was the smell. The cave smelled of blood. Putrid, poisoned, diseased. It was a sickness that made his stomach roil. He swallowed bile as he looked upon the egg, stepping carefully over pits of lava and magma as he followed Bad. The voices, usually a cacophony of conflicting desires, now grew in a chorus of one word: RUN. He eyed the egg, used to ignoring the voices. The vines were annoying, but to be here, in the presence of the thing causing their growth, he genuinely felt unsettled. He glanced at Bad, at Antfrost. Their faces, drawn toward the egg, were ones of devotion.

“So,” he started, breaking the silence. “I take it this is the egg?”

“Yes!” Bad clapped his hands together and grinned brightly at Technoblade. “It offers people what they desire, be it power or strength. Anything.”

“Power?” Technoblade asked with a considering tilt of his head. “The power to lead nations? Like a government?”

“No, no, no, not like that. We,” Bad gestured to himself and Antfrost. “We don’t want more governments. All they’ve done is cause war and destruction. The egg doesn’t want governments.”

“You literally have a bunch of signs that say ‘Join the Eggpire’,” Technoblade pointed out. Bad’s expression tightened, as if frustrated. But it vanished and he smiled brightly again. He dismissed Technoblade's point with a wave of his hand.

“That’s just some catchy phrasing. The egg doesn’t want governments.”

“Uh-huh. Then what does it want?”

“Well,” Bad and Antfrost glanced at each other, their smiles growing. They turned back to him simultaneously “Why don’t you listen?”

“Listen?”

“Yes! The egg speaks to all those who will hear it. Listen so that you might hear what it wants.”

Technoblade pressed his lips together, unconvinced. But Bad looked so excited by this idea, so on board with the literal everything going on, that Technoblade decided to humor him at least. He sighed and closed his eyes, focusing on the voices. He brushed past their yelling, down deeper, down to voices he couldn’t hear as well. And, he realized, there was one. It was a small voice, quiet, barely above a whisper. But now given attention, it grew to something recognizable.

Blade. I know you for what you are. God of Blood, God of Vengeance, God that has been Betrayed and Used. Know that I can grant you the power you seek, the power to keep you, make you whole again.

Technoblade stilled, opening his eyes. His gaze focused on the pulsing red of the egg, trying to ground himself even before he realized what was happening. He blinked, red winding its way across his vision. It coiled into images that shifted into shape before him. He saw L’Manberg, burned and blasted, the hole ever expanding. He saw the vines taking root, filling the pit like blood spilled. Overflowing, he saw it, as the voice whispered ever on, slowly overtaking the other voices.

Blood for the Blood God. Nourish me of their flesh and I will return their blood to you tenfold. Blood for the Blood God!

He saw bodies strewn about before him. Thousands, millions, tens. Ever changing, ever flowing, ever beating with his heart. Each one torn apart. Ribcages steaming in the sun, skulls shattered with gray matter strewn across the way, bodies broken, twisted, ruined. Bleeding without a care, without purpose. He saw himself step through them, inside and outside his form all at once. The blood drenched his hands, his clothes, his crown, dripping in vines of freshly spilled blood. He saw himself stop, drop down, and nudge a head up to the sun. Tommy’s eyes, blank, cold, and dead stared past him, horror and betrayal plain in his last moments. As he looked up, he saw them. He saw them all. Their names passing by, their faces turning toward him, their eyes on him as they bled out. Bled out for him. Niki, Punz, Ranboo, Tommy, Tubbo, Jack, Puffy, Sam… He lifted his gaze and saw two bodies strung out for him, their bodies opened and spilling out blood and entrails, and he saw their faces plain as day. Horror, pure terror flooded his system at the sight of these bodies. These bodies, the bodies of those he most cared for, of those he would stop at nothing to fix the suffering they experienced, or aid what he could not fix. Those he felt tied to and those he would be tied to the end of days. Phil's body, wings broken and ruined. Dream's body, gutted and empty. He could hear the egg singing worship at the scene, calling it sacrament… The implication that he… that he had done this…

Technoblade stumbled back from the egg, eyes wild and teeth bared. His breaths came in pants, his axe in his hand. He saw movement next to him. He lurched towards it, aiming to strike, aiming to maim, to kill!

Bleed them! Bleed them for me!

Technoblade stumbled at the voice, the red in his vision vanishing. Bad and Antfrost stared at him, their own weapons at the ready, their eyes wide. Technoblade realized himself and he forced his breath to slow. Once he felt calm, calmer, he hooked his axe on his back once more. He shook his head in an attempt to rid the egg’s voice from his head. He had to get out. He had to leave, leave, leave, RUN! Technoblade took a step back from them, from the egg. His ears twitched back, flat against his head to block out the voice even though he knew it would do nothing. He took another step back, nearly stumbling over the magma block behind him.

“No, nope. No, not today. Not this. Nope.” He looked up at the egg, its disease burning his lungs, and turned on his heel. He heard Bad call out and he heard him running after him, words stumbling on his tongue to slow down. Halfway across the room, the exit in sight, Bad grabbed his cloak. Technoblade turned so fast Bad flinched back, releasing the cloak to reach for a weapon. Technoblade’s eyes burned with rage and it was with a snarl he silenced both the egg and Bad’s protests. “I will destroy this place,” he growled, his voice trembling in his rage. “I will. Destroy this place. I will destroy the egg. I will fill this room with TNT and I will burn this place to ash! To bedrock! What I did to L’Manberg, I will do to this place a thousand times over!” Technoblade straightened and looked down upon them, a wrathful god barely held in check. “And I would suggest you stand aside before I burn you too.”

Bad pressed his lips together, thinking fast. Technoblade could almost hear the gears turning in his head. He held his hands out in a staying gesture, a rare sign of surrender. Technoblade did not trust him, nor the words that would soon spill from his mouth.

“I feel like there are some misunderstandings here. How about this? We go and talk. Away from the egg. Above ground. Before we do anything too rash, let’s talk.” Technoblade’s eyes narrowed. He knew a bad idea when he saw one. But his position would not change. And if Bad wanted to try to talk, to placate him… He would let him try, if only to see him tremble beneath his failure. Technoblade unhooked his axe and gestured for him to lead the way.

Bad led them above ground, led them to a suspiciously egg-shaped building. Technoblade stopped outside the building, eyeing the blood vines growing over the structure. He tilted his head, listening. The egg’s voice still haunted him, but it grew faint. He assumed it wouldn’t leave completely until he went back home.

He hoped.

“Before we go in,” Bad started, hands in front of him. “I would like to talk without the threat of weapons and armor.”

“No.”

“Here, as a show of good faith.” Bad started to remove his armor, then glanced at Antfrost and gestured sharply with his head. Antfrost followed suit, though his limbs seemed to shake more in front of the still very armed Technoblade. Bad put his items into the chest at the door and gestured for Technoblade to do the same.

“You must think I’m some kind of idiot. I threatened you with decimation and you say you simply want to talk. And now you’re asking me to remove my gear in the name of good faith?” Technoblade snarled at him. Bad smiled, bright eyes and a challenge in his voice.

“Are you cowing away from us, Technoblade? We are unarmed and you still consider us to be a threat? A snake without venom is no more a threat than a gust of wind.”

“Venom is ultimately a defense. You are a virus, an attacker. A disease that must be burned clean.”

“Take off your armor, Technoblade. And let us talk.”

Technoblade considered him. He didn’t know Bad well, had never taken the time to get to know him. With this egg business, he didn’t want to take the time. He adjusted the axe over his shoulder, making decisions and plans. He should have messaged Phil. He’ll be late for dinner.

“Let me search you, and I might consider leaving behind my weapons.” Technoblade said, letting his axe drop off his shoulder. Bad’s expression was tight, the fingers stilled. Then he opened them and lifted his arms.

“Alright. I can promise you I have no tricks up my sleeve.”

Technoblade grunted, not convinced, and searched him. He found nothing on Bad: nothing to harm, nothing to heal, nothing to poison. Just… nothing. Technoblade stepped back and gestured Antfrost over so he could search him as well. Antfrost’s inventory was much the same, though…

“Bruh,” Technoblade said, holding up the maid outfit. Bad had his head in his hands, muttering quietly to himself as Antfrost bounced on his heels nervously. “You know what… I don’t want to know.” He gave Antfrost the maid outfit back, feeling… settled was the wrong word. But it seemed Bad had not lied. Technoblade still did not trust him, but perhaps… He had thorns on his armor and they would not be fast enough to equip in time if they decided to attack him. He preferred an axe or a sword in his hands, but he had enough experience in hand-to-hand combat that he didn’t think the lack of one would be a problem.

“Alright. No weapons.” He removed his weapons, his tools too, in a show of “good faith”. When Antfrost went to pick them up, he growled a warning. Antfrost jumped back quickly, his fear scent keeping Techno from relaxing all the way. “So,” he said, turning to Bad. “You wanted to talk?”

“Yes, inside.” Bad lead them into the building and Technoblade took a second just inside the door to scan his surroundings. There wasn’t much to the building. The most notable features were a chest and an obsidian table. It briefly reminded him of the table Phil and him found in the stronghold. His was better than this obsidian mess. His table was unbreakable. Technoblade took a spot closest to the door, not sitting, his muscles tense to run back for his weapons at the first sign of trouble. Antfrost waited at the side, watching. For the first time, Technoblade noticed his eyes were red. Strange. Bad was gesturing again and Technoblade's gaze snapped sharply at the movement. Unperturbed, Bad continued with his talk.

"All the things that have happened to us has been because of governments and the people who blindly follow them, looking for a leader. What we offer, what the egg offers is stable ground in a chaotic world. It offers power to those who seek it and guides them in ways if they are struggling to find it. The egg does not want government. It wants land that will nourish it and, in return, it will nourish those who protect it. Technoblade, for every battle you have fought here, for every person who has recruited you, they have seen you not as a person, but as ‘The Blade’. They have seen you as a weapon to be used and abandoned once your purpose is fulfilled. But we are not them. We see you as a person, Technoblade. We see what you can become when you are treated as one.

“What we want, what the egg wants, is for you to be its defender. The egg has many enemies. Enemies who would strike it down without further thought. You are here, even though you threatened to become one of those enemies. You are here of your own accord and that is all we are asking for.”

Technoblade listened to Bad speak and he found… If Bad had started with this, if he had waited to show him the egg, then his decision might have been different. Bad’s words were moving and they pulled at him. They were true. Very few people here had treated him as a person. And those who did, he held onto tight and fast, unable to allow them to stray too far lest they disappear into the wind like ghosts. If Bad had started with this…

But he hadn’t. And Technoblade’s decision was not going to change.

He tilted his head and lifted his lip up in a snarl. “What sort of fool do you think I am, Bad? The egg simply wants me to be its defender? Bullshit. Do you even know what the egg promised me?” Technoblade asked. Bad’s expression didn’t change, though there was a brightness in his eyes that Technoblade did not like. He stepped up onto the table, forcing Bad to look up at him. “You talk about the loyalty people have shown me and how little it mattered to them. And yet, you think the egg shows unfailing loyalty to you? For your blood, for your flesh, it promised me power. It switches sides for whoever it decides will serve it best.” He stopped in the center of the table, growling now. “Even if no one else does in this miserable place, I will stand by my word. I will destroy that thing. I will blow that room up, deeper than the pit that was L’Manberg, wider than the stars reach across the sky! And I will burn you too if you stand in my way.”

Bad’s expression twitched, but it was still that unreadable smile. Technoblade could taste Antfrost’s fear and feel his quivering breath. He was afraid, but Bad…

“I’m sorry to hear that, Technoblade. And I’m sorry you feel that way.” As Bad spoke, he shifted to the side. Everything in Technoblade went cold as the home Phil waited in for him. There was a button behind his back, one hidden throughout their whole conversation. “But I can’t let you do that.”

Bad slammed his fist back on the button. Technoblade lurched forward, but it was a second too late. The ground fell away beneath his feet and he threw out a hand. Hooved hands caught on the cracks in the obsidian table, his body dangling above a pit. The egg’s voice surged up to meet him at the same time Bad’s foot stomped on his fingers. Technoblade cried out as pain shattered down his arm. He glared up at Bad from his place beneath him.

“I think you need to spend some more time with the egg, Technoblade. At least, until you start to see things our way.”

“I’LL REND YOUR FLESH FROM BONE, BAD!”

“Oh, shut up, why don’t you?” Bad smashed Technoblade’s fingers beneath his foot, then kicked him away. Technoblade fell into the pit, landing with a sickening CRACK! Technoblade’s vision went black for a moment as he dropped to the floor. He was not dead, but almost. Fuck. He felt over his leg, tearing off armor to get at the bone sticking out of his leg. Fuck. Technoblade tore a piece of cloth from his shirt, stuffed it between his teeth, and worked on snapping the bone back in place. This was not the first time and he knew how to do it so it wouldn’t heal wrong. The pain was still the same, almost enough to make him black out. At first, he thought he did, with how dark the pit went. A look up revealed that they had close the table up again. He could just barely hear Bad and Antfrost’s voices talking together. He was too far down and…

Technoblade took stock of his surroundings, horror drilling him deep to his bones. He was above the egg. Directly. Above. Trapped in obsidian and no tools to save him. And the voice, that damned voice, was whispering again. Welcoming him back home. It embraced him like an old friend. When he threw himself back from it, only the cold obsidian caught him. Its voice crept like fingers over the back of his neck, gentle caresses along his ears, playing with him, toying with him. Like a cat who's cornered a mouse and batting it along because it thinks it's funny. He snarled at it, bared his tusks and teeth. If he was a mouse, the least he could do was to blind that son of a bitch. And the voice

The voice parted. It parted like soil beneath a hoe. But unlike soil, it flowed back into the space he made between them. He could almost see it. See it like red in his vision, blood in the water, like Phil's tea as it steeped. Idly mixing with the air around him, only growing violent when agitated. Technoblade realized with dawning horror that the egg was no longer digging its claws into him, unrelenting in its attack lest he escape and flee. No… now he had no escape, nowhere to turn and run. He was trapped. And the egg knew. It knew and it had changed behavior.

I have all the time in the world to wait for you, Blood God. And, one way or another, you will become mine.

He could hear the triumph in its voice. Like the slow, smug flicking tail, the egg felt victory against its opponent. Because he was trapped with it and he had nowhere to run. And yet… Technoblade smiled despite it all. Despite the lingering pain from his fall, despite the scent of blood filling his nose, despite the darkness and the heat, he smiled. And he could feel the egg's shock, faint and unnatural as it was. Because he knew this game. He knew what it took to be patient in the face of an unwavering enemy and still come out the victor. He knew what it would take. So, he settled in, grinning at the ghost of red before him, and breathed out. The red parted and he took solace in that, at least.

"If the mind is willing, the flesh could go on and on without many things," he recited quietly. "You underestimate me. And that will be your downfall."

And so, the war with the egg began. It was a mental war, a test of wills, and it was one of the most grueling wars he had faced. The egg sometimes grew malicious, striking at the heart of him. He witnessed visions of his friends suffering, the people he knew hurting in ways almost unimaginable. Sometimes the egg offered him the power to fix this suffering and sometimes it offered the power to cause it instead. Sometimes, he would wake bathed in blood and gore, knowing intimately who it had come from. Sometimes, he would wake wrapped in vines, never knowing where he ended and the egg began. And sometimes, he would wake and he would see Phil, reaching for him. And, in the weak times, he would reach out and Phil would fade like smoke around his fingertips.

Sometimes, the egg would leave him alone. He knew it was gathering strength. He knew it was feeding from the ground, from the creatures that got too close. He didn’t know when it happened, but one day he felt immense pain and he lashed out. His fingers caught on the obsidian and he realized, in panting breaths, that he could feel when someone cut the vines. He hugged himself, breath shaking, and the voice returned.

It hurts, doesn’t it? When they hurt us, we can feel it. When they feed us, we no longer hunger. We can survive upon the ground, but we hunger, don’t we? Blood God of mine, we hunger.

“I am not yours,” Technoblade hissed. “I will never be yours.” The voice faded into laughter and Technoblade saw nothing but visions of death and blood again.

He could not keep track of time down in the cave. He did not know how long he sat, how long he waited. He knew at one point he woke and his armor was gone. He had nothing to protect himself, besides the cloak that he hugged around himself. His stomach twisted in pain. He ran out of food long ago. Water was scarce too, and the heat felt close to that of the nether. He was so thirsty… He opened his eyes and saw the ghost of blood again. It never had a face and its body wavered like smoke. But this time, it lifted its arm. Technoblade, weary from the fight, didn’t realize his body was following suit.

Drink up, my friend. God of Blood, mine. Drink and be nourished.

Technoblade’s mouth watered and he bit down. Flesh gave way under his teeth and liquid flowed onto his tongue. He lapped it up like a dying man in the desert. He could not taste it, as far gone into his head as he was. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw golden streams dripping down. And he felt, suddenly, something dripping down his skin. His flesh burned, faintly, and he wondered why. Why did he hurt, even as he drank?

He watched idly as the golden liquid splashed down at his feet and onto the egg. The ghost shivered into light, keening in joy. His ears flattened and he flinched back from the deafening crash. There was a feeling of tearing and Technoblade winced. His fog cleared and found he felt pain, intense pain, and he

Technoblade released his arm in horror, staring down at the wound. The wound burned, his golden blood dripping down the length of his arm, down the corners of his mouth, down to the egg where it rejoiced at the offering. He snarled and ripped off his shirt to wrap it around his arm. Slow the bleeding, cover it and protect it from infection. His gazed snapped back up to the red ghost, but it dissipated before he could growl. He hugged himself and slumped down. He could feel himself fading again. The egg was a powerful influence in his head, easily overtaking the other voices. Even those faded into almost nothing now as the egg left him alone. It was strange to not hear them, to not hear their faint buzzing. But what use would they be to him?

He could not run. He could not escape. He would die down here. Die or belong to the egg. He lifted a shaking hand to his cheek and felt over the lines in his flesh. The corruption was already taking root, breaking through his skin. Vines twisted around his heart, around his lungs, until every moment, every breath, was controlled by the egg. His hand stilled and

He considered it. Technoblade considered his death. He had escaped it hundreds of times. Technoblade never dies! But here… maybe. His hand twitched and he glanced down at it, considering. If he died here… he would wake up in his bed. Back home. He would wake up to the light spilling in through his window, to the sounds of Phil and Steve below. Steve's soft growls as he tried to eat whatever breakfast Phil was preparing. Maybe Ranboo would stop by too, dance around the polar bear as he eagerly showed a new map. And they could go together, shove playfully into each other as they searched for new adventures. Phil would stay home, watch the stasis chamber for when they wanted to come back. And he would be down a life, but maybe… if it meant the ghosts he saw were nothing more than ghosts and not proof of his losing battle…

Technoblade tested it, pressed his fingers into the wound on his arm. It would be easy to find a vein to rip--

NO!

Technoblade jerked back, the feeling of hands on his skull, hands on his arms and fingers, stilling him, freezing him in place with the strength of the egg's will. He stared, wide eyed, into the burning pits of the red ghost.

You are MINE and I will not have you escaping!

And Technoblade

Technoblade filed that reaction away, in the depths of his mind where the vines could not reach, for later. The egg didn’t want him to die, to escape. It wanted him near, to finish corrupting him. He was weary from the fight and he was losing. The egg knew this too. It hummed with victory. It burned bright with sickening delight. He could hear it chanting, singing praises that they would wipe clean this world until all that left was blood. Blood for the true blood god. And he knew that it would make him its puppet. He was already bound in its vines. But…

If he could escape…

There was no totem of undying in his hands this time. But if it feared his death… If it feared him escaping through death, then perhaps…

Perhaps, he still had hope left.

The next time he woke, Technoblade heard voices. With how faint they were, he assumed it was simply the familiar buzzing coming back to poke and prod, see if he was still alive. But they came closer, armored footsteps clacking against stone and muffled as they stepped on and around the vines. So not another hallucination either. His eyes were kept closed, but he tilted his head to listen, to pinpoint their location. The voices quieted as they climbed up next to the egg. Then, one of them spoke again, directed at his cage.

“Hello Technoblade,” Bad greeted. Technoblade could hear the smile in his voice. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Technoblade inhaled through his nose, eyes still closed. He didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to be reminded of the one who trapped him here in the first place. He heard Bad equip something and tap the metal bit against the obsidian walls. A pickaxe, based on how the sound echoed.

“How do you feel about the egg, Technoblade?” When he didn’t answer, Bad slammed the pickaxe against the wall. “Answer! Or we’ll leave you here again.”

Technoblade huffed a laugh. He lifted his head up towards Bad, his eyes opening. He peered through the holes in the obsidian, staring at Bad’s face. He wanted an answer, huh? Then he’d give him one.

“Heed,” Technoblade said, his voice hoarse from disuse. His hand reached for the obsidian he’d broken from his earlier attempts at escape, closing around the sharpened point. Bad’s face contorted in confusion and Technoblade pressed on. “Heed, ye mortals. Heed the words of your prophets, lest they be true. Ye people, fearful of death and stillness, heed!” Technoblade stood as he spoke, eyes bright and wild. The words were an old speech he and Philza made together. Old friends aiming to strike fear and wonder in their enemies. “Your end beckons! The Angel of Death comes, his sword sharpened and called to your blood! His wings glow bright and his mercy has faded. Woe to thee, ye peoples laid low by sin and hate! Repent before him, and your deaths will be swift.” Technoblade stepped back, his hands raising before him, his golden blood dried and stained down the one arm. He revealed the obsidian blade, turning it towards his neck. Bad’s eyes widened in growing realization and Technoblade grinned at him. “I will soon rest my head in holy arms and he will rain fire upon you! HEED! FOR THIS IS YOUR END!” His movement swift, he aimed the blade straight for his neck. Bad lurched forward, a cry on his lips, but it was too late-!

NO!

The blade dropped from Technoblade’s hand and he slapped his hands over his ears. The egg shrieked, louder than anything, louder than explosions and withers, and he dropped to his knees. Its rage and fear shattered through him and his voice joined the cacophony in his head. His scream tore through his throat until he tasted blood.

Bad and Antfrost flinched back from the force of the egg’s shriek. Bad risked a glance back through the obsidian and saw Technoblade screaming with his hands over his ears. Bad’s breath came quick and he squeezed his hand around his pickaxe. They had to stop him, they… Someone would hear. Someone would hear! Bad cut away the obsidian and grabbed Technoblade by the cloak. He hauled backwards, dragging Technoblade’s body out of the cage. At the movement, Technoblade jumped up and aimed fingers curled like claws at Bad’s face. Bad reared back and dropped him. He crumpled to the floor of the cave. Even now, even with blood on his hands from where his flesh cut on the blade, even after three days in isolation, he looked like a wild beast. He snarled like one, struggling to stand to his feet. Bad pointed the pickaxe at Technoblade.

“Why won’t you stop! The egg has you! We’ve won!” Bad shouted.

“Won?” Technoblade laughed. Something sounded like it was bubbling out of him and Bad watched blood drip down from his lips. He coughed and laughed and coughed and laughed and then launched at Bad. He tackled him to the floor, knocked the breath out of him. Bad felt heat near his face as Technoblade forced him closer to a pit of lava. Suddenly, the weight lifted off of him. Bad sat up, coughing air back into his lungs. Antfrost had grabbed Technoblade and dragged him back. Like a beast, the piglin turned back on him, snarling as he aimed his tusks for Ant’s face. He blocked him with his shield, shoved him off. Unarmored and lacking weapons, Technoblade was still dangerous. He looked insane, the corruption evident on his face, but he still looked whole.

Bad heard a growing cacophony as the egg hissed and chanted. He missed some of the words, but it sounded like… It sounded like the egg was urging Technoblade on, urging him to kill Antfrost. Bad’s head snapped towards the egg, betrayal spiking through him like the prongs of a trident. He saw his plans unraveling before him. He couldn’t think here, not while his friend was in danger, not with the egg’s voice deafening them all with its desires pouring forth. Someone could still hear them! They could come down and stop them!

Bad jumped to his feet and ran to a chest. He dug through it, risking a glance back at Antfrost when he cried out. Technoblade had clawed his face, the blood dripping down his cheek. Ant swung his sword at Technoblade’s head and Bad called out in time to the egg.

“No! We need him!”

Technoblade ducked, but just barely. His reflexes were slower, his movements jerking even as he fought back. He had to be close to death! Bad couldn’t let him die! Not here! He turned back to the chest, digging through its contents until his hands closed around his prize. Bad spun on his heel and threw the potion of slowness at Technoblade, then leapt towards him with the rope. Technoblade tried to react, tried to claw him too. Bad dodged the blow, then caught him with a punch to the chin. Technoblade stumbled back, doubling over. Taking his chance, Bad looped the rope around Technoblade’s throat, a noose, and hauled back on the rope. Antfrost threw his body against him and pinned him to the ground. Bad pulled a muzzle out of his inventory and secured it around Technoblade’s snarling mouth. Technoblade coughed and choked and Bad loosened the rope just enough to let him breathe.

“What,” Antfrost panted, glancing up at Bad. “What are we going to do now?”

Bad licked his lips, panting in time as he glared back at Technoblade. There weren’t too many people around tonight. They hadn’t seen anyone hanging around. They had time. Not much, probably, but they had time!

“We’re taking him back to my place. We’ll force him to change his respawn point. And then we’ll make sure he loves the egg.”

---

Philza heard the polar bears shuffling outside and a shocked little “Oh!”. Footsteps up the stairs, then a shifting of weight, then a tentative knock. He sighed, touched the sword at his side to remind him it was there, and opened the door.

“Puffy?”

“Oh! Phil! Do… do you live here?” Puffy asked, quickly glancing over her shoulder. She was decked out in full netherite. Worry and determination dripped off her like rain on feathers.

“Yes.” Philza let her in. It was cold this afternoon, even colder without Technoblade around. “Puffy, how did you find this place?”

“Oh, well, Tommy mentioned when I asked.”

Of course, he did, Philza thought with an annoyed huff. He gestured for her to sit, but she didn’t take the opportunity. “Are you… okay?” He asked, slowly turning towards her as he grabbed his mug of tea. It was peppermint, to soothe the nerves. It was Techno's favorite.

“No, not really.” The honesty was strange to hear, not because he assumed to hear a lie, but because Philza had grown used to trying to decipher Techno’s tone when he was trying to be sincere, or when he was hiding things. Puffy was still talking so Philza turned his attention back to her. “Bad tried to take me out and I was looking for Technoblade because I wanted his help.”

“His help?”

“Phil, what do you know about the egg?”

“The thing that’s causing all the red vines to grow? What about it?”

Philza listened to Puffy and her story. He listened to how they found the egg in the pit of L’Manberg, their decisions on what to do with it, and the effects it was having on people. The more she talked, the more his horror grew. His wings puffed out with his growing dread.

“Sam had only been in there for a few hours and it made him start eating his own flesh! It has to go, but I don’t know who I can trust anymore. I wanted to talk to Technoblade and see if we can’t do something about it ourselves. Have you seen him recently?”

“No, I… I haven’t. He’s been gone for three days and I’m starting to get worried. No message, no warning, nothing.”

Puffy opened her mouth when the doors slammed open. Puffy jolted up, sword already drawn, and swinging to face the attacker. Ranboo jumped back with a chirp, hands up in the air.

“Sorry, uh, I tried to open it and the wind caught it.” Ranboo glanced at Puffy, then at Philza, who was busying himself with his cup of tea. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No, you can come in,” Philza said before Puffy could say anything. “He lives nearby and I invited him to dinner,” he said as explanation. Puffy slowly sat back down, her weapon sheathed. A thought came to him and he turned to Ranboo. “Ranboo, have you seen Techno? He was passing by L’Manberg the last time we spoke.”

“Oh!” He opened up one of his memory books and flipped through the pages. “Yeah, I saw him over there. Uh, three days ago?”

That matched up with the timeline, but…

“No sooner?”

“Nope.”

Philza frowned, his fingers tapping on the table as he thought. He had tried messaging him the other day, worry eating at his edges when Techno didn't come home for dinner. But all he received was static. That happened sometimes, when Techno was too far away, but he couldn't have made it that far in a day, even if he used the nether portals. Sometimes they’d get interference, but that was too hard to track. Something was up and Philza was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Did something happen to him?" Ranboo asked, standing far from Puffy.

"We don't know for sure yet. But this is strange behavior, even from him." Philza tipped back the rest of his tea and pushed up from the table. He rummaged through the chests, equipping his gear in silence. When he turned back, he rested his hand on his sword to remind him it was there. "Let's go find out."

Philza led them through the nether portal, striding across the cobblestone path with purpose. Puffy followed him, her stride matching his, while Ranboo took up the rear. They weren't in the nether for long when Ranboo made a familiar chirp of Ender. Philza stopped and turned towards him, quirking up his eyebrow as he waited to hear what Ranboo remembered.

"I saw Techno, Bad, and Antfrost go into that weird egg building too. You know the one?"

Philza did not, but by the way Puffy stiffened, she did. That kind of reaction did not bode well.

"Technoblade went in there? With Bad?" She asked, growing panic seeping into her voice. At Ranboo's nod, she swore. "That's the place they trapped Sam in! We have to get to him!"

Philza felt something sharp twist in his chest. That was the place? Where Sam had been trapped and made to eat his own flesh? Philza's mind was racing now with the implications. Sam had only been there for a few hours, but if the worst had truly come to past and Techno had been down there for three days…

They had to hurry. But something kept him there, still and indecisive. He glanced at Ranboo and felt that same sharp twisting in his chest. The kid was shaking, minutely, but shaking. Philza remembered just a few days ago, when Ranboo was fixing up his house, he admitted some of his fears. He didn't want to get dragged into more stuff. Not after everything that happened. The quiet in the snowy biome was good and safe. He looked so relaxed and happy. He did not look that way now, not with the way he was inching towards the portal to run. Philza was determined to protect him from suffering any more than he already had. The decision was made even before he finished thinking it, as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Ranboo, go back to the house." Puffy cried out in protest, but he overruled her. "We might be wrong. Go back to the house and message me the second you see Techno, if he comes home before us." Ranboo straightened and hurried back through the portal. Puffy watched him go with a mix of frustration and confusion clear on her face.

"Do you really think that--"

"No," Philza replied immediately, not caring that he had interrupted her. "But that kid doesn't need to be dragged into any more shit."

Puffy looked back at the portal and nodded, finally. Philza started back down the path, but when he didn't hear her follow, he turned back. She raised up a hand to shush whatever he was about to say, tilting her head in that way that meant she was messaging someone.

"Hey, Sam?"

Dream watched Sam set down the bowl of soup on the netherite wall between them, eyeing it hungrily. Sam opened his mouth to say something, but crackling filled the space between them and the words were lost forever.

"Puffy?"

Dream hummed, inching towards the wall impatiently. He watched him intently as he had a conversation right in front of his dinner. He wasn't allowed to grab it before Sam stepped back, in case he tried to do something rash.

"Technoblade? No, I have not seen him since he visited the prison last week. Why?"

At the mention of his partner, Dream blinked and stepped closer, analyzing Sam's face as he frowned. Sam shook his head, taking a step back. Panic was winding tight around him and it set off old alerts in Dream’s brain.

"With Bad? No, no, that's not- nothing good will come of that."

"Sam, what's going on?" Dream asked. The mention of Bad was… it made his heart twist sharply. He missed him, but why was Technoblade with Bad? Sam didn’t respond to him, instead shaking his head slowly.

“Puffy, I would come and help, but…” He glanced at Dream. Dream knew the look of someone considering decisions and watched Sam make up his mind. He turned away from Dream, stepped back, and crossed the lava pit. The netherite wall didn't lower, not even as Sam deliberately walked to the levers. Before the lava came down, he heard Sam's voice echo through the prison.

"INITIATE CODE 7 LOCKDOWN." Dream blinked, pressed close to the wall. Lockdown? Total lockdown? What the hell was happening? And why did it involve Technoblade?

And it was in that moment, as the lava dripped down, that he heard screaming.

Dream went still. Sam wouldn’t hear it, couldn’t hear it. But Dream could. He could hear Techno screaming. Technoblade could shout, growl, snarl, but Dream rarely heard him scream. He closed his eyes, pinpointing the location. Deep underground, nearby. The sound echoed; he was in a cave. But… Where! His jaws dropped in, a growl starting low in his chest. That was a scream of pain. It was not a sound he had ever heard from Techno and to hear it come from his mouth sent Dream’s body transforming before he could slow it. He ripped off the mask, let it clatter to the side. His clothes went next; they never survived the transformation. A wild glance at the netherite wall made him pause for only a second. Then he grabbed the clock and brought it close to his chest. Breaking the wall first would take too long and he would need the netherite next. But the lockdown meant it would not go back down until Sam decided it could. And he needed to get out. He felt his flesh change slowly. It was too slow, far too slow. He could no longer hear Technoblade screaming and he did not know whether he preferred it that way. He willed his flesh to change to gold. It would be better, easier to slip over the wall if he was already malleable. Finally, finally, it was enough. He tossed aside the clock, heard it shatter against the obsidian as he squeezed over the wall. Pain shot through his system like fractures as a rib broke under the pressure. It didn’t matter. It didn’t MATTER!

Dream gave himself a moment to breathe through the pain once he was on the other side. Belatedly, he realized his soup was splattered across the floor. It didn’t matter. He pressed his back to the netherite wall, willing his flesh to change again. Netherite was harder, but at least he was already gold. That helped. That helped. When he was fully netherite, he glared at the lava, panting. His body had finished the transformation and he felt old and new at once. It had been far too long since he took this form. It had been far too long. Already, he could feel himself slipping. Slipping away from Dream, the mastermind of this realm. Away from Dream the prisoner, away from the name he had given himself in an attempt to hide the worst of him. To hide the nightmare he was.

He pounced into the lava, the heat immediate. But netherite did not burn. Netherite would protect him until he got to where he knew he could break out. He knew the plans for this prison, he had helped Sam design it. He knew where weaknesses lied and where he could push through, even weakened as he was. He swam up to the ceiling, hooked his claws in between the cracks, and began digging.

---

Technoblade stumbled forward, his vision swimming. Antfrost pushed him forward again with the tips of his trident. He glared behind him, growling still. They had dragged him up from the cave to the surface. They were taking him to Bad’s house. To force him to respawn there should he die. His attempt to escape worked, but only just. He was out, away from the egg, but he was restrained. The muzzle around his mouth was secured tightly, the noose around his neck choking him every time his steps trailed. He felt so weak from his time with the egg. His broken leg felt wrong, given little time to heal before he was back on it. Another push from Antfrost sent him crumpling to the ground.

“Get up,” Bad said from above him. Technoblade didn’t feel like he had the strength to. When he didn’t move, Bad’s foot kicked into his side. “I said, get. Up.” From his place on the ground, Technoblade started laughing.

“What if I don’t?” he asked past the muzzle, turning onto his side to breathe. “Are you going to kill me?”

“You know I can’t do that. Not before I know where you’ll spawn.”

“And what’s your plan after? Give me to the egg? Even when I come back I won’t love the egg! You and it can rot with me!”

Bad growled. He dragged him up by the cloak and shoved him forward again. Technoblade stumbled a few more steps before turning around.

“Your plans failed!” Technoblade shouted in crazed delight. He twisted even as the noose went tighter. He dug his hands under the muzzle and, with the last of his strength, he ripped it off. “They have failed and they will fail over and over again! They—” The three of them froze as a dark shape passed over them What the hell? Technoblade lifted his head, eyes widening when he found the shape. He saw it high above them as it hovered, the poison green of its eyes just barely visible. His grin widened and he turned to Bad. With a voice hoarse from screaming, he hissed, “Repent, mortals.”

And then the shape crashed in between them.

---

Finally, finally! Netherite claws burst through obsidian. Dream pulled his body free, the night air cold like ice as lava dripped from his skin. He exhaled a breath, hot steam rising through the chilled air. It was odd to not have the heavy presence of the obsidian surrounding him, feel it cold under his feet. He shook off the rest of the lava, stretching much like a cat as his tail flicked off the rest of it. Time for the last of his transformation, to see if he still could do it. Otherwise, he would have to scale down the wall and risk the warden hearing. Dream focused, rolling his shoulders, until a loud crack split the air like thunder. A wing opened up, heavy and dark like his flesh. Then, the other wing opened. It hurt, after spending so much time hiding them. He stretched them out and groaned low into the air. His mouth didn’t work right in this form, his mouth unable to speak more than a few words of the language of those around him. He remembered briefly how long it took him to learn the language, how much he struggled until he learned how to hide his jaws. He shook his head, refocusing on the task at hand.

Dream opened his mouth, tasting the air. He had to find his rival, his soulbleeder. Wind blew into his face, flowing down his body, and he breathed it in. All his senses lit up as he tasted the blood of his soulbleeder on the wind. His claws dug into the obsidian, a low growl rolling in his chest. He would ruin those who dared to hurt what was his. He leapt off the prison wall and took to the air. It felt like home, even after being grounded for so long. But he couldn’t reminisce. He had to find him. He had to.

The buildings below him looked familiar, but he disregarded them. A lurch of movement caught his eye as he passed over. He studied them briefly, eyes scanning the short shape that dove to the ground and the tall shape reaching for its sword. But neither of them was the one he searched for. He ignored them. Then, like a stain upon this world, Dream saw the demon among them; the wolf in sheep’s clothing. He pulled up, passed over them as he watched. A flash of red, a flash of tusks, and a muzzle ripped free. Dream’s vision tunneled to the figure struggling to stand, but still fighting. His chest twisted, recognition folding his wings, and he dropped to the ground like a stone.

The crash of his impact was deafening. A memory flashed before his eyes: withers reigning terror upon the souls who thought themselves greater than they were and the TNT he dropped upon them for that mistake. This moment reminded him of then. He lifted his head and first looked at his soulbleeder. Techno blinked, recognition washing over his face. Dream rumbled fondly at him, a rare softness. Techno stepped forward, his mouth opening to speak. But he dropped. Dream checked him; he was breathing, just passed out from the effort and strain of his battle. A body stumbled back behind him and Dream swung his head around immediately. His lips lifted in a snarl as he positioned himself between Techno and those who wished to harm him.

The smaller one stumbled back in his fright, netherite sword falling out of his hands and into the dirt. The other, tall and demonic, his tail lashing, smelled… strange. Familiar. It made his chest ache and he didn't remember why. All he remembered was his soulbleeder, his rival. No one else. The demon tilted his head, staring down at the nightmare, paling as recognition hit. Dream's jaws opened, tasting his fear, dropping into a stance to pounce, to go for the throat, and hold until the body stopped thrashing.

"Dream?" came a voice and it halted Dream's motion. He blinked, snarl faded into silence. "Dream? Is… is that you?" Bad asked, voice trembling.

He blinked and

Dream blinked and breathed in deep, tasting the air. Bad, Bad, his friend. Close enough of a friend that he had once almost considered him starfated, if he had known what it meant. Dream's mouth closed and he stepped back from Bad, poison eyes watching him. He reached for Techno, his heart yearning and aching so much he wanted to lay down and whine. Speaking was hard, but he was not so far gone that he couldn't shift his mouth to speak.

"DON'T FOLLOW," Dream growled. With Techno firmly in his claws, Dream took to the sky once more. He did not look back as he flew him home.

Bad watched Dream fly away, his hopes flying away with him. He pressed the heels of his hands to his face and screamed his frustration. It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t FAIR! With a growl of his own, he picked up his trident. The first drops of rain fell on him. With a begging prayer to any god who wouldn’t forsake them, he dropped to a knee to shake Antfrost.

“Come on, you muffin head! We have to go!”

“You’re not going anywhere!” Bad spun on his heel at Puffy’s voice. The rain began to pour when his gaze landed on her, her sword and shield raised at the ready. “Where’s Techno?!” She shouted. Bad started to stand when he saw the figure behind her. His face paled and he took a step back. Technoblade’s warning came back to mind. Heed, and repent! Philza, the Angel of Death, stared down at him, hand on the hilt of his sword. His expression, cold and enraged, made Bad’s heart palpitate with fear. He took another step back, nearly stumbling over Antfrost. He risked a glance at him and urged him to stand. He was shaking as he took to his feet, looking ready to flee. A glance back at Philza told him why. The man had stepped forward, his sword now unsheathed. They couldn’t fight them, Bad knew that in the depths of his soul. Even alone, Philza stood leagues above them. Bad took another step back and Philza followed him. Bad’s breaths were coming fast, panting with his growing panic. He couldn’t die here. He couldn’t die now!

“Bad!” Puffy called. “Tell us what you did with-uh.” Her face contorted as if she was biting back her words. Philza turned his head to her, his expression softer and gentle. She stepped back, holding up a hand. “Sam?”

It was only then that Philza realized he could hear the crackling of the call. He waited patiently for her conversation to end, only half listening. Something moved out of the corner of his eye and he snapped his face back to Bad. Bad and Antfrost were backing up, though Bad was looking at Puffy with an intense expression that Philza did not recognize.

“Sam, uh, can you wait a minute? We-We’re kind of in the middle of-“ Puffy’s words trailed off as her face paled. “No…” she whispered, eyes drifting towards the prison.

“Puffy?” Philza started. More movement from Bad had him looking back at him. Bad had a feral look in his eyes, trident in hand.

“Don’t follow us!” He hissed before he and Antfrost flew away with the tridents. Philza growled, his wings spreading so he could gain speed and follow them.

“Phil, wait,” Puffy said, holding her hand out.

“They might have taken Techno somewhere, Puffy! We can’t just keep stalling like this!”

“No, Phil. Sam, he,” she paused, licking her lips as she hesitated.

“What is it?”

“It’s Dream. He’s gone.”

Philza felt the lightning before it came, felt the crack of thunder long before he heard it. Even that was silent compared to Puffy’s reveal.

“He… What?”

“Sam didn’t find him in his cell. The prison was in total lockdown so he could come help us and he still got out!”

Philza squeezed his hand around the hilt of his sword, indecision taking root again. If Dream was gone… Why now? Why now?! And where was Technoblade? He had been with Bad, but they just found Bad and he wasn’t here! Where???

“Phil?”

Philza closed his eyes and swallowed his hesitation. He straightened and leveled his gaze with Puffy. “Go see if you can help Sam. I’ll go find Bad. I’ll go find Techno.”

“Are you sure? What if they try to take you too?”

"I'd like to see them try," Philza said. His voice had dropped into a deep growl. He reached for his trident-

"Phil?" Ranboo's voice came crackling through the communicator. His voice was shaking, afraid of something, and Philza forced himself gentle before he spoke.

"Ranboo, this is a bad time. Can we talk later?"

"No, uh. You said to call you when I saw Techno?"

That caught Philza's attention. "Did you see him?"

"Well, no, I-I don't really know. But this big dark shape flew overhead and… I-I-I think I saw him. It crashed in the hills."

"Dark…" He thought of Puffy diving to the ground earlier, instinct taking over to hide. But nothing flew here, not without rain. And nothing that big. "Ranboo, get a torch ready. I'm coming back."

Philza turned on his heel, trident in hand, when a loud crack of thunder made him flinch. He eyed the sky, eyed the lightning storm above him, and put away the trident. He'd be slower, but he wasn't about to risk death here. For Techno, yes, yes, he would in a heartbeat. But he was useless to Techno right now if he was dead. Philza broke out into a sprint, weaving through buildings and vines until his feet hit wood. The wind and thunder roared in his ears in time to his heartbeat, in time with his racing footsteps. His wings flared out and caught a gust of wind. When he landed, he slipped on the stone. Pain burned through his skull from the slice in his hand and he pushed himself to his feet. Come on, he had to. He had to go! If there was a chance that Techno was safe…! If there was a chance he was okay!

Philza slid through the portal. The rain evaporated off him in an instant as he bolted down the path. He knew the nether well enough, knew this path enough to know how to use his wings to catch him, to stop him from falling. He would find Techno. He would save him. No matter what dangers he faced, he would save him. No matter what horrors his friend faced, no matter if the egg corrupted him, he would save him! He would. He would!

He would.

Philza couldn’t stand to see his friend suffer. He couldn’t stand to be part of any more suffering. If he had to, he would take Techno far away. He would take his friend far from them all. From all the pain and suffering. He would take Ranboo too. Gods above knew the kid had suffered enough. He would fix it. He would keep them safe.

He would.

He ducked into the portal and was met with air so cold it burned his lungs. He coughed, the cold already seeping in through his armor, through the remaining heat of the nether. He wrapped his wings tight around him and glanced at the sky. There was no storm here. Just the icy light of the moon. He hurried towards home, hurried towards torchlight. Ranboo was waiting outside, torch burning in hand. As Philza approached, he touched the sword at his sword to remind him it was still there.

---

Dream squeezed Techno's arm, willing his skin from netherite to flesh, willing his body less into nightmare. Techno was cold, barely breathing in the snow. He was still unconscious. Dream could smell that his throat was still raw and reeking of blood spilled wrong. Seeing his soulbleeder laid low like that sent everything inside Dream still tethered to this world asunder. He would have killed them, slaughtered them until the grass was black with their entrails. But his name, whispered in fear from the mouth of someone who still looked like his friend, dragged his head out of the sea he drowned in. It was enough that Dream picked up Techno, heavy and limp like a corpse, and flew him back. Dream flew back to the snow and cold of Techno's home, until his body gave out under the weight of his own flesh. They were still too far and Dream felt so weak. He would never make it there and back to the prison without rest. But he could not rest in the snow, not while Techno might be suffering, still under the egg's influence. No, he had to get him home.

The schling of a sword unsheathed was Dream's only warning. The blade halted just under his chin and he was forced to look up. Torchlight flickered behind Philza, the dim light barely illuminating his face. But Dream didn't need the light to see him, to see the expression. He could taste Philza's fear from here.

A soft gasp pulled Dream's attention away from the shaking sword from his throat, his gaze flicking to the one who held the torch. Ranboo thrust the torch forward to help Philza see better and Dream flinched from the light. Too used to darkness, the light burned.

"What are you doing here?" came Philza's voice, his worry cracking like jaws through a turtle shell. Dream gazed up at him, at his disgust, his anger, his terror. Dream breathed it in, willing his aching body back to life, back to movement. He turned his head towards Technoblade, and for one brief chilling moment, he thought his partner dead. A weak, shaking breath revealed the worst had not yet come to pass.

"Ranboo," Philza started, the name spoken sharply. The sword had begun to waver, but now snapped back in place at Dream's throat. "Take Techno back to the house." His gaze focused on Dream, briefly leaving the monster to hiss his order at Ranboo again. Ranboo startled and dropped the torch. A soft chirp of Ender left him as he hurried to pick up Techno. He stilled when he got close to Dream, a single step from panicking. Dream eyed him, his hand curling tight on Techno's arm, until finally releasing him. Ranboo dragged him onto his shoulders and hurried away from the two, leaving them in flickering darkness.

"Dream," Philza said, pressing the blade closer to his throat. Dream lifted up his gaze, his inhuman eyes blinking at the man. Philza had never seen the man without his mask on. To his knowledge, none of them had. Seeing his face now, after everything he had done…

He could now see him for the monster he really was.

"Why are you here?" Phil asked again, struggling to keep calm.

“They were going to kill him, Phil.” The sentence should have been an explosion of sound, a scream, a snarl, a roar! But it came out of Dream like a whimper, bitter anger and helplessness. It was a mirror of the helplessness Phil felt when he realized his old friend was in danger and the terror of not getting to him fast enough. It was a kinship, he felt suddenly. Phil set his jaw firm and hardened himself against that thought. He did not want to feel kinship with the monster before him. Dream continued, his head hanging away from the sword.

“I… I don’t know how long he was down there, but,” he bit his lip. Phil could see glimpses of the emotions racing across his face and he was struck by how open Dream was. His voice, even, held open desperation. “Phil. I could hear him screaming.” Phil went cold, so cold he swore his heart stuttered to a stop. The implications flooded his mind until it was all he could see. Techno trapped above the egg, its voice the loudest thing in his head. He wouldn’t have been able to mine out of the obsidian. They had found his gear locked in a chest. Techno’s hands had been bloody, hadn’t they? It was hard to see in the dark, but… Had he tried to claw his way out? They assumed three days, but how long had he really been there? How long had he suffered alone?

“So, I brought him home. To you.” The way he addressed Phil was full of venom, but also… It sounded like a concession, an admittance that he never wanted to speak into existence. What? That Philza was better equipped to take care of Technoblade? There was also a hint of…

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t run you through on my blade,” Phil said, guiding both his thoughts and Dream’s head back to the matter at hand.

“Because if I die, then death is permanent?”

“A different one,” Phil hissed. Dream contemplated him, like he didn’t have a sword inches from his throat. The torchlight died, plunging them into darkness. As Phil’s eyes adjusted to the cold moonlight, Dream’s voice came, whispered like a corpse’s dying breath.

“Because I don’t know if Techno’s going to survive the night.”

“Is that a threat?” Phil asked. His voice did not waver, but he felt his fear settle in again. If he killed Dream here and Techno died before he could get back… But if he ran now, it meant letting Dream roam free. Phil couldn’t live with himself if he was the cause for more suffering. His indecision trapped him. His sword twisted in his hands and he focused on Dream again. Dream’s jaws opened, teeth reflecting the moonlight as he dragged himself to his feet. His hand braced around the edge of the sword and he leveled his gaze with Phil’s.

“What do I gain by threatening you here, Phil?!” Dream yanked the sword back to his throat. Phil expected to see more snarls, more teeth, more threats. What he saw instead froze him in his tracks. Dream’s eyes, wild and poison green, were tear filled and feral in his desperation.

“Why do you care!” He shouted back. He ripped the sword out of Dream’s hand, his wings flaring behind him. “Techno hates you! Why would you save him?”

Dream’s eyes widened. He stumbled back, dark blood dripping onto the snow as realization cracked across his face. “He never told you,” he said softly, as if to himself. Before Phil could respond, Dream stepped forward and continued with a voice as hard as bedrock. “Techno is the last thing tethering me to this world.” Phil blinked. He took in Dream’s expression, the unshakeable truth to his words. But…

“What about Tommy?”

“Tommy?” Disbelief danced across Dream’s face. A sick laugh bubbled out of him. Dream hugged himself as he laughed even harder. “Tommy?!” Once his laughter subsided, Dream grinned wildly at Phil. “Tommy is just a toy to be used and played with.” His grin faded and he hugged himself tighter. “Techno is different.”

“Different?” Phil shook his head and sighed. He couldn’t deal with this. He didn’t understand what Dream meant and the longer he stayed out here, the longer Technoblade was left without help. Ranboo didn’t know how to take care of a body, to heal and make it whole again. Technoblade could be dying and Phil wasn’t by his side. He had to make a decision and he had to make it now. “So, what even is your plan here? Save Technoblade and you think that makes up for everything you did? Do you think you can just roam free now?”

“No, I—“

"Then what?" Phil asked, hilt of the blade humming familiar violence under his fingers. Just one stroke.

"I’ll head back," Dream said, caught by a shiver wracking his body. He lifted his hands up in a staying gesture. "Just as soon as I can. I mean, hey," he shot Phil an exhausted smile, something that should have been cavalier, would have been, if Dream was acting like he normally did. "It was made for me, after all. May as well."

“It… what?”

Something lit up in Dream’s eyes and he tilted his head. “The prison. Was designed to hold me. Of course, I belong there.”

Philza didn’t want to think about the implications of that. It was cold, the moon drifting higher in the sky, and he was exhausted. He didn’t want to give up this easily though. He gripped his sword and opened his mouth to say something at Dream.

“You know what?” Dream started, taking a step back. “How about this: you let me go back, alone, and I’ll owe you a favor. Anything you want. Anything at all.” Philza eyed him for a long moment. Then, with a soft sigh, he sheathed his sword and took a step back. Dream smiled and gave him a nod; their deal agreed upon. His body cracked as his wings opened again and he started to turn away from Phil.

“Dream,” Phil called, a hand outstretched as if to stay him. “You need to understand one thing first. If you ever hurt Technoblade, I’ll run you through on this sword myself.” Dream turned back and leveled his gaze with him.

“If I ever hurt Technoblade, I’ll let you.” Dream turned on his heel, and started to walk away. Phil started to turn away, his thoughts shifting to Technoblade in their house and how he was going to fix him, when something dropped in front of his face. The enchanted sheen of the god apple shone up at him from the snow.

---

Sam tapped his foot, his anxiety crawling around like spiders as the lava slowly crept down. Somehow, somehow, Dream had escaped. Escaped into the night and no one around knew what happened. He didn't alert many people. Just Puffy, who had called about Technoblade and the egg. She told Philza, since he had been with her. She rushed over and he gave her temporary access to help him search the prison for break ins or weaknesses. The only thing they had found were some blocks placed wrong in the ceiling. Above several stories of lava. The mining fatigue curse was still in place. There was no sign of tools, no sign of potions. The only thing different about the cell was that damn clock was broken again. And Dream's mask and some of his clothes were in the chest. Which was… strange. The last person to have visited Dream was Technoblade almost a week ago. And Sam searched him! Searched his crown even! And there was nothing! Sam was going to check the cell again, praying that he had somehow missed something to explain Dream's escape.

The lava receded into the floor and Sam looked up to the cell and froze. He blinked several times, even rubbed at his eyes to rid what must be a sleep deprived hallucination. But the scene before him didn't change.

Dream, his back pressed against the far wall, sat with his knees pulled up in front of him. The mask was back on, all his clothes on, and he looked as though he was writing in one of his journals. It was a scene that Sam had grown accustomed to seeing when he brought Dream his meals. But…

"What?!" He shouted across the expanse. Dream looked up at the noise. Seeing Sam, he waved. He got up, put away the journal, and stepped close to the edge of the cell.

"Hey, Sam," Dream called.

"Where did you go?!”

“Out.”

“How did you get out?!”

"There's a little weakness in the blocks up there that you might want to check out," Dream explained, pointing up at the ceiling. Right where Sam had found the blocks placed wrong.

"How did you get up there?!"

Dream shrugged and stepped back from the edge. "Do you think you could get me a new clock?"

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dream, stepped back, and flipped the lever to bring the lava back down.

#technodream #technophil #dream smp #technoblade #dream #philza #dream smp fic #dsmp #mystuff #this has been a pain to tag cuz i just keep blanking on it #these bonds we keep #this fic is almost 13k words so tbh read it on ao3 #i also worked sooooooooooo hard on this fic #hope you enjoy it

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