#Tubbo in particular killed a lot of people. probably the most out of all the team | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcmoth · 3 years

Text

BOIS

The aro c!Tommy propoganda is done.

Here:

Friends can be Home, too

Summary:

Love. The thing that supposedly drove the world, that made everyone happy. He thought he knew love. But maybe… maybe not. Maybe there has been something deeply, intangibly wrong about him this whole time, and he hadn't even known. Not to this extent.

'Cause he knew before. Knew it in the unease in his bones, and the panic in his brain, and the annoyed buzz in his chest. But… but he had doubted.

He couldn't doubt anymore.

A journey of introspection, self doubt, and realizing you're not alone.

Or read on ao3!

Warnings: swearing, internalized arophobia, which includes self doubt, a bit of self hate, that sort of stuff. Also, this will have like, mentions of attraction and all that stuff, and Tommy gets pretty confused, so if you'd like to avoid that? This isn't the fic for you, ig. Btw, as a reminder, this is all set in the dsmp universe and is not about the irl people in any way.

Now onto the fic!

Welp.

Tommy sure is ready to stab someone right now.

Well, not really. More accurately he wanted to run, or shrivel up into a fucked up raisin, or snap, or just exist in darkness right now. Because there were his two best friends, cuddling on the couch. And he was sat there, next to them, supposed to be enjoying movie night.

It's not like he wasn't happy for them. They can do what they want, he reminded himself, again and again. They're just expressing their love, they're just close, and Tommy has to stop being such a fucking oddball about it. This wasn't weird. It wasn't weird.

And he could even see Ranboo giving him looks, probably about to ask something stupid. But if he made any comment, expressed discomfort, that would just be him being a dick and a weirdo. He's not going to ruin this for them. He just has to… to ignore it. To ignore it. He can do that. Yes.

“You alright, Tommy?”

Tommy's jaw snapped, he could feel his teeth grinding, and the couch was feeling all too small. So with a fast raise to his feet, he stumbled away, throwing a brash “fine" Ranboo's way, something burning deep in the pit that was his chest.

It was fine. It was fine. Why wasn't it fine? What the fuck was wrong with him??

Maybe he was just…

Jealous.

***

“I think I have a crush on Hannah.”

Tubbo and Ranboo stilled. The silence was… bad.

“oh?”

Tommy gulped, anxiously crinkling the chip bag he got from targay. “Y-yeah.”

Tubbo hummed. “I've never seen you interact with her much. When… did that start?”

Tommy's mind buzzed, and he resisted crushing the food in his hands, reclining heavily against the backrest of the bench. “I-I don't know, uh, recently? I guess? She's just… nice. She uh…. Has pretty hair? And she gave me a flower once! That was just, swe- uh, poggers of her, so. Yeah. I just think… yeah.”

Tubbo nodded, head tilting. “Do you think she likes you back?”

Tommy's eyes widened, and he didn't know why he laughed, but he did, and when he responded, he himself was taken aback by the hiss accompanying the words. “No!! She- why would- no- no, I mean… m-ma- I don't know??”

Ranboo swung his tail. “She better not. I mean, how old is she?”

“What does that matter?”

Ranboo stared. “You’re a child. Technically.”

Tommy bristled. “Fuck you, I am a big man! I'll kill you!”

The conversation moved on after that, and Tommy, somewhere along the way, quickly got lost. Head filled with cotton, electricity running through his veins, feeling horribly, oddly, humiliated and strangely… dissatisfied.

They didn't care. And he just felt more confused than ever.

…Why did he even do that?

***

Tommy was walking, grass up to his knees, a lead in hand. When he reached the village, he tied it to a fence, patting his borrowed horse before placing feet on the path, comforted by the gravel crunching beneath his feet, the feel of the sun on his neck. He looked around, at the wooden houses and half stacked stalls and idle chatter. He looked around and he thought.

He thought back to older days. This was… strangely nostalgic. Walking alone, in an unfamiliar town, the vastness of the world enveloping him in it's many potentials. He still wasn't sure when he felt better. Running around on the streets, just trying to survive, noone by his side, weak but naïve, hopeful. Or now, with some people to care for and trust, a place to return to, enough food in his pack, but shouldered with the weight of a dozen betrayals, life slipping past him three times too many. In a sense, he was still just trying to survive. Everything was so different now, yet the same.

He supposes, one thing that remained, was the sense of loneliness.

He grasped the front of his shirt, taking in the beating of his heart, looking at the strangers mingling amongst themselves. At the pairs, at the couples, at the families, sharing laughs and smiles, a contrast to the furrowed brows or tired amusement of shopkeepers and the idle folk visiting them.

He had always wanted a family.

…there was one way to get a family.

Someone to share laughs with. Someone who would comfort you. Someone who would take your hand, or hold you through the night, and never even leave. Someone who promises to stay.

It was a nice thought.

So why was it so hard to conceptualize? To imagine, to picture someone actually coherent, to look at a person and go – yes. I want to be your partner.

...eugh. just that sentence made his whole nervous system do a double take.

But why? Why? Was it the betrayals? Was it some fucked up self conscious mind shit? Was that it? Was he just fucked up in the head? Maybe.

Maybe.

But as it is, he knew he liked girls. He did. He liked them. They were… they were nice. Like Niki, who smelled of baked goods, and had a soft smile, and who had once given him a hug when she found him crying during the revolution, and who looked very nice in dresses. Or Puffy, who had made him a pickaxe when he asked for one, and who opposed Jack in stealing his hotel, and who offered him therapy, and she had really cool horn rings. Or Hannah, with her red flowers, and pretty builds, and the way the nature seemed just a bit more lively with her around, and her laugh was bright with mischievous intent that he could empathize with. They… they were nice. Yeah. Most girls were so nice.

So why… why hadn't he found one that he could. Actually picture doing… anything. In his head. No kissing, no dates, none of that… shmuck. It was just… he could see many girls his age running around, just now, in front of his eyes, many running through his mind as he searched his memories. None of them… no. And he tried thinking of boys, but that didn't… no. Not that either. …Enbies?

No… no, nothing… nothing felt. Good. None of it felt good, he just felt sick, he just felt weird, he didn't even feel dirty per se, but more like he was charting into foreign grounds, into something alien, and none of the thoughts he forced to visualize behind his eyelids, fleeting from how quickly he shut them out, felt like him. It didn't feel like him.

His fingers trembled, his chest felt tight, throat choked, and his head, on his shoulders, heavy and woozy and oh so muddled. He felt his heart race. Was… was that it? Maybe that was a sign. People said heart racing was a sign of attraction. Was there anyone in particular who did that? Maybe he was wrong – he was not lacking or messed up or broken, he just had buried the feelings so deep below his ribs, underneath fabricated doubts and trauma and the disconnect he had with reality and relationships in general, and once he got over those barriers, and just found someone, he would experience that joy that everyone spoke about. That closeness. He just had to… allow himself to get closer. To know more people, know them better.

That was… that was probably it.

But no matter. He raised his eyes, his senses coming back to him like the wind blowing his hair out of his eyes, blinking at the noise around him.

After all, he still came here for a reason.

***

“Yeah, I like these ones the best,” Tubbo said as he handed Tommy the various colored discs. Tommy nodded, smiling as he sorted through them, writing down the names in his notepad, feeling little stones dig into his elbows. Tubbo joined him fully on the ground, laying down next to him. “What do you need these for, anyways?” he blinked, and there was a smirk growing on his face. “Are they for… someone?”

Tommy furrowed his brows, staring at the other. “What?”

Tubbo chuckled nervously, waving his hand around as he stumbled over his words. “You- you know. Like a gift? Are you going to… to try to, get someone?”

Tommy’s stare just became sharper, becoming even more confused. “What??” What the fuck was he talking about?

“You know, like a- a date?” Tommy blanked. “Cause- you know, you've been talking about girls a lot lately, and I just thought-"

“No.” Tommy interrupted, feeling numb. “No, it's not for a fucking girl.”

“Oh.” Tubbo laid on the grass, clearly uncomfortable. He began to tear up the leaf he had picked up. “Sorry, I just thought- I'm not really good at this whole thing… sorry for assuming. W- …what is the reason, then?”

Tommy sighed, thankful for the topic change. “It's for… you know how I’m going to therapy?”

Tubbo hummed in affirmation.

“Puffy suggested that, since I like music, I should like, indulge in that, use it to calm myself or give myself something to do, that junk. So I’ve just been. Collecting, I guess.” He looked over the list again, then closed the notepad and sat up, discs in hand. “I wanna build a place where I just keep all the records, maybe I’ll even sell the ones I don't like. Good business practice, you know?”

Tubbo brightened. “Oh! That sounds really cool! If you need help with the building part, I can help you, by the way!”

Tommy looked at Tubbo's grin, so sweet and infectious, and his heart thawed, thinking of working with Tubbo again, building towards something together. It was a nice thought. “Alright.”

It would be nice to be with Tubbo again.

***

Tommy felt miserable.

This… this was miserable. He didn't know why. It really shouldn't be – it was just music. He was just sorting through all of his music, picking ones he liked, picking ones to comfort him, he loved music, it was fine, it just…

Why did so many of the songs have to be about love.

It made him feel angry and hurt and alone in a particular way that was so familiar and yet so utterly different. Because when he felt alone before, he fought with himself the same, he sunk into the thoughts of being unlovable or broken or undeserving of company, but at least he could understand it. At least he could look back now and think “Dream was a bitch" and that would be some solace. At least he could have hope that even if he was unlovable, he could still love. Love others. Try to seek others. Even if he never got that back.

But now, hearing all the poetics and sweet confessions that were in such abundance, something that sounded so passionate and revered, so integral, it was like looking into another reality he didn't, couldn't, understand, and suddenly, he felt more alien than ever before.

And most importantly, how fucking stupid that was, that the thing that made him feel that way was love.

Cause he knew before. Knew it in the unease in his bones, and the panic in his brain, and the annoyed buzz in his chest. But… but he had doubted.

He couldn't doubt anymore.

God….

He laid on the ground, head to the cold floor, the record still spinning. The noise bounced off the dark wooden walls and into his skull, grating and aching. He covered his ears, messed up his hair, breathed in and out. In and out. What was wrong. What was wrong.

The record fell to silence. Then it started back again, as it automatically swapped out. Next.

His fingers felt restless, his whole body did. He tapped his skull, feeling the thumps echo. Breathe in, and breathe out. Breathe-

“-ow will I ever know you enough to love you, if you're hiding who you are?

Don't ask me to explain-"

He startled, his breath catching. This disc was scratchier than the others. It felt different. Something in him drew in the lyrics, head loud. He blinked.

…He's not hiding. Is he? Hiding what? He’s- no. Just- Breathe in-

“-Who are you hiding from, across the table with a penny in each eye?

Don't ask me to explain, don’t ask me to explain-"

His breath escaped, arms trembling as his body froze. He didn't understand. He couldn't explain. He wanted to cry. Something was unravelling.

“I'd like to marry all of my close friends, and live in a big house together by an angry sea,”

He sobbed.

He did, he thought, with surprise, as the tears fell.

“Am I the devil's marbles don't move on without me,

Who will be watching my body when I sleep?

Who will I believe in?”

Something… yeah.

Something happened.

Because suddenly, all that stress, all that confusion, all that loathing, was detangling, and the tears ran deep, ran painful, silent, wheezing screams escaping as the sobs continued. He couldn't breathe. His chest was tight. His head swam, and he felt oh so light headed. Light. He felt light. Happy. He felt alive.

He felt understood.

He- he wanted that! He could- he wanted to live with his friends, with Tubbo with Ranboo. He wanted to stay as friends. He wanted them to protect him, to be able to trust them, to be able to protect them in turn, he wanted to reside with them, he wanted to sleep amongst them, to have them watch over him, safe, he wanted to wake up in the morning and see the sun rise with then, he wanted to have casual dinner with them, he wanted to grow old together with them. As friends. As friends.

Friends.

What a lovely thing…

He could… he could live with his friends…

He could build a family with his friends.

And he didn't even care at that moment that he didn't know how Tubbo and Ranboo would feel about that. He didn't care whether they'd want him at their house, whether they'd want him around at all. He didn't even care, at that moment, if he couldn’t join them.

Because he realized that it was a possibility at all. Just the prospect, just the thought, the realization, that spending your life, being intimate, finding a stable ground, with your friends, not romantic partner, was possible, that it was possible to not be able to feel otherwise, that it was shared by other people, who wrote this song, who sung it, who had thought about it…

It meant he couldn't be that alone after all.

“It's so easy to lie to myself,

And pretend that I could love you, but I can't"

And oh so comforting it was, that he couldn't.

***

“Ey, Ranboo! Bitchboy!”

Ranboo suppressed a smile, an exasperated sigh hissing through his teeth. Tail swishing, he glanced to the other boy, who was down below, standing in the snow.

“C'mere!! I gotta give you something.” He yelled.

Ranboo raised a brow, but complied, closing the window he had been looking out of. After making a quick detour to check on Michael, he made his way down the stairs and stepped out of the doorway and into the light. Tommy bounded to him, big grin on his face. He seemed jumpier than usual. Ranboo smiled in turn. “what is it?”

Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it, instead going to rummage through his bag. What he took out was a… box? “Here, fuckboy.”

Ranboo winced, taking the container. “Don't call me that.”

“Why, what does it mean?”

Ranboo stared. “Just…. Don't.”

Tommy blinked, laughing nervously. “o-okay.”

Moving on, Ranboo inspected the item in his hands. It was medium sized, and made of simple, but elegant, smooth black wood. On the top, there was a leather sign embedded in it, with the word Beloved stitched into it. His ears flickered. This seemed… awfully nice. “What’s in it?”

Tommy scoffed. “Just open it, you twat.”

Ranboo, with a glance, could see the anxious way Tommy was holding himself, seeming impatient and uncomfortable. So he wasted no more time, and clicked open the surprisingly sturdy iron latch after a moment of struggling, and what awaited him inside was…

“…Discs…?”

Ranboo held his breath, fingers twitching as he held the gift. …was it a gift?

Tommy was staring at the ground. “Yeah. You know, I’ve just been traveling around, collecting, and I wanted to…” He seemed to shake himself lightly, hands wringing. “I wanted to give you some, I guess. That… yeah. These are yours.”

Ranboo was stiff, still perceiving the actual gift in his hands, that looked hand made, that was hand picked, that Tommy had worked to attain, just to give to him. His tail curled, and he carefully, delicately closed it's lid and hugged it close to his chest. “I… Thank you. Thank- O-oh wow…”

Tommy scowled. “You look like a fish. It's not a big deal. Just… take a listen sometime, won't ya?”

“Y-yeah!” Ranboo reverently nodded, cursing the way his eyes felt misty. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll definitely listen, and cherish it. Thank you, Tommy.”

Tommy curtly nodded. “Alright. Pog.” And then, he was turning around, walking away with a quick “Share it with your family, too, some day. Bye.” Thrown or his shoulder.

And then, he was gone.

***

Tubbo heard music down the hall.

Ears tilting towards the pleasant sound, he skipped with bare feet over to the source, evening light casting warm glow through the windows as he went. When he arrived, to what was Michael's bedroom, he found Ranboo on the couch, curled gently over their son, head resting on his little head as he seemed to just… listen, wistful. Michael was listening too, letting out a little yawn as he turned his head to snuggle even deeper into his parent's warm embrace. Tubbo smiled softly at the scene.

Quietly, he patted over to them both, Ranboo eventually noticing him and watching him as he did. Tubbo buried a hand in Ranboo's hair, and the other leaned in. “What are you listening to?”

Ranboo didn't rush to explain, letting the comforting silence fill the space. When he spoke, it reminded Tubbo of soft flower petals and honey. “I didn't know Tommy's music taste was so…”

Tubbo blinked, turning to the disc lazily turning on the jukebox near them.

“-But in the end, I don't really care what you think,

Cause the bottom line is you make me happier than I’ve ever been...”

“wholesome.” He chuckled, fondly.

Tubbo hummed, unsurprised. “Tommy gave you these?”

Ranboo leaned more heavily in the couch. “Yeah. I don't know why, but…”

Tubbo's smile only deepened as he thought. Slowly, he replied, “I think he just wanted to show you he cared.”

Ranboo seemed to lose his breath a little, looking up at the other. “You think so…?”

Tubbo carded his fingers through Ranboo's hair, looking past Ranboo's twitching ears. “Tommy doesn't do things like these without reason. If he gave you something, it’s safe to say you mean a lot to him. He doesn't like to show it, usually, but… that I know.”

Ranboo stared at the turning of the discs, breathing softly. His tail curled around Michael. “Oh.”

Tubbo sat down at his feet and joined in.

Hearts warm, they laid there and listened until the sun had cast it's last rays and the jukebox no longer had a melody to spin.

***

Tommy sat behind the counter, feet on the counter, just trying to eat his discount chips while some people were being dumb children.

“Stop throwing the fucking food! I'll have to clean this up later!” He whined, to which Tubbo and Ranboo just threw him a glance, Tubbo’s apathetic and Ranboo's at least vaguely guilty, before Tubbo went right back and threw another gummy worm Ranboo's way.

Tommy scowled. “Seriously. At least pick them up and eat them.”

Ranboo made a face of disgust. “I'm not gonna eat candy off the floor, Tommy.”

“Yeah, some of us don't eat mud, Tommy.” Tubbo added.

“There’s no fucking mud here! It's a clean floor! You can totally pick them up and eat them, what the fuck!”

Tubbo raised his brows, staring. “Okay, then go and eat them, trash boy.”

“Okay, that's it.” Tommy raised to his feet, left his chip bag on the table and ran to Tubbo. Tubbo squawked, crawling onto the armchair he was reclining in to curl into a ball around his bag, but Tommy just threw himself onto the armchair with him, trying to reach for the candy. Which, considering the position, it was more like he was half-tickling, half hugging the other more than anything. “Give me that.”

Tubbo just burst out laughing, trying to hide deeper into the couch, attempting to kick the other away. “St-Stoppp!”

“C'mon, you disobeyed my shop's rules, I’m just confiscati-"

Something hit his head. Tommy stilled.

Ranboo peeked from behind his own candy bag, before digging into it again.

Tommy laid off of Tubbo slightly, raising like a puffed up cat. “Ranboo, you fuck!”

Tubbo laughed again, and Tommy was about to go on a murder spree, only for all the commotion to halt when they heard a sudden 4th voice.

Michael.

“Oh shit.”

Ranboo sighed. “He's awake. C'mon.”

Tubbo sighed as well, rolling out of the couch and dragging his feet towards the source of the oinks. “For the record, this is not my fault.”

Both of the other boys gave him the stink eye, but in the name of preserving needed ceasefire they held their tongues.

Michael was sitting up in Tommy's bed that resided in the backrooms, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and hiccuping. Tubbo reached for him, lifting him up. “Aww, did we wake you up? I'm sorry, little bossman.”

Michael clutched Tubbo's shirt, muttering something in piglin.

“He's asking what all that noise was.” Tommy quickly translated, before turning his eyes back to the kid and saying something soft in piglin back. Michael listened, seeming to quiet a little.

Ranboo, gathering that it was an affirmation, smiled and took one of Michael's hooves gently. “Yeah, we were just having fun. Do you want to have fun, too, Michael?”

Michael’s big eyes widened, and he wiggled in Tubbo's grip. “Ye! Ye!”

They chuckled, and Tubbo transferred his hold of Michael to Ranboo, who led the way in making it back to the front of the shop, chatting with his son all the while.

Tommy bumped his shoulder with Tubbo's as they walked, but didn't say anything further. Tubbo bit back a grin.

The next hour was spent feeding Michael and letting him listen to some new discs. Tommy even remembered he had some records that were in piglin, some songs, some stories, and put them on, which seemed to enrapture Michael quite a bit, immersed in the new voices and tales and familiarity. The three boys let him sit in Ranboo's lap and get lost in his own world, residing on a couch together and quietly chatting, around them comfortingly dark walls, bookshelves and the smell of wood and candles.

Eventually, the conversation steered.

“You know, Tommy, why don't you join us?”

…huh?

Tommy blinked, willing his breathing to restart and for the words to come. “W-what?”

Tubbo looked at him with warm eyes and a trepidant smile. “Like, how would you feel about coming to Snowchester? Live with us?”

Ranboo waved his hand. “Of course, you don't have to! But we just thought, you know, if you'd like a bit more, uh, company…”

“We want to be with you, is all.” Tubbo added quietly.

Tommy's heart raced, and he only blinked more, hands clutching the fabric of his pants. “B- be with me… are you…” he gulped down the butterflies clogging down his windpipes, still trying to understand that this is real. “are you sure…?”

Ranboo grinned, patting Michael's head idly. The piglin looked up at them. “Yeah! You're family, Tommy, after all.”

Tubbo tilted his head. As Tommy was still struggling to respond, he assured, “You don't have to if you don't want to, big man. No pressure.”

Tommy laughed, weak and breathless, but bright. “No, I-I’d- I'd really want that, but…” he gestured, trying to put his worries to sudden coherent sentences. “wouldn't that be… awkward? Like… you two, just, l-lovebirds," he chuckled clumsily, “and then there's… me, just, there?”

Tubbo shared a look with Ranboo, then turned back and laughed. “You won't be a third wheel, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, it's not like we’re really romantic partners, even, it'll be fine.” Ranboo said.

Tommy stilled.

Blinked.

“Uhw- what?”

The other two tensed, Tubbo quickly glancing at his husband before grimacing, thinking deep on how to explain it. “You know, we… we're not really… romantic? We just decided to marry? But we're… not platonic either, it's…”

“I-It's something inbetween. Queerplatonic is the word? I think?”

“It's hard to explain-"

“There's- there's a word for that? And you were- Like. Friends? Living together, this whole time??” Tommy reeled, head in hand.

“Well, not exactly friends, or at least, with how we decide to label our relationship, but… yes?”

“Oh my-" Tommy slumped forwards, now both of his hands holding his head upright, just. Breathing. “Shit. What the fuck. I…” he laughed, wrecked.

Tubbo and Ranboo stared at him, uncomfortable. Tubbo frowned. “Look, if you… if you're gonna say something, I’d rather-"

“No- nono, it's…” he raised his eyes, slowly, like coming out of a cave and into the light. His words tripped upon his tongue, but he was so eager to know. “So you two don't want… romantic partners?”

They blinked. “Not… particularly, no.” Ranboo replied. “…are you okay?”

Tommy laughed. It sounded stilted even to his ears, senses muddled as he was wrapped up in his own head, his own elated feelings, his heart nearly bursting at the seams. “I-I’m not alone.”

Tubbo stared, but then his eyes softened. He sighed, and his smile was immensely gentle, while looking at his friend. “Oh, Tommy…” Ranboo, beside him, wilted the same.

Michael, inbetween them, looked at all three of them silently.

“…Do you want a hug?” Tubbo quietly offered.

Tommy quickly nodded, slumping into Tubbo's side and burying his face in Tubbo's soft hair, not even caring for the way one of his horns poked into his cheek slightly. He held the other, and Tubbo held him. He felt the end of Ranboo's tail drape over his leg.

With a delicate tone and worn vocal chords, he quietly, and simply, admitted. “I'd love that. I'd really love that. Living with you three.”

Tubbo tightened his hold.

That night, Tommy fell asleep not alone, but with his two other closest people, his family. Safe, warm, with that insistent nagging at the back of his chest cavity, that told him he was alone, that he was wrong about himself, that he never even knew himself at all, finally silenced.

He had never felt more at home.

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doodlebloo · 2 years

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not to be a lil sensitive but not only do i just think its bad taste to constantly joke abt killing off a 3yr old fictional or not but it also just like. doesnt reflect well on the ccs involved to be doing this like. just so they can upset fans that arent even theirs like. theyre just doing this to make people Uncomfortable and Upset and thats fucked up when we were told that michael wouldnt have this stuff happen to him. theres a difference between sam keeping michael hostage when sams habit of kidnapping michael was already established and something beeduo was aware of and.

sapnap n george constantly getting people into actively threatening him and constantly baiting viewers into believing they killed him off like. for many its funny sure but for a lot of other people its just genuinely upsetting and disappointing esp bc theres a possibility that it messed with other peoples (such as tubbo and ranboo, MICHAELS LITERAL PARENTS) story arcs lmao. rp etiquette is down the gutter w this -🎭🎪

Yeah like I'm not watching this particular stream so I can't testify as to like how far this particular joke went, how quick they dropped it, how clear it was that it's a joke, etc BUT

I feel like it's different for the CCs because they always know their own intent. So when they say they're going to kill him, THEY know it's a joke, and they assume everyone else knows it's a joke. And by now, most of us do know it's a joke! But back when this all first started that really wasn't as clear, y'know?

I feel like esp with upcoming lore they know not to Really put the actual mob in any Real danger but like. Even if we take int account that they're currently acting Out Of Character (which means that this isn't c!Sapnap threatening a child it's Sapnap The CC threatening a Minecraft Mob who belongs to someone else) it's still weird because. Again there are countless pets builds etc on the server that are important but would upset people way less and may EVEN lead to "lore" or something.

Like there are other people on the server who are in way more frequently, and if the point of the joke was to grief or pretend to grief people, you'd think they'd choose a target that 1. Isn't super plot relevant and 2. Is owned by someone who logs on more frequently, y'know?

So like I fully understand that the joke is not "Kill Michael_B", the joke is "SAY we are going to kill him/pretend to kill him while really he is safe." I understand that that is the intent behind the jokes and that they wouldn't actually ruin someone's storyline on purpose.

But the fact that they're STILL singling out this one mob as the one they're going to joke about killing really does make it seem like griefing or killing a pet isn't the punchline at all and the punchline they're actually shooting for is seeing fans get upset. And I know they probably mean it in a lighthearted way, just to see people spam D: or NOOO in chat and such, but it's just Weird that this is a joke they continuously return to, because how many times can you pretend to kill the same mob and watch people for "no don't" before it's not entertaining anymore?

Like I'm sure they don't mean badly and maybe it's some like inside joke between them that we're not in on but I really can't figure out what's funny enough about "I could kill this mob which would cause a poltline to be ruined but I won't but will pretend to do it" for them to do it over and over again (esp because these ccs are so effortlessly funny)

(but seriously nobody send any ccs hate over this they haven't done anything actually wrong 👍)

#asks #discourse #/neg #Sapnap neg #IM NOT MAD AT HIM AND I DONT THINK HE NEEDS TO BE FUCKING CANCELELD OR ANYTHING #i just dislike one of his jokes and am allowed to discuss why i dislike it if i tag properly

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

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I was going to actually post this before asks closed (didn’t get the chance), but Teddy Bear Anon, you are one of my favorite people and a magnificent creature. You get my vibe.

About Bad canonically being Sapnap’s dad I feel like that has so much extra angst potential when we consider the rest of the found family. Like. Sapnap, Tommy, and Fundy all have dads who started with the best of intentions but for one reason or another ended up slowly becoming a danger to them. I imagine Tommy and Fundy one day showing up with a cake and telling Sapnap “We regretfully welcome you to the shit dad club” and Sapnap is torn between being upset still and laughing over the absurdity of the situation.

Bonus points if Tommy made the cake using a recipe book that Niki gave him, the last gift Niki ever gave to Tommy. Tommy was originally a really bad cook/baker but after the egg really started to take over he went full survivalist. Leaning to cook was necessary but learning to bake was something he did as a way to raise everyone’s spirits. He’s never gotten the flavor quite to match with Niki’s perfectly but everyone agrees he’s gotten pretty decent in terms of skills. He and Fundy in particular will sometimes just spend an entire day in silence baking and then quietly eat their creations while reflecting on the friends they’ve made and lost over the course of L'manberg’s lifetime. When the group got back to the past and Niki made cookies for Tommy and Fundy the pair very nearly started crying.

Tommy is in an interesting position as a character since he did commit a lot of minor crimes and acted as a general nuisance but he was also still a child. (A very traumatized one considering I canonize SMP Earth with its unlimited lives but even more wars. Including against God. Tommy fought God just let me have this.) He acknowledges the moments when he went over the line and has tried to apologize. In particular at some point before the egg fully takes over he pulls aside Jack and tells him that he’s sorry for the way he acted when he was still in exile, taking one of Jack’s lives and all. Jack and Niki in particular are an interesting subject to address and a painful one for immune!Tommy to think about when he sees younger Niki because the three never fully tossed out the hatchet but it was obvious in the eyes of someone like Sam that both of them were growing more and more hesitant to hurt Tommy. It was made worse by the fact neither were even marginally immune, and it didn’t take long for the egg to get to them.

He never stopped being chaotic. Tommy at his core is just that kind of person. He did, however, grow up enough to act in a more mature manner. Started to recognize what’s too much. In particular he became a lot less violent and willing to lash out after Sam Nook in essence reparented him. He’s still an absolute wild card of a person, which in the eyes of Sam and Sapnap is a good thing. For this au I think we should actually address Tommy having severe ptsd and during the building of his hotel/the early days of the egg before it becomes a noticeable threat it shows. He’s a lot more subdued. Shows of aggression all carry a kind of desperation and his typical jokes feel flat. Lashing out at people slowly becomes more of a defense mechanism to see if someone’s going to leave or betray him, to test the limits of how nice they’re willing to be. After all, nice people have only ever been nice to Tommy when they wanted something from him. His eyes, especially after L'manberg is blow sky high, are well and truly gray. The first time Tommy genuinely laughs after filling Sapnap’s room with chickens is considered celebration worthy to them. His pranks take on a more hermitcraft-esque feel to them which honestly makes them more funny.

By the time they get to the past Tommy has recovered, but he still carries the kind of maturity that like Teddy Bear mentioned is reminiscent of age swap Tommy. When he gets especially stressed though, Immune!Tommy will slip into moments where he acts as tired and done with the world as age swap Tommy. With that said, most of the time he just acts like a more mature Tommy. Nothing could ever completely erase his unique vibe which Ranboo has gone on record as describing “Willing to fight God deaf, blind, and backwards just to prove a point."

Immune Fundy and Tommy get on really well once Fundy manages to catch up with the rest of the group. It gets to the point where everyone from the past is kinda shocked since smp Fundy and Tommy do not get along. At all. Literally the first night Fundy’s back someone goes to wake them up and they find Fundy asleep on top of Tommy which is a wild experience since this Tommy is a goliath who often refuses to take off his full Netherite max enchant armor. He really becomes a "looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll” kinda mans.

Also, yeah, this is Dream’s retirement arc. He is literally just sitting in the corner watching Tommy dote on his younger self and Tubbo before completely pile driving two of the most powerful people on the server straight into the dirt. At some point Tommy sits down with past Punz. He tells this Punz that their Punz died protecting him and Tubbo and that Tommy never got to properly thank their Punz so he’s going to thank this Punz. Tommy then gives Punz an entire stack of Netherite. If we’re gonna go ahead and agree on Phoenix Tommy then Tommy is fire proof, meaning he probably spent a large amount of time in the nether to avoid the egg crew and get rare supplies. Meaning he also probably did a lot of mining just to distract himself and it resulted in him being loaded. Tommy used to have a fear of tnt and explosives but he seems like the type of mad lad to say “exposure therapy” and make a massive cavern in the underbelly of the nether.

I think it would also be really interesting to dedicate like, a couple of chapters to other people’s perspectives. I kind of want to set the time they arrive in the past partway through the Pogtopia arc since I like mildly unhinged but not completely gone Wilbur. Plus then it also makes more sense for Techno to be there. Just prefer the aesthetic really. I want to have Wilbur see this version of Tommy and come to a sudden “oh” moment. I want to have a moment where Tubbo looks between his Tommy and this new Tommy, seeing himself nowhere to be found, and has enough what the fuck moments to become aggressively protective of his own Tommy. Especially if immune!Tommy ever admits to the past Tubbo why he is the way he is, what he faced under the thumb of the people he trusted. Which, out of everyone on the server, Tubbo would be the first one from the past to actively learn.

I am fully on board with Tommy knowing how to sew. That should just automatically be canon in literally ever AU. Tommy for all intents and purposes is still Phil’s child for me. Survival runs in the family the same way that chaos does, so he’s got a ton of basic survival skills that he just doesn’t show off because it’s still Tommy. He would have been completely fine in exile if it wasn’t for Dream. Whenever someone ruins their clothes in the Immune group they automatically go to Tommy and at first the past versions are very confused (except for past Tommy and Tubbo obviously) and then Tommy’s just “Sapnap this is beyond ruined it can’t be saved, let me make you something new” and within a couple days he makes Sapnap a completely new outfit. Like maybe Sapnap fell into a lava pool because Blaze Sapnap Supremacy and his clothes are beyond saving and everyone is beyond baffled when Tommy just acts like this is a weekly occurrence. He’s memorized Sapnap’s measurements and style tastes and already had a new outfit in the works for him that Sapnap immediately adores upon it being presented to him. It takes about a week for past Eret to learn that Tommy stress sews new clothing and he cannot think of a better model. Eret has never had such a full closet. Eret has everything from three piece suits to ball gowns now. Eret lives in terror of the days where Tommy disappears god knows where with Fundy and the two reappear with a new wardrobe for the entire god damn server.

Speaking of disappearing I really like the idea of part phoenix and part tanuki Tommy for a couple reasons. Being a Tanuki he’d have access to enough magic to hide his hybrid traits, which if they’ve been present for long enough would be a necessity to him. Additionally think about Fundy and Tommy building a den under Church Prime that slowly turns into a maze. Think about it. It starts off simple and then they both start digging more and it gets deeper and deeper and more complicate and the two just refer to it as their den and the only ones who are fully aware of the connotations of that word are Sam, Sapnap, and Ranboo who remember the absolute hell that was trying to navigate the original. Just Fundy and Tommy bonding over the fact they are literally the only creatures on this server that have this catacomb memorized and at the end of the catacomb is their saferoom which connects to rail way that the two spent a month straight on. It goes at least 25k blocks from spawn and it’s a final emergency resort in case they can’t stop the egg and the Immunes needs to regroup and essentially try again (if they keep bringing their younger selves with them then hopefully they’ll finally get an army large enough to stop this, but everyone really hopes it doesn’t come to that.)

I’m working on the first chapter of my fic right now actually if I’m gonna be honest and phoenix Tommy is absolutely without question canon to it but I’ve still been going back and forth on if I want him to be part tanuki as well or just blessed/favored by one like Teddy Bear mentioned. I’m also tucking away the whole thing about the magma blood for later use. Phoenix Tommy just makes sense. They used to call him Zombie Kid for a reason back on SMP Earth, he just literally does not die ever unless he decides he does.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

#dream smp #dream smp au #immune au #tommyinnit #fundy #sapnap #eret #the eret #awesamdude #dream #dreamwastaken #wilbur soot #submission #snapdragon & firefly #long post

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whatareusernames · 3 years

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My c!Drista Headcannons (Long Post Warning)

-Drista’s a Dreamon and is kind of like another part of Dream and only comes out when he allows her to take over his body (pretty sure I’ve seen this hc around tho, so its not my original hc) ^^^HOWEVER, my addition to this is that she CAN split from his body and become a totally separate being, but again, only if he allows it.

-She has a temper and tends to get into fights a lot. But it’s not loud anger (yelling, screaming, erratic throwing of hands and insults etc), it’s more like quiet, calculated anger so she’s a lot more scary. Imagine all the jokes about the quiet kid in school.

-She almost always has bruised/split knuckles because she gets into a lot of fights.

-Like, 90% of the time you would see her, she has a lollipop in her mouth (the caramel apple ones) ^^^To go along with that, she chews on the stick once its done. Tommy finds it disgusting and she likes to throw them at him when he says that and watch him freak out.

-She has a scar going from her right temple all the way through both lips. She says she got it from fighting off Technoblade (which no one believes but she doesn’t care), when in reality, Dream was chasing her because she wouldn’t give him his Totem of Undying back and she wasn’t paying attention and ran right off a ledge (the one where Tommy and Tubbo’s bench is overlooking the duck) and fell all the way down, accidentally using the totem AND getting a giant gash across her face. ^^^Dream was pissed about the totem, but makes sure she always has one on her because that accident made him realize how careless she really is. That’s also why she, as a Dreamon, has to have permission to become a separate person.

-She HATES when people try to braid her hair.

-When it’s raining, she likes to go trident-flying with Dream and sometimes she’ll stop and start falling to freak out Dream because he still remembers when she almost died to the ledge. She’ll catch herself most of the time. ^^^Once, she fell all the way down and it stopped raining AND she didn’t have a totem on her. Dream revived her, took away her trident for a week and refused to stop hugging her for a solid 15 minutes (she got annoyed and knee’d Dream in the gut to get him off)

-Dream cares about her more than he lets on.

-Her mask has a crack through it in the same place she has her scar, because she thinks the scar makes her look cool, so she broke her mask and fixed it to mirror the look on the plaster.

-She likes apples a lot. No particular reason other than the crunch and the juice.

-Eret once surprised her with her own gallon of apple juice and she has threatened to kill anyone who tries to hurt him. So far, no one except Quackity has died because of that. ^^^Big Q thought she was lying so her punched Eret in the face and broke his nose while they (Eret, Drista and Q) were talking and Drista shoved him off a cliff.

-Dream has had to talk to her multiple times about fighting with people who even insult Eret. Eret tries to be a good influence and say that he can protect himself, but secretly he finds it adorable.

-Tommy and Drista have, AT LEAST ONCE, done that double-punch thing you always see in anime where the two people punch the one person at the same time, side-by-side.

-She doesn’t like Jack Manifold. No reason in particular. She just doesn’t like him.

-She’s very careless and has lots of scars from all sorts of adventures, most with Tommy.

-Sometimes she’ll swap her’s and Dream’s masks and see how long it takes him to notice. Her record is a week and a half. ^^^Her mask has 3 little dots around the outside of each eye to indicate eyelashes so she can tell their masks apart.

-Sometimes, while trident-flying, she’ll just drop Splash Potions of Instant Harming and see if they hit anyone. She’s done it several times and has only made enemies of Purpled, and BadBoyHalo so far (and Skeppy because he’s mad that she hurt BBH).

-When George is around, she likes to chase him with an assortment of deadly weapons/objects and see how long it takes before Dream or DreamXD intervenes. The record is ten (10) seconds. ^^^DreamXD swooped in once and almost killed her before realizing who she was. She got another scar on her shoulder from narrowly avoiding the axe he blindly swung at her.

-She once lavacasted The Egg and it pissed BBH off but he doesn’t know who did it.

-She’ll cut the Blood Vines in front of BBH and when she’s yelled at to stop, she just stares Bad in the eyes and drops the pieces into a lava bucket and laugh at Bad getting mad at her.

-She actually almost got ‘possessed’ by The Egg. Bad convinced her to at least come look at it, because she doesn’t come around a lot. When she got close to it, The Egg opened and Bad pushed her into it. She curled up into a ball and whenever she tells the story, she leaves out the part when she cried and screamed for Dream. ^^^Because she’s connected to Dream, he heard her and almost killed Bad to get her location out of him. When he finally DID get it, he almost killed Bad AGAIN, but refrained and went to save her. She was passed out when Bad let him in and Dream was taking care of her for 3 days before she finally woke up. The Egg and Bad are the only things she’s SERIOUSLY afraid of.

-She likes to talk to Puffy, especially about The Egg thing, because it gave her endless visions in the small time (10 minutes) she was in there, about what it could give her, and the havoc it could wreak if she refused.

-Puffy is the only person, aside from Dream, that has seen her cry.

-Like I said before, she’s reckless, and will not hesitate to steal something valuable from someone and then jump off a cliff with it to escape the person. And since she has a totem at almost all times, she just resurrects when she hits the bottom.

-She doesn’t like Mamacita, simply because she’s associated with Quackity and he punched Eret. Same goes for Mexican Dream, although she tolerates him a little more cuz hes’s funny.

-She secretly likes riding on Dream’s shoulders and back.

-She’s vandalized the Prime Path before, just to hear Tommy yell. She’s also insulted Vikkstar multiple times and ended up getting into a fistfight with Tommy while Ranboo just stood and watched.

-Tubbo once offered her his last apple because he knew she liked them and she refused, letting him have it, but secretly hid a totem under his pillow. It was used in like, a week though, because he tried to MLG water with Fundy.

-Neither she nor Tommy are good at comforting people, but when one is upset and obviously wants company but doesn’t ask for it, the other will just sit on the other side of the room and stay until the one crying feels better.

-Once while trident-flying with Tommy and Tubbo, Tommy’s trident broke and he started to fall. Drista threw her totem at him and he caught it and lived, but it stopped raining and luckily, she and Tubbo managed to land in a pond.

- Dream rarely lets her go trident-flying anymore because she has horrible luck with the weather.

-When Dream cheated on Fundy, she smacked Dream and ended up breaking his arm, didn’t speak to him for a month and helped Fundy and Eret make his life hell. Also the reason she torments George whenever he’s around.

-If she, Dream, and Tommy, happening to be hanging out, one of them will sometimes whisper “Operation: Fork is a go” and they’ll both chase Dream down with tridents. He expects it now, though and always just splashes them with weakness and slowness and makes his escape.

There will probably be more in the future but that’s it for now :)

#Username's Headcanons #Dream Team SMP #Dream SMP #DreamWasTaken #Drista #TommyInnit #Dream Headcanons #Drista headcanons #Dream SMP Headcanon #MCYT #MCYT Headcanons

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onecanonlife · 3 years

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careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 7,295

Chapter Warnings: swearing, injury, blood, aftermath of (temporary) character death, mild disassociation, slight s.uicidal ideation, references to past abuse

Chapter Summary: The emotional fallout is intense, but they don’t have time to stop and deal with it. Wilbur doesn’t particularly like where they decide to hole up, but beggars can’t be choosers.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Twelve: nowhere to run

The sun is too bright in his eyes. Too bright, and wrong, somehow, that it should be shining like this. Should still be shining, after the loss they’ve just suffered, after watching his brother crumple to dust in front of him. But the sun hardly cares for things like that, so they all stumble out of the hole in the ground that serves as the entrance to the spider spawner and beyond, and the daylight surrounds them, unforgiving.

“Where do we go, what do we do,” Tubbo is chanting, and Ranboo is muttering under his breath, a continuous litany of, “I can’t believe he’s gone, I can’t believe that happened—” His own lips feel glued shut, his throat devoid of sound. His skin buzzes.

(the two images interpose: Techno hanging from the vine, head at an unnatural angle, Techno wavering on his feet, blood pouring from his throat, and there is a flash of light and there is ash all at once, as if the first caused the second, as if instead of healing him, shoving his soul back into a body clinging to life, the totem burned him up from the inside out, and unlike the phoenix there was no rebirth)

“We can’t stay here,” Puffy says. Her eyes are wide, and her hands are shaking, but her voice has the same determined cant to it as it always does. ��We need somewhere to hole up.”

“And where is that supposed to be?” Sapnap demands. His breathing is unsteady. “Where the fuck are we supposed to go after that? Where isn’t the thing gonna be able to reach? With, with Dream being, being, what even was that? Why was he—how was he—?” He breaks off, sparks crackling at his fingertips, and his face is a mask of distress, of questions

(was he always like that and did I not see or did something happen to him did something make him like that is that my friend or is there something inside of him something behind his eyes that is not him at all and if that is the case how did I not notice how did I not notice how did I not save him)

that Wilbur feels he recognizes. Or would, if he let himself. If he let himself care.

His eyes drift over to Phil. Phil, who stands silently, blood dripping from his wings, a thousand old injuries reopened by thrashing thorns. Who stands with Tommy in his arms, Tommy, who is curled up as tightly as he can reasonably manage, his face tucked into Phil’s shirt. Trembling. Quiet.

(he will die and I will kill him, the Egg says, and I have already begun, and you cannot protect him, you do not have the strength, except by what I can grant you)

“Church Prime,” Puffy says. “It’s the only place that might be safe.”

“Who’s to say it would be?” Sapnap snaps. “You saw it in there! The vines have never moved like that before, and Prime knows what else it can do now. And maybe the Egg wouldn’t be able to get in, but who’s to say that would stop—” He cuts off again, face contorting.

His leg is beginning to hurt, now. All of him is, actually, now that his adrenaline is wearing thin, now that the horror is sinking in, but it’s concentrated in his leg in particular, and he looks down to see that his left pant leg is all but shredded, blood dripping down in steady streams and splattering on the grass by his feet. The vines got him worse than he thought, then, and he bites his lip against the sting.

He’s had worse, though. He’s had so much worse. This is practically nothing, and Puffy and Sapnap are still arguing, and Tubbo and Ranboo are huddled together, eyeing the vines around them with deep suspicion, unmoving as they are just yet, and Phil is silent, and he’s going to stay silent, because Wilbur recognizes all too well the strain in his eyes, the way he’s holding onto Tommy with a death grip.

(he’s watched two of his sons die, now, and Techno will be back, will still have two lives left, but that does not heal the hurt, does not assuage the pain of seeing your brother, your son, your family die in front of your eyes before you can lift a finger to stop it, and Phil’s eyes shine with a grief almost beyond what Wilbur can understand. except he understands all too well, in the end)

He’s had worse, and someone needs to step up.

(the old mantle settles across his shoulders, and if he closes his eyes it’s like nothing’s changed at all, and the sun sets on the city he is determined to give everything for, still standing, walls still strong)

“Boxed in like a fish,” he croaks, and Puffy and Sapnap turn to him as one. “That’s what we’ll be, if we go to Church Prime. Whether it protects us in the moment of not won’t matter once we run out of supplies. We need somewhere better situated. Somewhere we can defend, that might withstand a siege, if it comes to it.”

Puffy makes a frustrated gesture. “I’m open to suggestions,” she says. “The prison, maybe, if we have to? We could probably keep people out as easily as—ah, shit, Sam.” She pulls her communicator out and taps out a quick message, and then frowns. “It’s telling me it can’t go through. Why isn’t it going through? Sam had all three lives, he should be—”

“Admins can read private messages,” Phil murmurs. “Wouldn’t surprise me if Dream could fuck with the whole system, whatever the fuck he is.”

Wilbur reads between the lines. Techno, for the moment, is unreachable. He processes the information and moves on, refusing to let it get to him, refusing to let himself be overpowered by

(Techno’s unreachable Techno’s unreachable Techno’s respawned and he’s on his own and they can’t talk to him can’t get to him quickly and what if something went wrong what if something happened)

emotions.

“Sam will make his way to us,” he says. “I’m vetoing the prison. Like hell are we staying in there. Other thoughts?”

“What gives you vetoing power?” Sapnap asks.

“Somebody needs to make a decision,” he says, and it is with strength he doesn’t feel, confidence he is only pretending at, a force of command that comes from some unknown place, since he feels as though he is miles away from himself, “and I don’t see you coming up with anything. Either help or stop complaining.”

Sapnap’s face reddens, and he opens his mouth, to argue, no doubt, but then Ranboo breaks in with, “Foolish, maybe?” and hunches his shoulders when attention turns to him. “Sorry, it’s just, I’m pretty sure Foolish isn’t, um, a big fan of the Egg or anything, so maybe he could help?”

Wilbur has no idea who the fuck Foolish is.

“Nah, he’s too far out,” Tubbo says. “It’ll take ages to get to his place. And we need somewhere close, but not too close, so we still have a good place to fight back from, right, Wilbur? If we leave now, the Egg’ll just take over the whole SMP with nothing to stop it.”

“My thoughts exactly, Tubbo,” he says, and again, it is just like the old days, and they are standing atop the L’Manberg walls, and Tubbo has just said something particularly clever, and warmth and pride curl in him before he remembers where they are, what they’re doing. They need to decide, and soon. They’re just hanging around near the entrance, and sooner or later, someone’s going to come after them, whether they let them go at first or not. “Is there anyone else who has a good position, location-wise and resource-wise?”

“Wait,” Puffy says. “Eret’s castle.”

“Eret’s castle doesn’t have doors,” Sapnap says.

“No, but I stopped by earlier to see if they wanted to join us,” Puffy says. “They weren’t there, but the grounds were completely free of vines. And sure, there aren’t any doors, but between all of us, I’m sure we could make some. Eret’s got plenty of supplies, last I checked.”

Eret. The name evokes a wealth of associations, most of them unpleasant. His first instinct is to reject this idea like the last, to avoid placing their lives in the hands of one who has already betrayed him, who led them all into a death trap, who almost ended their revolution in one fell swoop. But Puffy has a point. Eret’s castle ticks all the right boxes: it’s defendable, well-supplied, and if there are no vines to clear, all the better. They’ll have to build doors, but between the lot of them, that’s easily manageable.

(a wealth of associations and many unpleasant but there is Eret offering them supplies offering their fragile rebellion help and they tried so dearly to redeem themself and he could not have seen that then wrapped in his own shadows as he was but perhaps he can see it now perhaps he can better appreciate it, give a little more benefit of the doubt, and if he is given a second chance after everything after committing the worst crime of all then who is he to deny them absolution?)

(another memory, more blurry: he is scared but stalwart as they go through the motions, and he does not want to die, is terrified of that endless void, but he knows that the server needs a leader and his living self must be that leader, and Eret is here, and Eret agrees, and Eret acts out their part, and Eret is trying so hard, and he cannot see their eyes behind their glasses but he imagines that if he could, he would see a fool’s hope in them)

“Eret, then,” he says. “We go to Eret.”

And no one disagrees. It’s strange. They have no reason to listen to him, really. They have far more reasons not to listen to him, more reasons to think that following his lead will end in disaster than otherwise. But Puffy nods, and Sapnap backs down, and Tubbo and Ranboo both look to him for direction like it’s the war and he’s in charge of child soldiers once again. Phil looks to him, too, but his expression is inscrutable, and only a slight tightness around his eyes shows that he’s in any pain at all.

So they go to Eret. Staggering through the grass, tripping over vines that still don’t move, thank Prime, and then along the Prime Path, and his leg hurts worse with every step, pain jolting up into his hip, it seems, and it’s not long before he’s walking with a limp. But they’re all hurt in some way, so he hides it as best he can. He can deal with it when they’re safely behind stone walls.

And then, Tommy says, “Put me down, I can walk.”

Wilbur glances over. Tommy’s face is still buried in Phil’s shirt.

“You sure, mate?” Phil asks softly.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” Tommy snaps, louder now, turning his face outward, pushing against Phil’s chest. His cheeks are flushed, his breaths coming short and fast, and he’s trying to pass it off as anger, and maybe part of it is. But Wilbur knows him better than to think that that’s all. Knows him better than to think that he would have let Phil carry him in the first place if he was alright.

“Okay, then,” Phil says, and swings Tommy down. Tommy wavers for a step, but slaps away Phil’s hand when he extends it, muttering a sharp, “Fuck off.”

And then they keep going. Tommy doesn’t say anything else. Wilbur keeps glancing at him, but he’s refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, even Tubbo’s. And—that’s another thing that’s going to have to wait. He wants nothing more than to stop now and make sure that Tommy’s going to be okay, but they don’t have time, and the general in him will not call for a halt until the retreat is over, until he is sure the enemy is not biting at their heels.

(retreating from Dream once again, and it is familiar and not, the same and not, and history runs in a circle, echoes and rhymes)

Eret’s courtyard is indeed free of vines, just as Puffy promised. Wilbur half-expects them to be nowhere in sight, based on what Puffy said, but they are standing right there, next to a skeletal horse they’re frantically saddling, and they’re checking their communicator every now and again, with the jerky motions of someone who doesn’t particularly want to but can’t make themself stop.

Then, suddenly, they look up at the sky. Wilbur follows their gaze to the flock of crows wheeling overhead, a dark mass of beating wings, each bird barely distinguishable from the others. All of them completely, eerily silent.

Eret stands there a moment. Just staring. Wilbur can’t tell what the look on their face is, but their shoulders are tense. And then, they look back down, and realize that the lot of them are there, stumbling in under the gate, and they visibly startle.

“Hey, Eret,” Puffy says, before they can get a word in. “Can we crash? And build some gates?”

“What,” Eret says. “What is—Puffy, what is going on? How did Dream manage to kill Sam and Technoblade? Is he—” They run a hand through their hair, and then start striding forward, their cape flaring out behind them. They haven’t said anything about him yet, haven’t reacted to his presence. “He’s out, isn’t he? I was going to come and see, but he’s out?”

“He’s out,” Puffy agrees. “We were kind of hoping you’d help us out on this one.”

“Of course,” they say quickly. “Of course, anything you—anything you need.” They’re rattled, clearly, more than Wilbur has ever seen them, perhaps. “I just—how did this happen? I thought the prison was secure, I thought—are you all okay?”

“Aside from the obvious?” Puffy says. “Yeah, we’re great. You haven’t been around much lately, I don’t know how much you know about the Egg and all of that, but that’s an issue too, along with Dream. And some other stuff that I’ve got no idea about, that we really just kind of need to all sit down and talk about.”

“The Egg? I’ve—I’ve heard of it, I think. I’ve been elsewhere for a while.” Their lips twist into a smile that isn’t quite a smile. “Doing a bit of soul-searching, you might say. Found more questions than answers, unfortunately. Alright. I can get you all whatever you need, you can absolutely stay here if that’s what you’d like, but what was that about gates?”

Right. This is taking too long.

Wilbur still feels a bit outside of his body as he steps forward, but that’s alright. He’s limping, but the pain is distant, and he can let his brain work on autopilot, let his mouth move on its own without regarding the consequences, without thinking too much about

(this is Eret and you know them and they betrayed you and you hurt them and now you’re back and here is a test here is a true test it shouldn’t matter how they react to you you shouldn’t care for their opinion but you do you know you do though you pretend you don’t pretend they’re nothing but a traitor to you but you are a traitor to yourself and you know that between the two of you you are the worse and here you both are and you only need one more and everyone will be back together again like the old days like the old days those good old days)

what happens next.

“Right, then,” he says, straightening his spine and stepping up to be visible just behind Puffy, to the side and a few feet back. Eret’s head whips toward him. “To summarize: the Egg is bad, Dream is also bad, they’re now working together, also with Bad, Techno is gone, we’re all in rough shape, a mind-controlling potentially demonic entity is likely to try to take over the server, and also, I’m here, despite my best efforts. Does that paint enough of a picture for you, or should I elaborate further?”

Eret stares at him. He stares back, doesn’t let himself fidget. He’s putting the general on display, and it has never felt more like a disguise, like yet another mask,

(and didn’t he tell Tommy he wasn’t going to do this anymore?)

but a familiar one, one that’s almost comfortable. He can force himself into the general’s shoes and worry about tactics and battles and numbers and strategy, and tuck the rest of himself away for when there’s time for it. Can think of this as just another alliance to be made, a debriefing to be held rather than

(Eret traitor friend ally enemy the place in your heart is curdled and sour and you do not know if you are capable of starting anew)

and his losses are statistics and cold facts rather than

(Techno’s eyes golden and glittering and then they go dim and pale red pale and staring the light in your brother’s eyes gone out and it is not the first time you have watched a brother die in front of you but Technoblade never dies is never supposed to die never to go to dust never and you cannot make sense of it cannot make sense of the world turned on its head)

“Wilbur?” Eret asks, after a very long moment, and he doesn’t understand why their voice breaks in the way that it does. “You’re—it’s you? Not Ghostbur?”

He spreads his arms, lifting an eyebrow.

“Do I look like Ghostbur to you?” he asks.

“No,” Eret answers right away. “No, that you do not. Um, has this been a thing, or…?” They trail off, and Wilbur can’t figure out exactly what their feelings are, but it’s too late to back down, even if he wanted to.

“For a bit,” he says. “Not for too long. Can we move on? We’ve got bigger issues to deal with at the moment.”

He means multiple things, with that. He means, there’s bigger things to worry about than why I’m here. He means, there’s bigger things to worry about than our history, and as so long as we’re on the same side for the moment, it can’t matter right now. He doesn’t know if Eret catches all of that, but whether they do or not, they nod, seeming to steady themself.

“Of course,” they say. “I—for the record, it is good to see you, Wilbur.” There is genuine relief in their voice, a tone that says they’re actually glad he’s here, more than glad, even, and he really doesn’t have time to unpack that at the moment. They need a plan, and fast, and they need some goddamn gates. And medical attention, probably. The cut on Puffy’s head looks nasty, and Phil’s wings are still dripping blood, and it’s difficult for Wilbur to look at them for too long,

(grief rises up guilt rises up crushing choking your father is grounded and it is your fault)

but it concerns him, how little Phil appears to care for their current state. So there’s that to handle, and it’s almost too much, almost. Almost too much for someone who has spent the majority of the time since he’s been brought back to life cringing away from meeting people, all the confidence he once displayed gone, shrinking, left in the void or in Pogtopia or on the podium from which he announced his own defeat, perhaps. But even still, he remembers how to be the general. He can hide in the general, present the general on the outside, be useful even while he thinks he might be on the verge of collapse, internally. He has been a general, and so he shall be again.

What comes first, then?

He pulls out his comm, scrolling through the messages. There are quite a few in the general chat from just after Sam’s death message, people from all over the server demanding to know what’s going on. His eyes drift over Techno’s, then, and he winces, but keeps reading. There are even more messages after that, capitalization usage increasing dramatically, and his eyes trace over familiar names, a pang in his heart. Niki. Fundy. Quackity. Several from Eret as well. Some from names he doesn’t recognize, like this Foolish person, and someone named Hannah.

But then, they all cut off. There have been none in the past half hour. Since they escaped from the Egg.

Out of curiosity, he taps out a few words: dream and egg have teamed, regrouping at eret’s. Upon hitting send, the screen goes fuzzy, giving him an error message he’s never seen before. So comms truly are down, then, and it’s probably just as well; Dream likely knows where they are, but if he doesn’t, there’s no reason to give him the information.

(and do these old allies old friends deserve to learn of your return from cold words on a screen do you not have the courage to face them yourself face your son your son you have not seen your son)

(the last time he spoke to Fundy, he disowned him. he doesn’t know if he still has a son)

(if he does not, he has no one to blame for himself, and perhaps that is why he is too cowardly to check)

“Right, then,” he says, looking back up. “Gates are the first priority. They might not do much against whatever the fuck that thing is, but it’s better than nothing. Eret, I assume you’d know the best way to go about it?”

Eret’s lips quirk into a slight smile, one that is, perhaps, slightly sardonic.

“It is my castle,” they agree. “The more hands I have, the quicker it will go, but I can get it done.”

“Anyone who’s not bleeding profusely, help them with that, then,” he says. “Anyone who is bleeding profusely—I assume you’ve got pots somewhere, Eret?” Eret nods, gesturing toward the inside. “Anyone who is bleeding profusely gets a pot. Once we’ve got that all covered, we’ll reconvene, come up with a plan for where to go from here. Everyone got that?”

He gets a few nods, and no one dissents, so he’ll take that as a yes. His gaze travels to the kids then, standing clumped together, and Tommy’s eyes are still shadowed, and Tubbo is shifting his weight between his feet, and Ranboo looks lost, awkward, and he wishes he didn’t have to ask anything more of them. But that’s not how wars work, and this has certainly turned into a war.

(child soldiers once again, and how history echoes)

“Tubbo, Ranboo, I want you on the gates as well,” he says, and tries to soften his tone at least a little bit, even if that’s all he can do. “And then afterward—Tubbo, I need you to go through with all of us exactly what you know about—what did you call them? Dreamons?”

Tubbo looks slightly miserable, but he nods. “Right,” he says. “I can try to ward the gates if you want. With, um, anti-demon stuff. I don’t know if it’ll work. I guess last time we didn’t manage to do much of anything at all.”

“Anti-what,” Eret says, but Wilbur shakes his head.

“We don’t have time for that. Tubbo will explain later. We—”

“The fuck am I supposed to do, then?” Tommy breaks in, crossing his arms. “You haven’t given me a job.” He glares, but it is so very obvious that it’s all a front, all a show, and Tommy’s expression dares him to challenge him, but Wilbur thinks that if he does, he just might break something in him. Tommy has always been so much more fragile than he presents himself as, so much more fragile than he likes to believe he is.

(despite it all, despite it all, he is only sixteen, only a child, a child grown old before his time but a child nonetheless, and now a child who watched his brother die for him, an estranged brother perhaps but still a brother, and Tommy has always cared so much and so deeply, no matter how much he pretends otherwise)

He hasn’t given Tommy a job, and he doesn’t really intend to, because Tommy, of all people, needs to sit the fuck down and rest for a moment. They all deserve a break, but in this moment, Tommy is the one who needs it most, and also the one least likely to accept as much.

If the general gives the order, Tommy will follow it, he knows that much,

(because he made his brother into a soldier he made his brother into a soldier and soldiers follow orders)

even if he’ll be angry at him for it, but Tommy angry with him is a sacrifice he’s willing to make. And perhaps directing his anger at him will help. Perhaps it would be better for Tommy to be angry with someone within reach rather than someone out of it.

(because Tommy is hurting, and the cause of that hurt is not here, and so perhaps if Wilbur offers himself he’ll feel better, will feel more in control, because Tommy needs control, because his abuser is out, is wandering free, and his abuser has killed their brother and told him that it is his fault)

But then, Phil breaks his silence.

“I’d like him to stick with me,” he says, with a smile that is obviously strained. “I’m not going to be able to reach everything myself.” He makes a vague gesture toward his wings, still dripping blood, and there is so much of it already drying on his feathers, sticky, tacky, almost blending in with the darkness of the feathers

(but stark against the grey-white of exposed bone)

“Why the actual shit—” Tommy starts.

“Good idea, Phil,” he cuts him off. “Tommy, help him with the wings, would you?”

“Why do I have to—”

“You too, Wil,” Phil says, and his mood sours immediately. “You think I don’t see that leg? C’mon, Eret, show us to the pots.”

When faced with that, he has no choice but to agree, really.

(he wouldn’t have ignored it. he wouldn’t have. He knows better than to leave a wound untreated in wartime. Even if something whispers at him that he deserves the pain, even if the bite of it brings him closer to reality. But his better sense knows: pain is not the penance that is asked of him, not a recompense that will do anyone any good)

**********

They meet again half an hour later in Eret’s throne room. Half an hour later, and his leg is bandaged and tender and no longer an open wound, and Tommy is frowning and refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, and the state of Phil’s wings is still bothersome, because he didn’t let either of them touch them beyond what was necessary,

(and he recollects countless nights spent running his fingers through soft, silken feathers as his father told him how to preen them, told him that it was a sign of trust, an activity that only family, only flock is allowed, and now Phil will no longer let them near him, will no longer even take care of them himself and it makes him sick to his stomach to think of what has been lost)

but they are no longer bleeding, and that has to be what matters.

The throne room is not the best location for this, he thinks. It feels awkward. But it’s a room big enough to fit everyone, which is the point, big enough to fit Puffy, presence looming and forehead now bandaged, to fit Sapnap, fidgety as he is, like a caged, snarling animal, all restless energy. Big enough for Tubbo, for Tommy, for Ranboo, for Phil, for Eret and for himself, and big enough that there is an obvious gap at Phil’s right side where someone else should be standing.

Eret eyes her throne, glances at everyone else in the room, and then seats herself at its base. It’s a pithy gesture, meaningless, but Wilbur has more important things to do than to call her out on it, even though the existence of the throne itself grates against him.

“Let’s call this meeting to order, then,” he says, and Eret frowns. Perhaps she doesn’t like that he’s calling the shots in her own

(ill-gotten, dearly kept)

castle, but tough. He’s brought out the general for all of their sakes, so the general is what they’re all going to get.

(it’s a mask again and masks crack but he can keep it up for long enough he can he can they need a leader so he will lead he will lead them)

(you were so good at compartmentalizing, once, go good at shoving it all away in boxes in dark shadowy corners never to be opened to gather dust and cobwebs and faded recollections but the boxes cracked and the demon’s escaped and Pandora was too weak to stop them and it all ended in a bang and he cannot tell if hope remains but that isn’t the point because the box is opened and once opened it is not so easily closed and you are putting on a show a lie and lies come back around again they always do and you should know better than to pretend at strength you do not have you will lead them to ruin again ruin and gunpowder smoke and what gives you the right)

“Yeah, alright,” Puffy says. “Can we start by talking about—whatever that was? What were you talking about, dreamons? What’s a dreamon?”

“That sounds like a made up word,” Tommy mutters.

“I wish it were made up,” Tubbo says, and he winces when all eyes turn to him. But a moment later, he straightens, setting his shoulders squarely, holding his head up high. “I’ll tell you all what I know. Even if that turns out to be not as much as I thought.” He pauses, clearly struggling for words.

“Start from the beginning,” he suggests, and Tubbo nods at him gratefully.

“Okay, right, the beginning,” he says. “In the very beginning, me and Fundy were messing around, and we found some old books. We went through them for a laugh, and we learned about these things called dreamons.”

“Wait, that’s what they’re actually called?” Tommy interjects. “Like, properly?”

Tubbo shrugs. “It’s what the books said,” he says. “We weren’t about to argue over names. Even if it did seem like a weird coincidence. But yeah, that’s what they’re called.” His voice falls into an odd cadence here, recitative, like he’s telling a story, and Wilbur crosses his arms, gripping at his elbows. “They come from the darkness of the void, lurking around the edges of a server’s code. Once they get in, their only goal is to cause chaos and destruction. They corrupt everything they touch, and they can possess people and turn them into their puppets. They have unknowable powers, because they’re a sickness, a rot, like an infection in the code of the server itself. It’s really, really difficult to get rid of them, but it can be done if you have the right tools. Or—” He blinks, stuttering a bit, his voice landing more naturally. “We thought so, anyway.”

“What does this have to do with Dream?” Sapnap asks, stopping his pacing, looking to Tubbo with an expression in his eyes that hurts to look at, a bit, wobbly and desperate and pinched, like he already knows the answer but hopes that he’s wrong, hopes as much as he is able, even though he knows it will be fruitless.

Wilbur has put the pieces together. As best he can, anyway. And Sapnap’s not a stupid man. He can see where this is leading.

“Dream got possessed.” Tubbo sighs, gaze drifting toward the floor. “It was a whole thing. Honestly, we were surprised nobody else noticed. But we—we performed an exorcism. And it was really scary, to be honest. But it worked. We could see it leave, all oozy and black and gross, and Dream was better afterward! He was! So we thought we got it out.”

“But it tricked you?” he asks.

“I don’t understand how it could have,” Tubbo replies. “It’s not—it’s not like the kind of possession that you see in a TV show, where the demon can pretend to be the person or something like that. It’s obvious. It’s too—it’s too wrong to blend in, if that makes sense. It made his voice go all funny and deep, and the way it moved—” He shudders, and then continues, miserably, “The way it moved, there’s no way you could mistake something like that for a human. That’s why we were so sure it worked. Because afterward, he seemed back to normal.”

Something about this doesn’t make sense.

“Tubbo,” he says, wheels spinning in his mind, “when was this?”

Tubbo blinks. “Manberg days,” he says. “Um, that’s why we never told you about it, I suppose.”

He barely bats an eye at the reference. It doesn’t make sense. Because he has sensed that wrongness, as Tubbo puts it, has been sensing it from the moment he set foot in that prison cell for the first time. On some level, he knew that something was deeply wrong, even if a demonic presence was the last thing he would have guessed. But if the whole thing happened during—during that time, and the signs of possession were as obvious as Tubbo says, he would have noticed, wouldn’t he? He had plenty of interactions with Dream during that time.

(unless his own shadows stretched long, stretched far enough to cover Dream’s, to cover the thing piloting him)

But no—his shadows were of his own making, not supernatural. If anything, his mindset should have made him more receptive to suspicious wrongness, not less. So what—

(Dream smiles, and you know what it’s like, to have something whispering in your head, he says, once you let something in, there’s no going back)

“Maybe the first bit was a fakeout,” Phil suggests, arms folded, head tilted. He’s perplexed, which is worrying; it’s rare to come across a being that Phil knows nothing about. “It made itself obvious to lure you in so it could slip under the radar. Faked leaving to put your guard down, maybe.”

It’s plausible. But somehow

(and Dream stands atop the Egg and he says, he says, I tried to fight at first, but it turns out it was right all along, and he says it he says it like it’s separate from him like there is not something else something other speaking from his mouth after all and he tried to fight it he tried to fight it and what does that mean)

“They’re the same,” he breathes, and doesn’t know what he means, not quite yet, “they’re the same, and the Egg controls people, and he was talking about fighting something, about giving in—”

He runs a hand through his hair. Shakes his head.

“Wil?” Phil asks.

“Oi, Wilbur,” Tommy says, almost at the same time. But he needs to—he needs to focus as the pieces click into place, faster than he can process, and he has a conclusion but not the words yet—

He holds up a hand.

“Tubbo,” he says, “you said it can corrupt things. What did you mean by that?”

“I dunno, really,” he says. “It talked about it in the books some, but it was all weird metaphorical language. Couldn’t really makes sense of it. We were more focused on the bits that told us how to get rid of them.”

(he says, you know what the void is like, and Tubbo says that they come from the void, and)

That’s alright. He’s not sure he needs a hard answer to that, because he thinks that if one were to describe the feeling of the corruption, it would be

(it is dark and it is peaceful and there is static at the edges eating away at what makes him himself eating at his soul at his sense of self and it is what he wants, to be nothing, and he does not imagine what it would feel like if it were not what he desired, if he tried to resist it, resist the void all-consuming, all-devouring, resist the void that takes all things into itself and is never satiated)

something familiar.

“Alright,” he says, and steeples his fingers together. “Let me paint a picture for you. Someone gets possessed. You exorcise the thing. But these things can corrupt, you say. So maybe you get rid of the thing itself. Maybe Dream’s pretty much back to normal. But maybe it leaves little bits of itself behind. Maybe he’s not possessed, but maybe that doesn’t matter so much anymore. Maybe it changed him regardless. Maybe it’s still changing him, even though it’s no longer there. Maybe a corruption took root, and there wasn’t any going back from it.” He tilts his head, closes his eyes. “Suppose that the Egg is the same type of thing. Something that forced its way through the cracks of the server, something that’s been smart about it, biding its time. The things that Dream was saying reminded me a lot of what the Egg was doing, you know? Manipulating people, making them into things they aren’t, or into their worst selves.”

He strings the words together as he goes. He’s not sure he’s getting his point across. He used to be so much better at this.

“Wait, so you’re saying you think he isn’t possessed?” Sapnap asks.

“I’m saying we don’t really know,” he answers. “Not unless we get it from him. But Tubbo’s the expert here, and if he says Dream’s not acting like he’s possessed, I believe him. But even if he’s not possessed outright, that doesn’t mean there’s no—influence, perhaps.” He keeps his eyes shut; the darkness on the back of his eyelids is a natural one, but he can almost pretend that it isn’t. That it is darker, deeper.

(void)

“He was right that I know what it’s like,” he says. “I’ve felt the Egg in my head. And I was in the void for—a long time. It felt like forever. I know what it feels like, and there’s some of it in him, I think. Him and the Egg both. They’re the same kind of wrong, the same kind of unbelonging. I’ve never been possessed by a demon before, but if it’s made up of void stuff, that’s the sort of thing that stays with you. Whispering.”

He opens his eyes. Everyone is staring at him, varying expressions of horror on their faces.

He goes back over his words. In retrospect, he can see how they probably came off sounding.

“Wil,” Phil says softly.

“I’m fine,” he says, not at all convincingly, he’s sure.

(once he starts thinking of the void of the peace and of the rest it’s hard to stop even though his desires are now tinged with red and he knows better than to listen but he cannot help himself)

“This is all speculation, anyway,” he continues. “Might not matter at all, in the end, what the particulars are. We just need a way to stop them. Can dreamons be killed, Tubbo?”

Tubbo takes a moment before replying. “I don’t think so,” he says. “Fundy might remember better. But I think the only thing in what we read was the exorcism.”

“Which doesn’t help us much if Dream’s not actually possessed,” Puffy says. “Unless it might work on the Egg? If the Egg’s a—a dreamon too?”

“Worth a shot if we can get to it again,” he says, “but I don’t like risking so much on a maybe.”

“The less we mess with forces beyond our understanding, the better,” Eret says suddenly. She frowns, pushing her sunglasses further up her face. “As I said earlier, I’ve been away a good bit recently, so I haven’t been tracking the Egg’s progress as much as perhaps I should have. But I did notice an increase in activity—well. It was shortly after we tried to resurrect you, Wilbur.” She inclines her head toward him. “I fear that in our efforts, we might have interfered with something we shouldn’t have interfered with. Weakened a barrier of some kind, between our existence and—something else.”

She speaks with a strange kind of gravity. But her words make an unfortunate kind of sense.

He doesn’t look at Phil.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tommy states. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I’m with Tommy on this one. What are you talking about?” Sapnap adds.

“We’re getting off track,” he says, snapping his fingers. “We’re going about this wrong. We don’t have enough information, and we don’t have enough power. Those are our problems. How do we solve them?”

“The obvious would be to get the word out,” Puffy says. “Comms are down, but we can go by word of mouth if we have to. Kinda risky, with the amount of vines on this server, but the nether portal’s right across the way. No vines in the nether, I think.”

“I have lots of old books myself,” Phil chimes in, eyes skyward. “Might be something in there to help that I’ve read and forgotten about. And I’ve got another source of info I’ve barely begun to go through. Old shit I found. It might be worth a shot.” He looks back down. “We need to go get Techno anyway.” He says the last in a tone that brooks no argument, and Wilbur doesn’t try, even if it’s perhaps not the most tactically sound option.

(he wants Techno back too, wants to lay eyes on him, hold his wrist in his hand and count his heartbeats, each one a reassurance, because he knows what it is for a brother to die and come back but that has never made it easier)

“It’s better than nothing,” he says. “Alright, I’ve got a plan, then. Some of us go to the tundra, get Technoblade, and go through whatever books Phil has. Some stay here and fortify the defenses as best we can using what Tubbo can remember that he thinks might work, and a couple of us go around through the nether and tell as many people as possible what’s going on. Gather allies, resources anything else we might need.”

It’s not much of a plan. But based on just how outclassed they are, just how little they know, just how much exhaustion shows in their faces, it might be the best plan they’re going to get for now. To throw themselves back into a battle so soon would be folly.

It never sits well with him to bank so much on a hope, though, a mere possibility that things will go their way.

(but certainties were ripped out from under him the moment Dream killed the unkillable, the moment he saw his brother crumple to ash before his eyes)

“Great,” Puffy says, grimacing. “What could possibly go wrong with that?”

The silence that greets that statement serves perfectly well as a response.

He closes his eyes again. The darkness is no comfort.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #philza #tubbo #eret #ranboo #captain puffy #sapnap #alivebur #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #c!wilbur angst tag

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shyrose57 · 3 years

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Brothers anon. Sorry about the previous ask I get nervous easy and feel like I need to check im not annoying anyone at times. If I am ever annoying you though or you want me to do anything though please tell me!

Watson is close to everyone from the group, because he's seen as the dad figure and an easy person to talk too. Besides from that Jackie and Grievous are close and often train or play games together, and Jackie and Ran are close, they don't do much expect just hang out and since their both the youngest that helps them feel a bit closer. Ran and Grievous aren't really close, though Grievous wants to make attempts to become closer to Ran, potentially by inviting him to training sessions or game nights.

The other fighters from the Pit are still around! They mostly aren't around the Pit as they have jobs and other stuff to take care off, but they try to vist often. Like Genevieve and Levi come over on a regular basis to train with them all and just hang out. And sometimes Genevieve and Levi participate in the Pit's fights just for fun.

He was kept in a room in Mizu. The room was reminiscent of a jail cell, with no glass in it, and a door that required a key to be opened, he wasn't completely chained down but they did put cuffs on his wrists to prevent him from moving around to much. Benjamin honestly just kind of felt like something was off, because most people don't commit mass murder without a reason and he couldn't find a reason for Ranbob doing it. And he has reported multiple times (along with the others) feeling a strange weightless feeling near dreams room, almost like their getting sucked into a void, while also hearing a distant voice in their head calling them to come closer. When everyone said they heard the voice, with Ranbob even saying from where he was that he heard the voice but much clearer, and sometimes he feels like he doesn't control what he's doing. Benjamin and Isaac decided to block off the room and nearby rooms and made it a rule that if anyone heard the voice or felt like that to report it to them and where they felt it so ot could be blocked off.

Because Ranbob said he heard the voice too Benjamin started thinking that maybe Ranbob wasn't in control and there's something deeper going on. They specifically figure out its the mask when Charles finds it and brings it up to the group, where reports of the voices and feeling come back ten-fold, and even Ranbob who was starting to show progress and become a bit more willing to talk harshly backtracked to where he almost tried to attack anyone who came into the room. So Charles quickly puts it back as far from the group as possible, with Cletus following him to make sure he actually puts it back. Later they talk about destroying it but the question of what will happen to the possession on it stops them, as what if when they break it, the possession type thing (its not actually a possession I just forget the word oop), moves onto another object? Maybe even connect to them or Ranbob?

Ranbob does learn how to sew! Charles helps him learn actually and it helps the two get close! Cletus and Isaac are forbin as of now to return to Mizu, there are talks about going back later in time but for now everyone agreed it'd be best to hang back and avoid Mizu no matter what.

Life in the house is very hard to adjust to at first for Ranbob especially, its mostly awkward and learning boundaries. But after a few weeks to months living with the fishermen Ranbob becomes much more comfortable to open up a lot. Closest to Ranbob is definitely both Benjamin and Charles, as Benjamin is the one who recognized what was happening to Ranbob and Charles is the one who he spends most time with (mostly teaching Ranbob random skills).

Even after the fight ends Ran is still incredibly mad, and when Ranbob is so much as mentioned he growls and gets more aggravated. The fishermen are mostly surprised, Ranbob did mention there was a survivor that he remembers almost killing before they escaped, but because it seemed like a sensitive topic they never pressed him to tell them more. They never would've expected the survivor was his brother though. And the gladiators are completely surprised, expect Watson, Ran told Watson his past about Mizu and his brother (because I like to think Ran has night terrors due to Mizu and Watson is often the one to comfort him). Its only once Ranbob gets taken off to the medical bay and Ran goes to blow off steam in the training area the two sides talk. Where what they've been told is shared and connections and understandings are made. And they all manage to agree to try to get the brothers at least on talking terms, so they can talk about what happened and at least attempt to fix their relationship.

They are not! Other enderman hybrids do exist but their very rare due to complexity with passing the enderman genes. Though Ran and Ranbob did have a family of 6 they where apart of (the 2 other siblings where younger than them) but not every member had enderman genes.

They do notice how Jackie looks similar to Tubbo but they mostly just brush it off, as if Cletus takes off his head gear he looks like Quackity and of course Ranbob looks like Ranboo with the mix of black and white skin.

Hey, don’t worry about it, seriously. I do the same thing with people, so I kinda get it. I really do enjoy reading these, so really, I should be thanking you for sending them!

The bonds between everyone sound interesting. So Watson’s just generally the dad friend? How does he feel about that? Has he just unironically adopted all these dorks? Is it something of an inside joke? Jackie and Grievous sound like quite the combination. Honestly I can imagine these two either being very chill, or very chaotic, depending on the day. Ran and Jackie just hanging out sounds neat, what do they do together? Do they play games like Jackie does with Grievous, or do they just nap and cloud-watch, or something similar? And Grievous trying to bond with Ran sounds nice, how does that work out for him? Do they find some sort of activity that brings them closer?

I saw you mentioned Ran and Jackie were the youngest, which brings up two things. One, does the height difference remain? I’ve seen a lot of art depicting it as such, and honestly, the thought of some new fighters being tossed into a fight with these two, and A, seeing this short kid next to this ridiculously tall guy, and B, their expressions when being told Ran’s not an adult is very amusing to me.

And two, what exactly is the age limit for going into the Pit? It’s probably not incredibly young, but how old are Jackie and Ran to be stated as the youngest? In their early teens? Late? Older? What kind of rules are there in the fights, no deaths aside?

The other fighters still being around is pretty cool, how do they get along with the gladiators? I imagine fairly well, since you’ve said they hang out, but are they close with anyone is particular? And what exactly is the Pit, besides a tournament? Do people fight for money in there? Do they just fight to fight? Is it open to a lot of people?

So the fisherman hung around Mizu and talked to Ranbob? It must have been strange, seeing the change in their would-be murderer. It does bring up the question of how in control Ranbob was when he first met them. Was he relatively himself at the start, and only begin to fall more under Dream’s thrall later, or was he under it from the start? And how do the fishermen feel about this?

Actually, how young even is Ranbob? I believe you mentioned him to be Ran’s older(?) brother, but as previously said, Ran’s among the youngest of the gladiators, so how much older is Ranbob? How old was he when he was led to kill the residents of Mizu?

I believe the word you’re looking for is possibly spirit? I’m assuming? And yeah, pretty smart of them to get away from it. Do they ever end up dealing with that in the future, or is it a ‘let’s just agree to never go near that thing again.’ kinda deal?

Charles and Ranbob bonding! Very nice! What other skills does Charles have, and where’d he learn them? Actually, what’s the general backstory for the fishermen? Is it anything that could tie in later, or no?

But that adjustment period can’t be easy. As we saw, the fishermens’ house was pretty small, and for Ranbob, to go from literally being the only person there in a huge city, to such an arrangement, well. It can’t have been easy. How did it affect him, and how did the fishermen deal with it?

In relation, how did Ran deal with going from Mizu to outside it? I imagine the lifestyle was a bit different from what he was used to.

So the relationship isn’t so easily fixed, hm? Y’know, all things considered, that’s pretty fair. How do the two groups get along, once they’ve decided to get the two brothers back together? And what kind of plan do they come up with? Perhaps deciding to travel together? Or maybe stick around and fight more? How does that work out for them?

How does Ran feel about the brother that almost killed him being around his new family? And how does Ranbob feel about finding him again? Did he even think he was still kicking, or believe him to be dead?

So Endermen hybrids aren’t that common huh? Does that happen to be why Porkius was so interested in them? And are any of the fishermen or gladiators hybrids as well? Philza’s often shown with wings, and honestly, I’m curious to know if your AU’s Watson is a similar hybrid, or otherwise.

Also, how do the gladiators fight? Are there double battles and team ups? Is there anyone they fight better with? What’s their general strategy?

And how does Porkius feel about these new developments? Does he know? Help out, or let them sort it themselves? What’s going on with our resident king?

#dream smp #dream smp au #Brothers AU #tales from the smp #ranbob #cletus #isaac #charles #benjamin #jackie #ran #grievous #watson #porkius #the lost city of mizu #the pit

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

Lost in the Lightning Storm Ch. 1: Lightning in a Bottle

Summary: Henrik is a naturally curious person, and with there being something between him and Anti, he just wants to know what kind of person he’s dealing with.

Chapter: 1, 2

Henrik had more than a bit of a problem.

Anti had stopped making his presence so apparent, almost like he was trying to avoid Henrik but still watch him. It gave Henrik time to think about a lot of things. About what he wanted, and if even pursuing a relationship with him was even remotely a good idea.

The glitch demon was angry, violent, prone to random fits of destruction, and left gifts outside of Henrik’s office like a deranged cat. But he also saved Henrik from fights, wasn’t attacking him, and it was clear that although he left organs and teeth for Henrik that he meant for Henrik to actually like the gifts.

So Henrik was unsure of what to do about Anti. He was mostly curious about how a relationship like that would progress. But Anti had a history with the Septics that reminded Henrik that this tepid infatuation could end with Henrik’s blood and guts smeared all over the walls.

Henrik had spent a lot of time thinking about it as the gifts and stalking kept coming. So to clear his head, he headed towards the base.

The German doctor meant to find Logic, ask for some surveillance equipment, but when he walked into the comms room the Side wasn’t alone in the room. He was with Tubbo and Nate.

Logic was busy managing several different screens as the situation was calming down as Tubbo was holding some remote and shouting information into a headset. Both of them were on their feet. Nate was next to them, looking braced to rush out of the room.

Henrik paused as Logan fell back into his chair and let out a sigh of relief.

“Holy shit,” Tubbo commented, and started to drive his remote again. He was bringing his little bee drone back to him. What came back faster to him were three little bee familiars which buzzed around his head and settled into his suit. “That was ridiculous.”

“Now do you see why I keep you away from the Duke, his particular breed of unpredictability makes him exceedingly dangerous,” Logan explained.

“Is everything alright?” Henrik asked as he walked in.

“It is now,” Nate answered with a sigh of relief.

“Vat[1] happened?” Henrik looked at the screens.

“The Duke decided to live up to his title of “Intrusive Thoughts” and terrorize a baseball stadium full of people and make them hallucinate,” the logical Side explained. “At the most inopportune time, of course.”

“Of course,” Henrik rolled his eyes. Then he turned to Nate, “Ahhh, Nathan, it is so good to see you. It is a rare thing to see you in ze base zese days.[2]

“Been busy,” Nate commented. “Just wanted to meet the new guys, they seem alright.”

“Damn straight,” Tubbo smiled back at him, before continuing to pilot his bee drone back to him.

“Heard this place was haunted now,” Nate smiled.

“Ahh, yes,” Henrik smiled. “Big Man has a bro’zer currently viz Marvin. He calls himself Ghostbur und can phase z’rough valls.”[3]

“No shit, he like Big Man?” Nate smiled.

“Nein,”[4] Henrik smiled. “He vas[5] much calmer, und[6] quieter.”

“Really? That’s hilarious.” Nate laughed, but he was just staring at Tubbo, he seemed to be studying the young apprentice.

Henrik was about to leave and give up on his questions for another day. But Nate got up.

“Coffee?” Nate smiled.

Shrugging, Henrik followed but they didn’t go to the common room area for coffee, they left the base entirely.

“I like researching demons,” Nate told him, their topic veering to what Nate had been up to since Henrik had last gotten to sit down and talk to him, “and glitches have always been interesting to me. Even more so after I found out that Logic was a demon. I used to think they were all chaos incarnate, and they are, but they’re more than that. Logic is a way different demon than Anti, and both of them are different from the Jims, who I’m fairly certain are just super weird glitches.”

“Really?” Henrik asked, confused.

“Yeah,” Nate smiled as they kept walking down the road to this little coffee shop. “Makes me really glad I started distancing myself from the hunters. The only research they care about is if it makes killing demons easier or safer for them.”

“So you wish to become a university professor on ze[7] demons?” Henrik smiled.

“Dude, if that was possible, I would,” Nate promised. “The process from a human soul to a demon one. What they lose? What they gain? Can you predict who’s actually going to turn into a demon? What type of demon are they going to turn into?”

They took the time to get their coffees and take their seats outside the coffee shop as Henrik thought about Nate’s words. “I assume zat[8] you have taken copious notes about ze[7] demons already in Egoton?”

“Course I have,” Nate smiled. “As much as I was able.”

“Vat[1] do you know about Anti?” Henrik asked. “I know vat he is now, but vat about before. Vho vas he before he vas a demon?”[9]

“Huh,” Nate let out a loud puff of air and tapped his fingers to his coffee mug. “Never tried to look him up that far back.”

The singer looked down at his coffee before looking back up in thought. “I think Mare said something about Anti being a little over a century old. That’s probably just in demon years, so who knows how old he was when he actually died. But he’s a glitch demon so . . .”

Nate let out another pensive breath of air, rubbing the inside corners of his eyes, “He was probably killed by lightning. But that was around the same time as an industrial revolution so he could have died in a factory accident and still turned into a glitch. His turning would have probably been sometime in the early 1900’s, late 1800’s maybe.”

“Und[6] could he be found?” Henrik asked.

Nate looked a little concerned, “Maybe, finding him would definitely be easier than finding Dark or Mare. They’re older than him and Anti is also a glitch so that narrows it down. Even if he did die in a factory accident.”

“I cannot imagine a vorld vere he did not get into some type of trouble viz ze law,”[10] Henrik commented, pushing up his glasses.

“Yeah that might make it easier,” Nate agreed. “Usually a soul doesn’t change too much from how it used to be in life. There’s some drift but not too much.”

“Yes, but—” Henrik thought out loud before Mare seemed to appear out of nowhere and turned over a bag of cookies right into Nate’s lap.

“The fuck are you doing?” Nate shouted.

“Shut up and eat them, you still reek,” Mare spat at him, digging some loose cookies still in the bag and pushing them into Nate’s hands. “Anything’s better than how you smell right now.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Nate tossed the cookies back in Mare’s face so hard they bounced off his face as they crumbled.

“I don’t like that kid’s aura,” Mare crossed his arms. “He smells weird.”

“Which kid?” Nate argued loudly, Henrik was watching Logan leading Tubbo down the street, the two obviously coming from the base and going out on a patrol. When Tubbo spotted Nate and Mare arguing the two stopped to watch them cautiously from across the street.

“The little goat demon with the bee theme,” Mare slapped down a hand to hold it about at Tubbo’s height. “I didn’t know you guys were picking up spawnlings off the street. I thought that was Dark’s shtick.”

“Bomble? What do you mean he smells?” Nate demanded. “What does he smell like?”

“How are you still alive?” Mare let out a frustrated sigh. “You know how toast smells when it gets burnt?”

“Yeah?” Nate agreed.

“Okay so imagine that burnt toast also set the toaster on fire, and that’s pretty much it,” Mare told them. “Anti doesn’t smell anything, but I can. I don’t know why! I checked with Dark, he can smell it too. But he doesn’t think he smells like toast.”

“Vat[1] did Dark say he smells like?” Henrik questioned.

“Death,” Mare told him. “At first I thought he was joking, like he was just being overdramatic, but then he told me he smells like a village that was on the verge of death from illness. Like a household taken over by the Plague. And after thinking about that, I’m inclined to agree. He kinda does smell like sickness. More like the burnt toast and toaster thing, but I get it. Dark is really old and he would go for that explanation. Don’t know how Anti doesn’t smell it, but he smells like bad news.”

“Zat[8] is very interesting,” Henrik hummed, everyone in the Coalition knew that Tubbo was a bomb expert and that the Coalition had some samples of a couple of his projects under lock and key so no one else could use them.

“Doesn’t help that everything he comes into contact with also winds up smelling like him,” Mare complained. “I thought Pixels had had something blow up in his face because he smells like him, all the time now.”

“Did you tell Logic about it?” Nate asked.

Mare huffed out, “Yeah but he had no idea what I was talking about, couldn’t stand to be in the base because the kid’s got the place carpet bombed.”

“King und[6] Host do not seem to have a problem viz[11] it,” Henrik thought out loud.

“Then their noses are broken, or maybe they have a tolerance to it, I don’t know,” Mare threw up his hands in defeat. “Point is the kid reeks, where’d you dig him up from? He die in some kind of explosion or something?”

“Not zat ve know of,”[12] Henrik sighed. “But he does have an affinity for explosives und bombs.”

Nate looked confused, “Does a person’s death influence their aura?”

“Kinda,”[13] Mare shrugged. “Sometimes it’s a little weird in how it manifests. I can tell if a demon was splintered from another demon, or came from a human soul. Wil probably became a demon in some insane asylum. Dark, it wouldn’t surprise me if his ringing is tied to how he died.”

Mare’s nostrils flared as the direction of air changed and the demon turned to glare at Tubbo who was quickly buzzing across the street and Logan yelled after Tubbo and raced to keep up.

The older demon hissed and took a step back. Logan physically put himself in-between Mare and Tubbo, physically baring his arm in front of the young man to keep him back.

Tubbo just nonchalantly hovered in the air as his wings buzzed. Mare wrinkled up his nose and glared at Tubbo, who was looking quite smug.

“Hey,” Tubbo smiled. “Heard yeh we’re talkin’ about me, mate?”[14]

“You smell,” Mare spat.

Tubbo finally touched his feet to the ground and leaned over to smell his arm, but his helmet shield was still down, so all he did was uselessly shrug. “I showered this mornin’[15].”

“Not what I meant, your aura reeks,” Mare told him. “What’d you do to it?”

Shrugging again, “Just me, bossman.”

“I’ve never,” Mare looked personally insulted. “I’ve never smelt a glitch aura like yours, you must have done something to it.”

“Huh,” Tubbo thought on that before he realized something, “interesting, so I don’t smell like honey anymore?”

“How the flying fuck do you smell even remotely similar to honey?” Mare demanded, almost sounding angry.

“Dunno,”[16] Tubbo shrugged. “E’eryone in the Server always said I smelled like honeycombs. Why do yeh think I started goin’ with the bee aesthetic?”[17]

“Yes, I was wondering how you arrived at the theme you did,” Logan commented.

“You’re lucky I’m in your territory or I’d take your face off,” Mare snarled and he disappeared into a puff of dark black-purple smoke.

“Nice ta[18] know I’m a natural demon deterrent,” Tubbo boasted proudly.

“I don’t think you smell bad, you smell like any normal person,” Logan commented.

“Maybe it’s a glitch thing, then,” Tubbo shrugged.

Logan was quiet at that.

“So I was right, you are a glitch then,” Nate commented.

“If I’m not a glitch, then I don’t know what qualifies, big guy,” Tubbo chuckled.

“Fair, but you and Big Man came from the same gang,” Nate was just watching Tubbo, the young man’s wings buzzing nervously. “How many glitches does the Server have?”

“Like, still? Or before me an’[6] Big Man left?” Tubbo’s tone sounded extremely guarded.

“Not including you two,” Nate qualified.

Tubbo paused to think, “Uhmm. Skeppy, Foolish, Sam, Karl . . .” He kept silently counting for a little bit. “Seven? Eight? Dream is really big on collecting glitches an’[6] empaths. There are even more empaths.”

“Did he ever say why, specifically?” Nate asked. “Glitches are really territorial, so are empaths for that matter, I wouldn’t think it would be so easy to have so many close together.”

“Well, yeah, it was hell,” Tubbo agreed. “But it helped that a lotta us were turned demons, we always kinda existed in the same type ‘a space e’en before we turned so we would have less reason ta kill each other.”[19]

“Yeah but people don’t just collect demons because they can,” Nate told him. “Do you know why he’s doing it?”

“I dunno[16],” Tubbo shrugged. “I always figured it was some kinda[13] power trip thing.”

“I think we should keep moving,” Logic interjected, he’d been watching Tubbo get more and more fidgety and nervous so he stepped in and whisked the young man away from Nate. They went off to go meet up with the other Core Sides and survey the damage that Remus had caused.

Nate and Henrik watched him go.

“That huge pact Dream has really bothers me,” Nate admitted. “Seven or more glitches all in such a tightly packed area, with that many empaths thrown in as well is a recipe for disaster.”

“How so?” Henrik asked.

“Anti and Dark are at each other’s throats and they’ve got different territories the size of cities,” Nate reminded. “By my research, Dream’s got a couple dozen young demons all in an area the size of three football fields and they haven’t all slaughtered each other. You don’t get that without a lot of coercion. It just . . . I don’t like it.”

Henrik thought about that, “Are you still going to do more research today?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Nate shrugged. “Write some music too.”

“I vill[20] join you,” Henrik offered.

“Sure, but why? If you don’t mind me asking?” Nate gave him an odd look.

“I vish to find Anti, und figure out exactly vat type of person zat I am dealing viz,”[21] Henrik explained.

“If you start knocking on that door, just know that demons don’t like talking about what turned them into demons. Some demons are too traumatized by it, others see their old human selves as weaklings. Anti is probably going to fall into the second category. You are going to start a shitstorm.”

“Zat[8] is alright,” Henrik dared as he stood up. “Anti und I already have been on bad terms, und zis vould be no’zing new.”[22]

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

Post A/N: Tubbo’s familiars are named Spinz, Spunz, and Spoonz. His bee drone is named: Bee Innit. (Named after the canon bees Tubbo had in his New L’Manberg apiary.)

Tubbo’s aura actually smells like radiation, with a thin honey undercurrent, but demons older than the 1960’s can’t place specifically what his aura smells like and the radiation drowns out his original aura too much.

Accessibility Translations:

1. What

2. Ahhh, Nathan, it’s so good to see you. It’s a rare thing to see you in the base these days.

3. Big Man has a brother currently with Marvin. He calls himself Ghostbur and can phase through walls.

4. No

5. was

6. and

7. the

8. that

9. I know what he is now, but what about before. Who was he before he was a demon?

10. I can’t imagine a world were he didn’t get into some type of trouble with the law

11. with

12. Not that we know of

13. Kind of

14. Heard yeh we’re talkin’ about me, mate?

15. morning

16. Don’t know

17. Everyone in the Server always said I smelled like honeycombs. Why do you think I started going with the bee aesthetic?

18. to

19. But it helped that a lot of us were turned demons, we always kind of existed in the same type of space even before we turned so we would have less reason to kill each other.

20. will

21. I wish to find Anti, and figure out exactly what type of person that I am dealing with

22. Anti and I already have been on bad terms, and this would be nothing new.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #birthday post #footnotes #henrik von schneeplestein #antisepticeye #Logan Sanders #tubbo underscore #Nathan Sharp #Natemare #Antistein #Doctor Glitch #Tubbo's bees #magic #overprotective Mare #Tubbo is a natural anti-demon repellant #because he smells like radioactivity #Henrik are you dealing with your emotions in a healthy way?#what story do you think you're in?

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

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Teddy Bear Anon has purposed yet another interesting addition to the Immune AU which gives me plot ideas! In particular, a scene that would really help give past Dream a strong push into his character arc.

I like to image that immune!Dream’s character arc starts with the death of immune!Puffy. Sure, maybe he’s not sad yet, but he feels something for the woman who declared herself his pseudo mother. It’s what helps to crack the shell enough for the rest of the immune gang to start weedling their way into his heart. Immune!Dream after spending enough time watching the group he, starts to realize that yeah, connections to other people isn’t a weakness. It really is a strength. It’s something that takes time for him to come to terms with because Techno seems like a testament to the fact connections are a weakness. He was unbeatable until his horse got kidnapped. His only connection, his only weakness. But then there’s Tommy who seems to represent the complete opposite.

Where Dream represents strength from caring too little, Tommy represents strength from caring far too much. Now I’m a sucker for bamf Tommy, and I like to personally imagine that maybe the Immunes hold out for a year or two before they cave and try to make the portal. So Tommy has what really boils down to a two year training arc on top of already being a child veteran (I like to canonize SMP Earth as well because personal preference and it gives me even more room to make Tommy suffer. SMP Earth being canon? God, so much fucking trauma considering how the others treated him, a 15 year old child, like an adult.) Anyway Dream slowly realizes connections with one another are what kept the remaining Immunes alive, and he tries to force his younger self to understand that. Tries, but doesn’t really get far. Up until what everyone else calls The Fight.

Tommy’s always just kind of screwed around in fights as long as there’s only a threat to him. We know he has a tendency to throw if MCC is any indicator. But then they time travel and maybe they spend some time in the past trying to get the situation sorted and the past’s Dream maybe just kinda does something to Tubbo. Doesn’t even have to be big, it just needs to clock as a threat to Immune!Tommy who’s already lost his Tubbo and refuses to let his younger self go through that. So Tommy goes completely ape shit on the younger Dream. Sure, it’s only been two years for this Tommy. He’s probably, like, 18 or 19 at most. Still a child as far as a lot of people are concerned. He shouldn’t be stronger than Dream or Technoblade, and in the few cross group sparing sessions they’ve had he isn’t. He’s stronger than his younger self but no where near these two demi gods of combat. But then Dream suddenly registers as a threat to Tubbo in Immune!Tommy’s eyes and he makes the mistake of mocking Tommy while he’s at it. He knows that immune!Tommy lost his Tubbo and maybe the past Dream is lashing out slightly or trying to get some kind of foothold in Tommy’s psyche. He isn’t doing anything near what immune!Dream has done, but it’s enough to piss Tommy off. So immune!Tommy challenges Dream to a fight and Dream immediately realizes the mistake he’s made when Tommy starts to destroy him.

Say even Techno’s there for some reason or another and he realizes what’s going down so he tries to calm Tommy down, joining the fight just as Dream is loosing it. The situation quickly turns into the first time Techno’s ever gotten his ass thoroughly kicked by Tommy, leaving everyone spectating baffled (Tommy’s younger self partly included). They’re certain this kid is going on some rampage and none of them can stop him but the moment Dream and Techno are both taken care of (wounded, not killed, the older Tommy is always careful about that. He even throws a splash healing on them with some indifferent kind of disgust that hides the fact he does still care to some extent even hurting as he is.) Tommy immediately just switches focus to outright doting on Tubbo, ignoring any muttered Clingyinnits in favor of ensuring Tubbo is fine. Tubbo is completely find and just as confused, but the point stands and neither Tommy ends up leaving Tubbo’s side for the rest of the day. The younger Tommy, after all, is the only one the older Tommy’s told the full story to regarding the future (even when he couldn’t trust his own family he was always able to trust himself with the secrets that mattered, so he prepares his younger self in case the worst comes to pass.)

The older Dream, immune!Dream, he doesn’t get involved. He sit on the side lines and just kinda laughs, the sound drowned out by Sapnap’s loud encouragements and Sam’s half hearted attempts to get Tommy to stop (he could have stopped Tommy immediately if he’d stepped in. Sam is after all the only person on earth Tommy listens to without hesitation, but Sam lets it happen and pretends he tried.)

Immune!Dream just kinda smirks at his younger self later that night and mentions something about attachments really making you weak. After all, it’s not like the only time Tommy takes a battle seriously is when someone he cares about is in danger. It’s not like Tommy would turn the world into a seared ball for Tubbo, and Tubbo would do the same in return. It’s not like they’ve watched the people they care about temporarily rebuke the Crimson just to give the Immunes those precious extra seconds needed to survive in a fight. Attachments, they’re just a weakness.

The younger Dream doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s the first time he thinks about his older self maybe being right.

Before I go I wanna leave you with two more ideas for the Immune AU

First up, Wilbur is eight years older than Tommy give or take. Wilbur had Fundy when he was around 16 and Tommy was around 8. Tommy was the best damn uncle he could be and for a while Tommy and Fundy were really stupidly close. They were both apart of the raised by Wilbur club and Wilbur was trying his damn best. Fundy aged/matured (physically and mentally) faster than a regular person for a while. They believed it was because he was a fox hybrid and Wilbur was ready to lose Fundy too soon. When Fundy was equivalent to 18 in human years though his aging process suddenly slowed to a crawl and his tail split into two, at which point the group realized he was actually a kitsune and it was just those first 8 years that passed by quickly (and Wilbur had a lot of questions for the now missing Sally who he’d thought was a salmon hybrid, genuinely, but became exceedingly less sure.) His family knows he’s a kitsune, but Fundy hid it from most of the rest of the server. A good thing considering later events.

Fundy was part of the Immune group for a while and I like to imagine that he and Tommy had a falling out during the Pogtopia era but after the egg started to take over they started bonding again and acting like, well, family. Unfortunately when it came time for them to activate the portal, Fundy ended up getting separated from the group and getting caught. The eggpire didn’t actually know Fundy was fully immune or a kitsune so he just kinda pretended to get infected, using his illusions to make his fur look crimson. I personally like the idea that Fundy at some point managed to get back to the time machine and being a little code wizard manages to get the thing working and yeets himself in. He shows up a little late but after fixing his appearance manages to catch up with the rest of the group.

Fundy is underrated. Tommy being a good uncle is underrated. Sam would absolutely adopt the traumatized fox baby in Eret’s honor. What’s not to love?

The last concept I wanna bring up that I really like is hybrid Tommy. Tanuki would be good since it’s another reason for the Sam Nook bit. Maybe Sam specifically picked Sam Nook since Tom Nook was Tommy’s favorite character on the grounds he was the only representation Tommy had ever gotten and it made the kiddo happy. However, I also personally really like phoenix Tommy and it would make an interesting plot point. Tommy accidentally losing his third life at some point and realizing he’s an immortal creature of fire would have led to him taking a protector role for his new family. He can’t die, but he can burn anything around him, why not send him out to get supplies when the worst the eggpire could do would be capture him. Even then he just literally cannot hear the egg. Which could lead to both some interesting comedic moments and some really good angst if Sam agonizes over his desire to protect Tommy and let him be a child suddenly being at odds with the fact Tommy is literally the best person for the job so to speak. Not to mention Sapnap, who I headcanon as a Blaze hybrid, would be even more attached the moment he found a new fire proof friend to burn forests with him. Regardless of which hybrid type he is, I could see him hiding it from everyone except for Fundy when he was a child and only ever admitting it later to the other Immunes once they become a found family.

Personally I like the idea of Tommy being part tanuki hybrid and part phoenix hybrid, but is that too mary sue? Is it just a little bit too cheesy to have him be both? I will never not try to incorporate phoenix Tommy into my fics but also tanuki Tommy would be such a mood for this au.

Like image Tommy just builds a den that’s in reality a vault/panic room a la Techno and he hides it under Church Prime since that is The Safe Spot in Tommy’s mind.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

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