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hualian-blessing · 3 years

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why mcyttwt does not think some (if not most) of the time when it comes to mcc

if i post this in twitter, i’d surely get hated upon but someones gotta have to say this one day. also this does not target to mcytblr!!! this rant is more of towards mcyttwt!!!

remember how mcyt was so chill before all of this shit? how we would watch our favorite minecraters when the community was so small? or how mcc was an event that both ccs and fans can have some fun and entertainment once per month? and that was only last year too. now look at the new generation of mcyt fans and see why some of the old fans dont really associate the new ones.

as a fan of the old gen mcytbers like DanTDM, SkyDoesMinecraft, Aphmau and CaptainSparklez. heck im a fan of pewds’ minecraft series before dream or tommy or ranboo or the new gen of mcyt ccs blew up (a year before them if im correct), and we dont see drama or bad shit all the time when it comes to their content.

now compare that to the new gen where every single fucking day, a bored fan or anti would post shit drama in twitter where some of the people from twitter moved to tumblr just to not get a headache from the batshit craziness mcyttwt brought forth. and it just snapped more when the mccp21 rolled in.

heres some of my takes about the mccp21 issue:

1) “there’s a lack of representation of lgbtq+ in the teams!!!”

heres something to tell yall about that. scott doesnt have a fucking choice. scott smajor has told time and time again, WEEKS before the announcement of teams, that there are certain requirements and limitations to mccp21 thus there will be difficulty in choosing whos entering or whos not. limitations and requirements such as it will be streamed on youtube or how streamers with twitch contracts aren’t allowed to stream or (god bless scott’s good heart) scott not allowing some of the lgbtq+ streamers in joining the special event due to wanting them to have a chance to stream and experience their first mcc (so to those who said that ranboo should have been in mccp21, shut up ‘cuz scott wanted genderman to have fun streaming his first mcc but cant due to ranboo being a well-known twitch streamer). to those who complained that ant and velvet should be in the mcc, stop being selfish and do some actual research on why scott didn’t include them. a simple question to those two’s fans would answer that they can’t make it due to them camping for a week which within those days is the mccp21. they’re having time to themselves, not wasting it on a minecraft championship.

take in the consideration that, oh i dont know, not a lot of lgbtq+ ccs applied to the event? its not a free invite championship (in fact, mcc has always been like that), it’s an applied with the sufficient and correct requirements kind of event. the artist who created the icons from the previous mcc for the teams said that scott let in some of the new ccs in last minutes due to lack of applicants not meeting the requirements thus not having custom artworks for the teams if they want to announce the teams in time.

2.) “there’s no lesbians or trans in the teams >:(((”

sadly enough, there’s not much of the players from the lgbtq+ community but to say there’s no trans people in mccp21 is utterly false. by definition, trans mean denoting or relating to a person whose sense of personal identity and gender does not correspond with their birth sex. other genders such as non-binary, genderfluid, androgyne, bigender, gender expansive all fall under trans. you define yourself with the gender you personally chose and comfy with from you birth gender. so saying there’s no trans in the teams when there are players from the event like eret or sqaishey who are nb and genderfluid respectively are there to also represent not only the sexuality but also the gender identity of others??? like c’mon, please make sense mcyttwt.

also, while its sad to not see lesbians, please know that lgbtq+ doesn’t strictly be defined by lesbians. ffs, lgbtq+ literally means Lesbians Gays Bisexuals Transgenders and Questioning (or Queer but im not too sure about that one) which means that there are still other representatives for the community in the event.

3) “technoblade is in the event?!!! WHAT THE FUCK, HES A HOMOPHOBE/LESBIPHOBE-”

utter clowns, toxic twitter users are. do you really think that scott smajor, an openly gay man, would let a supposed “homophobe/lesbiphobe” in an event that focuses in supporting the lgbtq+ community? do you hear yourself? do you even do research where the joke he made was when he was the same age as me and it was based on a historical article back in WW2? or how he passionately supports the community especially the lesbians because a lesbian couple complimented him to which kickstart his confidence? the man willingly went to this mcc event despite being flamed a lot in twitter because he (and everyone) knows that his chat, his fans and supporters, are literal millionaires. if you saw a stream from foolish where he auctioned canonical characters for funs, a techno fan donated thousand of dollars to get technoblade, and that’s only one fan, now imagine a hundreds of thousands of them.

like it or not, technoblade has always been open about his support to the community, especially that majority of his fanbase are from the same community that mcyttwt allegedly swore that technoblade hates.

4) “since this mccp21 is pointless because theres no dteam, quackity, punz or (insert cc name), let’s have a watch party of the previous mccs to spite mccp21!!!” “let’s hope (insert cc name) stream on the 26th so mccp21 doesnt have the same amount of viewership like before!!!” “where are (insert cc name)??? gosh, this mcc is so boring without them!!!”

shut up shut up shut up shut up shut the actual fuck up. are you really seriously hearing yourself? are you willing and proudly boycotting a once in a year special event that is seriously needed by the lgbtq+ community? are you that cruel and selfish to sacrifice a project that helped tons of people just for your sick entertainment and desires? are you that evil to stop others from enjoying and donating to the trevor project? are you that inconsiderate of other ccs that aren’t part of dsmp and calling them boring? and for what? because your favorite cishet streamer isn’t there? oh booofuckinghoo! you’re so fucking petty to even post about this kind of tweets in public.

(edit: did yall honestly thought that without your favorite streamers that the mcc is not worth watching because they aren't there? well let me tell you, im a ranboo fan. ive watched him when he first entered the dsmp and watched him spinning in his unicorn chair for 5 minutes. the boo community waited for so many months for genderman to join mcc yet we didn't even do that kind of disgusting action and behavior every time he isn't in mcc. 8 months. that's how long ive watched him. ive waited 8 months for him to be in the event yet i still watch other povs like tommy's, puffy's, wilbur's, and etc., because it's fun and entertaining to watch them despite the beloved not participating in the games.

if you're that spoiled to not even watch mcc because (insert cc whose not part of mccp21 name here) isn't part of the roster then you most likely have a one dimensional humor because there will always be someone more funny and entertaining than them. i like dsmp don't get me wrong, but i found parrot's school smp funnier than dsmp yet you don't see me insulting both series, do you? learn to keep yourself if you're calling ccs as boring or dull or not entertaining enough due to not having the same big platform as the dsmp members.)

you don’t deserve to call yourself a fan if you’re doing this kinds of actions. in fact, people like you should be kicked out from the mcyt community because your kind of people are the reason why we look so bad from the outside. your toxic and self-entitled to these content creators are the reason why famous ccs like sbi, purpled, tubbo and almost ranboo left twitter/implied strict rules to their subtwts. you drove out an entire friend group that tons of fans found comfort in from the platform and you still have the audacity to this kind of shit? honestly, just leave before you give me a headache.

what im sayin’ is that mcyttwt is one of the worst, if not THE worst, subtwts out of the other subtwts in twitter. having no actual research or evidences or spreading false information is common in twitter where you would have to take what they said with a micro size grain of salt. mcyttwt already ruined the fun and spirit of mcc during its comeback in mcc14 due to the glitch and beta testing shit (ey i still stand for the ranboo beta testing but i know that will be worthless since theres hints of him joining soon in mcc15). if you’re still in mcyttwt, i suggest to get out of there while you still can. we’ll never know if there’s a bigger shitstorm than this in the mcyttwt that may happen in the future.

edit! hi bella again, ive been told by a polite and cool user that not all people from mcyttwt are toxic and/or cruel. im going to clear something up here. ive written this during the heat of the announcement of mccp21 teams. so there's a lot of complains and/or entitled people in the app (you can even see it in my previous post too if you want evidences!) that gave off mostly negative vibes towards the event.

ive seen the cool ones who actually took the consideration for scott's side and the criticism of the lack of representation of other communities within the lgbtq+ umbrella (ive even share some parts of it above so im also a bit upset to the lack of numbers in the community). and some of them are correct about recruiting lgbtq+ creators in youtube but! like i said, it's an applied event and not invitational one, so its up to that content creator if they want to join or not. the amount of cishet in the roster are just those who want to support the cause and/or backups/stand-ins in case scott and noxcrew can't find enough ccs in time!

just wanna clear this up because mcyttwt these days are covered by really cringe fans (ive noticed a pattern of them mostly new ones but there are still awesome new fans (like my irl friend who just joined this year) within the community) that covered the good ones where they enjoy, have fun and share some neat ideas and thoughts to the community within the platform!

when i said to get out of the mcyttwt while you still can, i meant to get out of there to avoid drama (that is really small contrast those who really need to address the issue) and take a break from it. it's still your choice if you want to be surround by it or not or if you want to come back to the app. all im saying is to buckle up for the shitstorm cuz this is not the last time that the twitter side of mcyt will cause negativity to the community.

#mccp21 #technoblade #twitter #twitter discourse #mcc discourse #mcyttwt #minecraft championships #fuck off tw #twitter sucks jfc #noxcrew

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worminstuff · 3 years

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The Balcony of the Treehouse Pt.6

sleepy bois x reader au

no warnings:)

also merry christmas:)

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Is that good or bad” Y/n asked Techno, her gaze soft.

“I'm not sure. He was really cool but..” Techno shrugged his shoulders.

It was currently the next day, and Y/n was accompanying Techno in the treehouse. They were currently discussing Techno’s new friend as of yesterday, Bo. Sam's older son.

Apparently Bo was sorta like Techno in some ways. They were both pretty shy at first but then found some common interest, and became rather comfortable pretty fast. Bo even let Techno ramble about Y/n for a bit and also said he would totally wanna meet her too.

“He's just not me.” Y/n grinned cockily and Techno pushed her shoulder.

“Right.” he rolled his eyes. “How was it with the other boys?”

“It was alright. Surprisingly very chill. I guess Tommy and Tubbo had really tired themselves out in the morning beforehand.” she shrugged. She was telling the truth, they slept for quite a while and were only awake for about an hour before everyone else got back.

“What about Will?” Techno wondered how she handled being around him while he was still..angsty.

Y/n shrugged again. She didn't really want to tell him about the kitchen and how they talked for the whole tiny Tommy and Tubbo napped. Or the cigarettes.

She couldn't stop thinking about how she was sitting on the counter and how he seemed so calm and sweet as if nothing happened.

She just had no idea, he was doing it on purpose. Will figures, if he can ignore his protective and jealous feelings, and maybe just try to get a connection with her. He may actually be able to get somewhere. Techno has the higher ground, he spends all his time with her and he has for years. Wilbur's only just started to in the past year and a half or so.

Wilbur doubts Techno actually has genuine feelings for Y/n. He has no way of genuinely knowing. It's just sort of a hunch. Or a hope maybe.

“He actually asked if i wanted to go to that bonfire thing with him..” her voice was almost a mumble. Just after she said she thought it would be fun, Wilbur explained the next evening they were going down to the beach to have a bonfire and hangout and chill. He said they do it often and it's always really fun.

Techno looked at her, slightly surprised. She wanted to hangout with Wilbur? No way.

“And you said..no..right?” his brows furrowed.

“Well..wait why would I say no?” she looked at him. Her brows furrowed also.

“Well obviously..I- he- what?” Techno shook his head.

“What do you mean what? Why would I have said no? It sounds fun.” she crossed her arms.

Techno stared at her for a moment. He slid a bit forward, so he was a bit closer. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his head on his hands. Y/n stared back questioningly.

“Odds.” he stated, staring right into her eyes.

“Techno!” Y/n pushed his leg a bit, and looked away, slightly mad. “What the hell?!”

Odds was something they created when they were young, similar to the game odds, it ends with saying a number between certain odds to help decide something.except that's usually for something like a dare. In this case, they used it in sort of flip of a coin situations, but only when one of them thought it was really really important. And the person that calls odds, gets to pick the odds, ex. 1 through 5 or 1 through 10 etc. they did this so they didn't argue about situations sorta like this.

“If you say the same number as me, 1 through 4, you stay. If not, you can go. odds on your side.” he had 0 emotion to his features.

“That's not fair!” she frowned.

“It is though. I called it.” he shrugged, almost smiling. Almost.

Y/n huffed. “Fine.”

Techno counted them down and on the count of three,

“Two.” they spoke at the same time.

“Fuck!” Y/n hit his knee as Techno grinned. Crisis averted. Or so he thought.

Techno grinned as she huffed and crossed her arms with a pout, shooting daggers with her eyes.

“Hey, it's not that bad! Now I can read you that book you got me.” Techno had a happy little grin on his face.

“Oh no, i'm definitely going.” Y/n said. His smile disappeared instantly.

“What? But- but odds?” his shoulders sank. Y/n alone with will in a car, and then alone with him and his friends, at a bonfire. There would be beer and shit everywhere! He just wanted her with him, safe away from Wilbur's scummy friends.

“I told Will I would! I can't go back on that. That's so rude.” she looked at him with puppy eyes.

Techno glared slightly, looked away, then looked back. She knew the eyes work, he acts all tough but he's too soft for it not to work.

“Okay. but i want you back here, when it's over. Not your house, not inside our house. Treehouse.” he pointed to the floor.

“And then normal sleepover?” Y/n smiled a little.

Techno's face softened as he saw her smile. He tried not to match her smile while shaking his head a little.

“Sure.”

^^^^^^^^^^

“Who's going this time?” Phil asked Wilbur.

It was around 5 or 5:30 and everyone was sat around the dining room table having dinner like they always do. Phil was currently discussing the bonfire with Wilbur, because he wanted to make a guesstimate in his head for how long Will would be gone using context clues. Because Will was never really home by the times he says he will.

“The usual group” Wilbur pointed his fork at his plate. “Oh! And Y/n”

Wilbur looked to her with a grin. Phil, for a lack of better words, looked as if one of his kids just had a pregnancy scare.

“Sorry, “ Phil shook his head slightly, “say that again?”

“Or don't.” Techno mumbled, Y/n jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

“I'm going along! I haven't done anything fun lately so Wilbur offered to let me tag along. It'll be fun.”Y/n shrugged.

Wilbur was beaming, Techno was silently livid, and Phil was looking in between the two very nervously.

The reason Techno was so genuinely angry was because Wilbur looked so smug when they sat down at the table. His grin was from ear to ear and he was excited to talk to Y/n about when she wanted to go and if she needed anything from her house, and the entire time Techno sat and felt his anger levels rise. His ears were hot, his shoulders tense and not a smile in sight.

He wanted to smack the smirk of his brother's face to be frank.

Techno knew what was going to happen. She was going to go with him, and have an amazing time. Great, right? Wrong. Clear to Techno, this was some evil master plan. Wilbur was going to give her more friends she would only go see with him. So when she wanted to spend time with these new people she had to also see him. And obviously at first she'll be all she so he gets to confront her and break her out of her shell. Techno knows how social Y/n can be, and she loves meeting new people! He hated to say it, but his brother was a genius.

Techno's fingers were starting to tremble.

What if she did like them? And wanted to see them more? What if they're cooler than him and what if they do drugs? Y/n wouldn't do drugs..would she?

His breath was slowly starting to catch up on him. He excused himself quickly and made his way off to the bathroom.

The crisp sound of the door creaking filled his ears as his back slid against it till he was on the floor.

His mind was running rampant.

How well does he really know Y/n? What could she possibly want with a bonfire when she has him and the treehouse? Is he not enough for her? Should he try to make more friends?

What was wrong with him?

He clutched his leg as he silently shook and took tiny shallow breaths.

Soon enough, just as he was starting to be able to allow more air into his lungs there was a soft knock on the door.

“Techno?..” Phil's voice was soft on the other side of the door.

Techno sniffled as he stood, he brushed himself off, and took a deep breath pushing all emotion from his features. He reached over and flushed the toilet a few feet in front of him, then he ran the sink for a moment before opening the door with one hand wiping on his leg.

“Hm?” he raised his brows.

Phil stared at him, analyzing his face fully. He looked fine, sort of. He looks normal to anyone who isn't his father per say. Phil could see behind his cold eyes he had been crying. No matter how much he pushed his emotions down, he couldn't push away the puffy eye bags or the glossy sheen, though they were actually very subtle.

A simple arm was raised and Techno immediately fell into him, deadweight in his arms. Phil held him tightly, silently. He pressed his cheek onto Techno's head, brushing down the unruly tangles in his hair.

There were no words spoken, they stood silently. Phil knew Techno wasn't going to tell him anything so he did not bear to try.

A little bit of time passed, and they broke apart to make their way back when Phil leaned over,

“Laugh with me like we said something funny. Trust me.”

Techno stared at him for a moment, and then giggled softly. Phil joined him and their laughs were terribly fake which caused more laughter and soon it became real laughter as they were walking into the dining room.

Y/n was staring at a babbling Tommy, while Wilbur was on his phone. Y/n immediately looked to Techno once he was in the room, a worried look on her eyes that disappeared as she saw his face. She was worried for nothing.

Phil patted Techno's back softly as they both picked up their plates to clean them, Tommy following suit with his father and older brother. Will and Y/n stood to do the same.

“Alright dad, think we're gonna head off.” Wilbur said, his grin authentic.

Phil nodded, “Right, don't forget to send me a ping when you get there and on your way home.” he pointed a winger between the pair, both nodded.

Techno stared aimlessly as he watched his girl walk out the door with his brother.

He hoped she was going to have fun.

As soon as both doors to the front seats of Will's car closed, Wilbur looked at her excitedly.

He turned the car on and pulled from the driveway, “Are we excited?”

“You can say that.” her smile was small.

“Don't be nervous, you're gonna love them and they're gonna love you. It's gonna be great.”

Y/n stared at him for a moment, he read her so easily. He looked so giddy. Was it because of her? She didn't want to get cocky but she'd never seen him this excited to see his friends before.

Wilbur's mind was running wild, he was alone with her for once, and then she got to hangout with his people. He even had a small surprise for her that he was even more excited for.

Y/n was progressively getting more and more nervous as they drove silently. She was starting to overthink. As she listened to her thoughts quietly, she failed to notice her leg start to bounce.

Will placed a gentle hand on her knee, “None of that. Nothing to be worried over. I wouldn't have asked you to come if i didn't know for a fact they'd like you.” his eyes broke away from the road momentarily. Y/n nodded. She trusted him.

Soon the smell of saltwater filled the car. Y/n took a quiet deep breath. Letting it fill her lungs. She slowly calmed herself, trying not to think of the hand on her knee, it would only fuel her nervous fire.

Y/n felt strange being here without Techno. It felt wrong. She rarely ever goes anywhere he isn't. He's practically glued to her 85% of the time.

Which was why when she was first meeting Wilbur's “crew”, she felt like a fish out of water.

Even with Wilbur's comforting hand holding hers, she felt stiff and awkward. They were all intimidating, the dudes were tall and confident and the girls were all gorgeous and sweet. Confident too.

She did notice, one of the boys seemed much more approachable. He stood at the back of the group while introductions were going around, she learned his name was Eret and he was one of Wilbur's newer friends but he was really cool.

Wilbur beamed at Y/n as he told her about his friends, his hand was still gentle and it made her smile.

Wilbur was happy she was getting a bit comfortable.

Once they felt everyone had been thoroughly introduced, they all started placing blankets on the sand around the large fire they'd made before Will and her had arrived.

Wilbur set down a blanket he brought and motioned for her to sit with him. When she sat down, he leaned over to speak into her ear, “See, nothing to worry about, yeah?”

He leaned away, showing her a grin. She smiled and shook her head at his silly little grin.

This was really fun.

She loved hearing these kids talk, there was even one girl like her whose parents were also never home. She liked her. The girl even offered that they go drive around some time! When she said that, Y/n of course nodded eagerly.

Wilbur, well he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He loved seeing her like this, it was like she was in her element. Meeting new people and making connections. It's a shame Techno has hogged her from people for so long. He resented him for that. To be fair, it's been like that since they've met. Wilbur saw her all the time, but only in brief interactions up until highschool.

She was so sweet, excited to talk to all of them even though he knew she was nervous, and Wilbur knew his friends loved her already. How could they not?

Wilbur was about to try to get her to talk to him for a little, seeing as how they'd been there for almost 45 minutes already and had barely spoken to him, but he was taped on the shoulder as a signal there was about to be a cigarette break out in the parking lot.

Wilbur stood, and leaned down to Y/n whispering to her where he was going. Just before he was about to go, he placed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Her eyes were wide.

“Look a bit..surprised there?” it was Eret, he sat down on the blanket next to Y/n just after seeing Will was about to go for a butt. He didn't want Y/n to sit all alone.

“I um..no yeah he just..its nothing.” Y/n laughed at her own lack of words, and Eret did too.

“I take it you two aren't official or anything?” his voice was low, and almost gravely but it was still so comforting.

Y/n knew he didn't mean it as if he were trying to make a move on her, he sounded genuinely curious.

“No it's..complicated. Very complicated.” Y/n stared at the fire.

“If I'm not prying, how so? You both seem..really..content together.” he looked from her to the fire.

“I..well his brother is my..best friend and he..”

“He..?” Eret leaned in a little.

“Well i don't know what he is to me really.” she looked at him, her face in question at her own realization.

“Well I know for a fact, he's infatuated with you.”

Y/ns eyes were wide again, “what?”

“Oh he's always going on about you.” Eret had a cheeky grin, almost like Will’s she thought, “He's been talking about you meeting all of us since he asked you yesterday. Not to mention he’s..” Eret stopped himself. He got carried away in his little ramble.

“He's what?” Y/n was confused why he stopped himself.

“No no, I really shouldn't have said anything.” he waved his hand as if he were brushing away his words.

Y/n groaned and threw her head back, “You can't do that!”

Eret laughed, “I'm sorry!”

“Tell me please.” she looked at him with pleading eyes.

Eret stared at her for a moment and sighed. “He's in love with you. But i don't know if you know that or not..so..” she did not. “I think I'm the only one hes told, but he was so...I don't know how to explain it. When he told me he sounded like he was pouring his heart out.” Eret’s eyes were on the fire.

He was in love with her?

Y/ns heart ached. No wonder he was so...hurt. It was her fault too.

As if on cue, (this boy was terribly good with timing) she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder as it slid around her shoulders. Will pulled her to his chest as he sat behind her. He smelled of smoke, but it was comforting. Before she thought about it, or what they were doing, she leaned back into him. The rest of the group took back their seats and conversion rose again.

Y/n an Wilbur sat listening quietly until she heard Will's voice in her ear.

“Chatting it up with Eret while I was gone?” his arm was still across her chest, his hand on her shoulder.

“I was, he's really nice.” she turned to look at him.

“Yeah?” he smiled at her in the dim light of the fire. She smiled back and nodded.

Wilbur stared at her a moment, “How about..we get out of here, and I show you another pretty place?” he was still smiling, but his eyes were nervous for a response.

“Sure. Sounds fun.” she gave him a reassuring smile.

Wilbur was quick to get up. Telling the group they were heading off, a little too excitedly.

Before Wilbur could pull her away, she quickly got all of the girls numbers and was even added to a group chat. She was beaming once they reached the car.

“And she even told me that i could go and hangout when they went to her house! Isn't that so sweet.” she looked at Will towards the end of her sentence to see he was already staring at her, his hand on the wheel in front of him.

His lip was in between his teeth, “Mhm. I knew you'd get along swimmingly with them.”

Y/n giggled.

“So where are we going?” she smiled to herself as Wilbur put his hand on her knee.

“Not saying, but, it's not far at all. We're practically there.” he was exaggerating, but the ride wasn't long at all.

Even though he wasn't, Wilbur felt as if he was driving slow. He felt like time was still, and he was glad. He wanted this to last as long as it could.

Y/n would have never expected what she saw, she was expecting a pretty clif with a view, or something like that.

He brought her to a flower field.

He parked the car on the side of the road towards the middle of the field.

Once they'd both stepped out, Wilbur went to her side.

“Up you go, turn around.” he motioned up at the top of his car. Y/n stared at him for a moment before turning around and letting him hoist her up so she could climb on top of the car. He climbed up after her and sat beside her.

For a little while, Y/n stared at the way the moonlight was casting a blue white onto the field and all the flowers. Wilbur stared at her. They sat this way for a little while but Y/n was the first to break the silence.

“A little birdy..told me something interesting.” she looked at him.

“Hm?” he hummed.

“Is it hard?” Y/n was staring at the moon, her hand was picking at the seam of her jeans.

“Is what hard?” Wilbur stared at her feet as they swung back and forth.

“..being in love with me.” she looked up at him, her eyes starry.

“Maybe. But it doesn't have to be.”

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peninkwrites · 3 years

Text

Techno comes home. Chapter 4

(we’re approaching the end, but not yet. Thank you guys as always)

Crossposted on ao3 here

Ch 1

Ch 2

Ch 3

Ch 5

Tommy was still there the following morning. Techno was almost surprised. He was still asleep, curled up quite comfortably on the floor. Techno paused, relieved that Tommy could finally rest, especially after the night he had. He almost froze to death, that had to take a toll.

Techno left him, heading out into the snow, going to check on his turtles. Tommy was still asleep when he returned home. He almost didn’t look like a little terror, sleeping peacefully. Maybe Techno should get a spare bed. Not for Tommy, per se. Maybe if Phil wanted to stay it would be useful. Techno headed back outside, goal in mind now. He returned immediately and threw a fistful of snow at Tommy’s head.

Tommy shrieked, jolting awake, “what the hell, man?!”

“You’re gonna sleep away the day, Tommy,” he drolled in a singsong tone.

“Why’d you do that?!” Tommy snapped, getting to his feet and brushing snow out of his hair. “It’s fuckin’ freezing out.”

“Well get moving, then. Warm yourself up,” Techno said matter-of-factly. “You think I’m gonna let you stay here for free? Nah. You’re gonna earn your keep.”

“What’re you…” Tommy frowned. “I can’t stay here.”

“Uh, yes you can. I’m actually inviting you this time.”

“I can’t,” Tommy said more firmly. “Dream could be back any second and–”

“But he’s not back now. So how about you live a little and help me chop down some trees?” Techno cut him off.

“I don’t have an axe,” Tommy muttered.

Techno threw an apple at his head. Tommy yelped, ducking from the apple like it was a bomb. “I thought you were gonna throw an axe at me!”

“What– Why would I throw an axe at you?” Techno scoffed. “I’m gonna to hand you an axe.”

Tommy grabbed the apple, taking the axe from him aggressively, “right, then. This is the plan? We’re gonna chop down trees together and you think Dream won’t come on?”

“I never said that, I said live a little.” Techno paused, tearing a foot of fabric off one of his cloaks so Tommy wouldn’t drown in it. Tommy accepted this more gratefully.

“Great,” Tommy muttered. Still, it seemed that Tommy felt better with a goal in mind.

It was strange, how quickly and easily Techno settled into this like it was routine. Tommy, for all his exhaustion, could still talk a mile a minute and didn’t seem to care that Techno had no interest in whatever he had to say. Techno could almost pretend nothing had changed, that they were still kids and Wilbur was just out of sight with Phil watching out for them. It was harder to maintain the illusion when he saw Tommy falter, struggling to find the strength to keep working when before nothing could tire him out fast enough. He never quit, though, just gritted his teeth and took out all his rage in the swing of an axe.

They both felt it, the mood shifting and a weight returning.

Dream joined the game

“I…”

“You’ve got to go. I know,” Techno sighed. “How about I keep your axe here? So he doesn’t take it?”

Tommy handed it over easily, mouthing the words my axe but not daring to voice it aloud, like it was a precious thing. Tommy let go of it easily, with none of the desperation that came with forsaking his belongings under worse circumstances.

“What about the cloak?” Tommy asked. “He’ll take this one too.”

Techno shrugged, “do what you want with it. If you want to leave it here, fine, but you could always hide it somewhere closer to home so you’re not walking in the cold.”

“Hide it from him…”

“What, you’re tellin’ me coming here doesn’t count as hiding something from him already?” Techno asked dryly.

“Yeah, but…” Tommy frowned. “I dunno. Guess it feels safer. This does. ‘Cause…” Tommy trailed off, he had intended to say because you’re here, but he didn’t think he was ready for that kind of vulnerability. Not yet. The moment he fully put his faith in Techno, something would go horribly wrong. History proved him right on that account.

“I’ll see you later, Tommy. You should get going otherwise you’re gonna get grounded,” Techno said sarcastically. It was easier to pretend this was trivial than confront what it truly meant if Tommy was in danger.

Techno was retired. He wasn’t looking for a fight and he certainly wasn’t going to seek one out because Tommy didn’t have the brains to run while he still could. Refusing violence was not as simple as it seemed, and Techno did not want to sacrifice the progress he had made, the home he had built here away from gods and governments and tangled loyalties.

He wasn’t a weapon. He refused to be. Even for family.

The next time Techno saw Tommy he had a burn on his arm, big and spread thin, like he had held out an arm to protect himself.

“What happened?” Techno’s voice remained calm and level, but already the voices jumped to violence. They were lucky Phil wasn’t here, he would be far less inclined to show restraint seeing someone had hurt his son. Phil had the greatest propensity for calm, but it meant when he did go off he was a storm to behold.

“Nothing, I was stupid,” Tommy muttered, holding that arm closer to his chest. “I thought–” Tommy stopped himself, shaking his head. “It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid?”

“I thought one of my pictures, I thought one of them was on the pile yesterday and… I tried to get it. After Dream lit the TNT,” Tommy shrugged. “Told you it was stupid.”

“...And you’re alive how?”

“Dream, he dragged me back, saved my arse,” Tommy sounded unsure, like he didn’t quite know how to feel about that. He laughed nervously, a function of panic rather than humor, “gave me shit for it too. Didn’t like me interfering.”

“Right.” Techno was satiated for now. He was not going to break his newfound pacifism because Tommy almost burnt himself alive for a picture. This did not mean he believed Dream’s intentions were benevolent. Gave me shit for it too. Didn’t like me interfering. Techno kept that in the back of his mind among a list of other reasons he may go to war over. Not yet. Techno had gotten this far, worked too hard, to go back on it easily.

“It wasn’t one of the important ones, I checked once Dream left,” Tommy added. “And I kept the cloak you gave me! See? I hid it under a tree just out of the tundra.” Techno didn’t care.

“I don’t care,” he told him as much. “You plannin’ on sticking around, Tommy?”

“Uh. For today. As long as I can. Dream didn’t say if he was coming today or not,” Tommy followed Techno as he headed for his turtle farm. “What’re the turtles for, anyway?” He asked as they hopped the fence.

“Potions.”

“Potions? You’re gonna make potions out of turtles?” Tommy seemed less enthused now as Techno checked his current haul.

“You don’t know much about brewing, do you?” Techno asked dryly.

“No. Never really needed to do much brewing m’self,” Tommy shrugged.

“Yeah, ‘cause you steal shit instead, don’t you Tommy?” Techno scoffed.

“Not anymore,” Tommy replied far more gloomily.

Techno sighed. “Are you gonna help me or are you just gonna stand there?”

“Y-Yeah, right,” Tommy was quick to remedy this. Too quick. He was supposed to whine and resist any inclination for work. Techno didn’t comment on it.

“Didn’t you guys like, have a drug van back in the day? Wasn’t that mostly brewing?” Techno asked as they headed back towards the house.

“I mean, yeah, but I was more there to keep things running,” Tommy swaggered across the snow, looking cocky.

“Whatever you say, Tommy.”

“It’s true!” Tommy pouted. “And just ‘cause I don’t need to brew my own potions doesn’t mean I can’t.” Techno didn’t bother with a reply. Tommy looked towards the treeline. “You seen Phil lately?”

“Not for a couple days. Why?”

“Just… Ghostbur still hasn’t turned up. And it’s been just me and Dream for weeks now. Not that that’s a bad thing,” Tommy said quickly. “He… he shows up. And we hang out together. It’s not all blowing shit up.”

“There’s still some blowing stuff up, though,” Techno pointed out.

“You’re one to talk,” Tommy grew sharper. “Half the time I think being here is a mistake. Dunno why I keep coming here. You’ve screwed me over before.”

“Not this again,” Techno rolled his eyes. “I get it, I’m the evil guy who summoned the Withers. And you’re only here because you’re that desperate.”

“Hey!” Tommy moved to punch him on the arm, Techno avoiding him with ease. “That’s not true. I’m here ‘cause…”

“‘Cause Dream is too scary to be around all the time?”

“No– A-And Dream doesn’t scare me!”

“Sure. Y’know you’re really good at lying to yourself.”

“Shut up,” Tommy aimed for him with more deliberation this time, punching him in the shoulder. Techno couldn’t even pretend that hurt. “I’m here ‘cause… ‘cause I get too bored being alone. I gotta banter with someone, even if you’re the worst possible candidate.”

“Oooh, candidate, that’s a big word for you, Tommy. Didja learn that for the election?” Techno mocked as he reordered the stores in his chests.

“Do you get some satisfaction from bullying me? I’m a child, you monster,” Tommy leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest, with careful attention not to touch the burn on his arm.

“I’m pretty sure it’s in my job description. Right under anarchy, ‘bully Tommyinnit’, followed by, collect honey. Come on,” Techno pulled him back outside.

“Is this what you do all day? Take care of turtles and bees?” Tommy groaned.

“Well, once you swear off violence there isn’t much else to do,” Techno said dryly.

“Come on, but this is boring,” Tommy kicked at the snow.

“Well, what do you do, then, Tommy? Mope around on that beach of yours and try and scrounge together armor to offer up to Dream? That’s really living, huh,” Techno mocked.

“Why do you hate Dream so much?” Tommy grew defensive once more.

“Why don’t you hate Dream more?” Techno retorted.

“He’s the only one who hasn’t fuckin’ left me,” Tommy snapped.

“So you say.”

“So I say– What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy frowned.

“We’ve been over this– can your other little friends visit you?” Techno had no idea why he had taken up the mantle of being Tommy’s child psychologist.

“W-Well,” Tommy seemed to hate this question. “Dream says–”

“Oh my god– we’ve been over this! Stop thinking about what Dream says. Do you know?” Techno turned to face him, bottles of honey abandoned, staring down at his little brother with challenge. If Tommy was going to keep moving in circles, Techno would stop him in his tracks.

“N-No I don’t,” Tommy said it like the words hurt. “I don’t. But… but no one came to my beach party… I made an effort and…”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Techno frowned.

“I had Ghostbur invite everyone and no one came,” Tommy stared at the ground, resigned and bitter.

“Ghostbur? And was this before or after he went missing?”

“...Right before.”

Techno’s suspicions grew stronger. “How do you know they even got delivered?”

Tommy didn’t seem to want to answer that line of logic. “Has Phil seen any sign of him?” He asked too softly.

It was hard to decide if they were scared of losing their brother again. How can you lose someone who’s already gone?

“No. He hasn’t,” Techno calmed, sinking into Tommy’s melancholy.

“What if he’s really just gone, Techno? What if this is just what happens to ghosts, they just up and leave one day?” Tommy asked, looking to his big brother for answers with the kind of faith that hadn’t died despite so much damage between them.

“I… I don’t know if it works like that, Tommy.” How could Techno be harsh in response to that? “You know… you know it’s not really him, right? That’s not Wilbur.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tommy muttered.

Techno thought the dark conversation was over, returning to his honey. Tommy kept going.

“When do you think we really lost him?”

“What?” Techno felt sick.

“Wilbur. When do you think he was… you know. Gone ‘round the bend. He… he started slipping after we were banished… but I dunno, I still had hope up until… I guess when he kept on insisting we needed to blow them all up,” Tommy closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I remember at one point he said something like, ‘god help whoever gets caught in the crossfire’. And he said it like he was laughing, like it was a joke. Said that about our friends. But… I dunno if he was gone before that. I hope he wasn’t, but… I think he was slipping for a while.”

“I don’t know,” Techno said. Techno stood by what he had done with Pogtopia, that didn’t mean he was proud of how it had all gone down. He had fed into Wilbur’s insanity. He could see that now. He had thrown himself into violence alongside him, always telling himself the ends justified the means. Techno stood by those goals, he stood by his reaction to his friends and brothers betraying those goals, but… he didn’t know what part he had to play in Wilbur begging Phil to end his life. He didn’t know if he wanted to know.

“What do you think would’ve happened? If Wilbur had just let us win?” Tommy asked.

“And you had still installed another government to take over for the one you just overthrew?” Techno said coldly. “I would’ve stopped you.”

“Right,” Tommy grew bitter. “Because Schlatt being in charge is somehow comparable to Tubbo.”

“Isn’t it?” Techno asked. Tommy had no reply. “What exactly did Schlatt do? That was worse than any other useless government figurehead?”

“He threw out me and Wilbur!” Tommy snapped.

“Yeah, yeah, I get that, but that affected you personally. Not to say that doesn’t count, but there’s got to be more to excuse replacing him. What government policy or action represented tyranny in his rule?” Techno spoke slowly, a little sarcastically, but he did want Tommy to answer.

“Sound like a fuckin’ test question…”

“Just answer it.”

“He– He disregarded Quackity, his VP, he refused to listen to him.”

“And weren’t you Tubbo’s VP?”

“That’s– That’s different–”

“Different how?” Techno pushed.

Tommy ignored the question, “he overtaxed Nikki! He arrested her ‘cause she refused to listen to him. He tried to kill ‘er too!”

“Okay. And Tubbo banished you because you refused to listen.”

Tommy kept going, a little desperately now. “He– He forsook all of our traditions, tore down the walls, changed the flags–”

“Superficial, Tommy. Meaningless.”

“H-He killed Tubbo! He had him executed on stage in front of everyone– He decorated his own execution– Don’t tell me that’s something Tubbo would ever do!” Tommy was truly defiant now. “Actually, Schlatt didn’t kill Tubbo. He had you do it for him. You… you took a life from my best friend. Why am I even talking to you right now–”

“What was I supposed to do, huh?!” Techno shouted back, no longer cold and patronizing, finally his frustration bled through, he had to let go of the glass bottle in his hand because the alternative was crushing it or throwing it at Tommy’s head. “If I didn’t listen to Schlatt– he would’ve killed me and then Tubbo next!”

“You should’ve gone for Schlatt,” Tommy got in his face, pressing an accusing finger into his chest. “Why the hell didn’t you?”

“I caught him in the crossfire–”

“And you caught everybody else!” Tommy shouted back, both of their voices a knife cutting through the suffocating silence of snow and empty space. “What the hell is wrong with you? You killed people without reason. How the fuck do you justify that?”

“I don’t,” Techno hissed, stepping closer to meet Tommy, towering over him, but Tommy didn’t step back, he held his ground. “I stay out of the way and I atone. That’s what I’m doing out here. I’m making sure I don’t hurt anyone else.” Techno stared at him, waiting for a challenge. Tommy’s hands balled into fists. He didn’t throw a punch. Techno stepped back. He wasn’t going to waste time trying not to blink first in some pathetic showdown, not when Tommy was the one desperate for a win. “You got banished ‘cause your best friend had no other choice. Because of Dream. You’re out here, you’re not atoning, because your best friend couldn’t keep you in line, so don’t pretend like I’m not at least trying to be better instead of playing into the hands of the same guy who’s been pulling the strings since day one.”

Tommy didn’t have a defense for that, only a question. “Well– What the hell am I supposed to do then, Techno? I’m– I’m powerless. Dream is a fuckin’ god for fucks sake, I’m just– I’m just some kid.”

Techno couldn’t remember a time where Tommy viewed himself as weak. Tommy was never just some kid, Tommy was always the first one in a fight, the never-say-die of every battle. Just some kid. The worst part is that was the truth. Tommy was a kid who didn’t deserve any of this weight, consequences, sure, but this? Techno, for all his cold rationale, for all his bloodlust and apathy, couldn’t see a justification for what Tommy had been through.

“You’re not powerless,” Techno muttered. “Now, don’t think I’m advising you fight a god, but you’re not powerless. He controls you because you let him.”

“Yeah? What, I disobey him and get my ass kicked? All my shit gets destroyed anyway,” Tommy argued.

“I thought Dream was your friend,” Techno said it pointedly, challengingly.

“He– He is,” Tommy didn’t sound so sure. “Best thing I’ve got right now, at least. I’d rather take some asshole who’s nice to me most of the time than being alone. I… I can’t be alone all the time.”

“What the hell has all this been, then?” Techno snapped. He had been at war with himself, back and forth over how much compassion he would give out to Tommy, and it felt almost cruel to have the fruition of those conflicts spat back in his face. “You think this was an easy choice for me? What do you think I’ve been doing out here, charity work?”

Tommy seemed surprised, but not dissuaded. “Look, what you’ve done, I’m grateful. Okay? I am, and that means a lot coming from me, but… this is temporary.”

“Why is this any more temporary than your little camp by the beach?”

“It’s not. That… I hope that’s temporary too, but… but back there things are more certain. I play by Dream’s rules, and things generally work out okay for me. There’s none of that out here. And…” Tommy almost seemed guilty. Almost. “I still don’t know if I trust you. Not really.”

“Yeah. Don’t tell me you trust him,” Techno said coldly. “Don’t tell me you trust him over your own family.”

“Family?” Tommy laughed sharply. “We haven’t been family for a very long time, Techno. Unlike you, Dream has never betrayed me.”

“Because you’ve never been on the same side!” Techno burst out. “Not really. He gave Wilbur TNT because he knew it would cause more problems. He was never on our side.”

“Yeah? But you were, Techno, you’re the one who turned on us,” Tommy spat.

“You all betrayed me. I just prepared for the worst. I told you what I was in for from the beginning. I was there to stop a government, not help one. It was the only expectation I had in all this, I didn’t ask for payment or power or anything. All I asked was no more government. And you couldn’t even do that one thing for me. And it was for your own good!” Techno snapped.

Tommy paled, frozen and silent, no longer arguing back, just shocked.

“What?” Techno asked sharply. Tommy stepped back. “Tommy, what?”

“Nah, just, heard something like that before,” Tommy laughed but it sounded more like a sob.

Techno was dumbfounded. They had both been pissed off and arguing on even ground a second ago and now… “You cry a lot now, y’know.”

“Shut up, no I don’t,” Tommy’s voice tremored. “Fuck–”

“So… are we no longer talking politics or…?”

“Politics?” Tommy scoffed. “I didn’t know we were talking about politics.”

“So what’s government, then?” Techno asked dryly.

“It was never about government. None of it was, it was about… it was about being able to go home, or have a home, or to know we were gonna be safe, or something like that. The presidency– I think, well, I dunno, we needed someone to organize us, someone to not be Schlatt, someone to give a shit and keep us all together. I wanted that to be Wilbur. Like it was before. I just wanted things to be how they were. I never wanted Tubbo to be president, Techno. Not ‘cause I didn't think he could do it, he’s a bit of a pushover sometimes, but he… he really cares. And he wants everyone to be okay. Or… that’s what he wanted at one point. Now… I don’t think I know him anymore,” Tommy fell deeper into old wounds. “I just wanted things to be like it was before. I just wanted my best friend back and I wanted us to get the discs back together. Wilbur was the one who was supposed to be in charge. He was the adult, he was the one who did it before, he– he said he could build the nation again, I didn’t think– I didn’t think he would–” Tommy stopped, biting his lip. “I dunno what I thought.”

It weighted the air. A thought shared between them that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. This is Wilbur’s fault.

It was hard enough to grieve with an echo of their dead brother walking around, let alone putting blame on him too.

Tommy changed the subject. “And I thought you were retired, I thought you were nonviolent now. Why does anarchy matter to you, then?”

“Anarchy isn’t violence, Tommy. Not any more than government is. What it does do– What it could’ve done, was prevent an abuse of power,” Techno explained. “I feel like that’s pretty relevant to you at the moment.”

“I don’t think you get it,” Tommy folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t have a choice in this. I can’t go home, and I can’t be alone. And you’ve made it abundantly clear you don’t want me around all the time, so, that shitty camp is my best bet. Dream is… 90% nice to me. So. I’m gonna take those odds.”

“I’m not gonna tell you how to feel about him and I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but I’ll tell you what I’ve seen, and what I’ve heard from you. He isn’t nice to you. He placates you,” Techno kept his tone level, calm. He wasn’t going to tell Tommy how to think, he’d been through enough of that, but he certainly wasn’t going to refrain from sharing his own thoughts. The tension had faded enough that he could get back to his honey.

“Placate– What’s that mean?”

“He entertains you enough that you don’t get mad and fight back. That paired with how helpless he makes you feel, I’m guessing it’s just enough to keep you out of his way,” Techno drawled.

“No, no if he wanted me out of the way he’d just leave me out here. He comes and visits me a lot,” Tommy tried to worm a way out.

“Right, so you could talk yourself up and get ready for a fight? No, Tommy, the best way to keep you out of the way is to make sure you’re too miserable to realize he’s the problem. If I were him, it’s what I’d do,” Techno said. “And I bet a little bit of it is revenge too. I mean, you’ve been a thorn in his side forever now, and now you’re bending over backwards to make sure he’s happy enough not to take more from you.”

“Or a bug,” Tommy said quietly.

“What?”

“A bug he had to take outside.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever metaphor works for ya, the point is the same,” Techno said.

“You’re really sure… You really think Dream doesn’t care about me?” Tommy seemed to be slowly pushing towards a conclusion. “That he’s not… checking in on me, he’s…”

“Checking up on you.”

“What’s the difference?”

“He’s not checking because he cares about how you are, otherwise he wouldn’t be screwing with your head and robbing you blind,” Techno continued the conversation almost casually, honey gathered, and headed back towards the house. “Again, this is just what I think from what you’ve told me. He’s checking up on you, as in making sure you’re keeping in line. If you’re pathetic and terrified and desperate for his approval you’re not planning an insurgency, now are you?”

“Insurgency? That’s like, revolution, right?” Tommy followed, listening with shocking attention. He wasn’t trying to defend Dream or refute Techno’s thoughts, he was listening.

“Uh huh. Like, hard enough to do that when you’re stuck out here, but I guess he needed to be sure.”

“Needed to be sure…” Tommy paused just outside the house, cogs turning. “Do you think..?” He trailed off. “He wouldn’t be out here watching me, right, if he wasn’t worried about what I might do.”

“Uh. Yeah.”

“Dream… Dream is scared of me. He’s actually scared of what I might do,” Tommy let out a barking laugh, disbelieving. “You know what that means, right?”

“...No. Actually, I don’t.”

“It means, Techno, we could stop him. We could actually do something. If I’m a threat, that means I’ve got leverage, and leverage means I’ve got a chance at getting my discs back!” Tommy’s excitement was ramping up. Techno was unenthused.

“Right. How’re you planning on doing that?” Techno was glad that Tommy seemed to be rejecting Dream’s hold on him, but everything else he was saying sounded utterly insane.

“I mean, I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but you’ve done it before. I know we can do this,” Tommy sounded too certain, following Techno inside and pacing the length of the cabin.

“We? What’d you mean we?” Techno scoffed. “Did you not hear my whole mantra? I’m retired. I’m not going to fight your wars, Tommy. I got enough’a that last time.”

Tommy frowned. “You’re the one talking up how I shouldn’t let Dream screw with me anymore.”

“Yeah, I stand by that part, but why’d you decide I gotta be involved?” Techno raised an eyebrow at him. “You can’t actually think I’d come out of retirement to fight for you again. We were literally just arguing about why that was such a mess last time.”

“But– But you said–”

“I said Dream didn’t care about you. That’s all, Tommy. The rest you figured out on your own,” Techno said, so unfeeling and apathetic now. It was safer that way. “Good luck, I mean that, but I’m not fighting again.” Techno turned away from him, more focused on his bottles of honey than on Tommy staring at him, mouth hanging open slightly.

“You can’t be serious,” Tommy tried to get in his line of sight, tried to garner some attention so he could change things. Talking people into a fight was one of Tommy’s greatest talents, half the time against him, but he had also convinced so many people to fight for L’Manberg long after Wilbur went over the edge. He could do so again. “Techno, your whole thing is stopping tyrants– And Dream is the biggest tyrant out there! He treats us all like– like bugs–”

“He treats you like a bug. He hasn’t bothered me,” Techno maintained his cold facade. Techno wasn’t entering another war, not even for– especially not for Tommy. Not again.

“What, so all this was just you playing along and pretending to make me feel better?” Tommy was quickly growing more upset.

“I’m not pretending. I’ve been nothing but honest. I’ve let you stay here half the time, what more do you want from me?” Techno frowned, doing his best not to respond with frustration.

“I want you to help me. I can’t… I can’t do this on my own,” Tommy went from anger to desperation far too easily.

“I have been helping you, I’m just not gonna fight for you,” Techno refused to waver.

“Techno, Techno, please, I can’t fight Dream alone. I need something to help me. I want to fight too, but you could defend me–”

“That’s enough, Tommy!” Techno burst out. Tommy, out of carelessness rather than real cruelty, had done exactly what Techno had been resisting. It wasn’t just the responsibility this warranted, it was that this made him feel like just a weapon again. He refused to be like that ever again. Techno had tread lightly around Tommy through all of this, he knew he was hurting and scared, but that didn’t mean he was going to be used by him again. Unfiltered anger bubbled up, they had finally found even ground, they had finally felt like brothers again, and all of it was crumbling away as Techno rebuilt his walls. Techno wasn’t a weapon. With each word he stepped closer, cornering Tommy towards the door. “I’m not your babysitter, I’m not your friend, I’m not the Blade and I’m not gonna rescue you from your own choices.”

It was cruel. Techno was too angry to care. I need something to help me. Techno wasn’t going to be that something. No way in hell.

Techno didn’t know why he still expected Tommy to blow up into anger, to yell about how much he hates him, that lack of passion was part of the whole problem. Instead, Tommy just goes quiet, no longer looking at him, backed against the door. “Right, then,” he says it softly, certainly, like an understanding had been met, but all it yielded was bitterness. “Glad we cleared things up.”

Techno’s first instinct was to apologize, his second was to stand his ground. The voices seemed conflicted on the matter as well, half praising him for defending himself and his newfound pacifism, the rest demanding he make it up to Tommy.

Tommy, without a word, took off the cloak he had gotten and moved to drop it on the floor.

Keep it, Techno wanted to say. He couldn’t explain why he held his silence. Why he stayed there even as Tommy left, even as the silence of the cabin suffocated him, the cloak crumpled on the floor seemed to take up more space. “He’ll be back, guys. He always comes back.”

#dream smp fic #/roleplay #c!tommy #c!techno #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois fanfic #dsmp

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hydrangeaho3 · 3 years

Text

Cardamom

summary: Philza teaches Tommy how to make tea.

a/n: my first fanfic so um it’s probably garbage but here ya go.

It was the heat that dragged Tommy out of bed. He tried to go back to sleep but his comforter was sweaty and gross, forcing Tommy to push it off of him. The eight-year-old didn’t normally wake up this early but the heat and the all-together disgusting state of his bed forced him to venture downstairs.

As he crept down the stairs, careful not to wake his brothers or Phil, he could feel his hand sticking to the banister. Tommy had wanted to eat a cookie first thing in the morning but before he was able to grab one and run back upstairs, he saw a figure humming at the stove.

Tommy tiptoed until he reached Phil before jumping onto his back. Phil startled, moving away from the stove and struggling to remove whatever was on his back before realising just who was hanging off of him like a little monkey.

“Good morning Tommy,” Phil murmured, trying to salvage the quiet peace of the morning knowing Tommy was going to be causing a commotion any second. “You’re up early aren’t you?”

To his surprise, Tommy only nodded as he slid off of Phil’s back and onto the floor. Instead of his usual energy, Tommy also seemed intent to keep the calm.

“You’re quiet today Tommy. You feeling okay down there?”

“’m just tired,” Tommy replied. “And hot” he tacked on a second later.

“I feel ya. This summer has been intense”

“What’re you doing?”. Some of Tommy’s energy returning to him.

Phil had been in the middle of taking out a pot and placing it on the stove.

“I’m making tea. You wanna help?” Phil asked. Tommy nodded once more from the floor.

“Do you know what the most important ingredient is in tea?” Tommy just looked up at him expectantly. Phil smiled as he ruffled the boy’s hair.

“It’s cardamom, it’s the most important ingredient in tea but people often forget it because they think it’s useless, but they’re wrong Tommy. They’re very wrong. It may be small but it packs a punch,” Phil explained as he turned the stove on. Tommy sat at his feet, listening to Phil’s words, his head leaning against the warmth of Phil’s legs.

It was early enough for the noises of outside traffic to be a fuzzy backdrop against Phil’s soft words. The morning light streamed through the windows of the kitchen, illuminating the quiet scene.

For as long as Tommy could remember, Phil’s had the same thing for breakfast every day; tea with biscuits. It was a habit he’d instilled into all of his three sons, even though they all preferred other breakfast foods. Habits like those were hard to break.

“Can you grab the milk from the fridge, Tommy?” Phil asked, craning his neck as he turned to make sure the young boy was following his instructions. Tommy did what was asked, struggling slightly to set the heavy carton on the counter.

“How many people do we need to make it for?” Phil asked, smiling slightly.

“4?” Tommy replied, unsure of himself. His eyes watched Phil walk around the kitchen, following as he grabbed other ingredients from their respective homes: the sugar and tea leaves from the pantry, some cardamom seeds from the drawer. The moment Phil pulled open the drawer, Tommy ran over.

Tommy was known for telling more than the occasional lie but he truly believed that the drawer Phil was opening held all the spices in the whole wide world and he wasn’t shy of telling that to strangers.

The reality wasn’t so different, inside was a round steel container filled with every flavor imaginable. The seeds Phil used to make the morning tea, the spices Wilbur had bought a couple of summers ago on his quest to become a better cook, the same ones Techno was so distrustful of.

It was a home for all the smells and tastes Tommy had come to associate with his life.

Tommy was brought back to the conversation by Phil’s quiet rumble as he tried not to wake the two kids sleeping upstairs.

“Yup, we’re four people. So that means you need four cups of milk and four cups of water, one cup for each person that wants tea. Then you do the same measurements for the tea leaves and sugar, one spoonful per person,” Phil explained, Tommy staring into the pot as the water began to simmer. When the water finally started to boil, in went the milk and a few minutes later, the sugar and leaves.

Tommy sat back down, craving the coolness from the tiles. The hot summer air drifted through the open window, inviting him to come play outside. It reminded him of afternoons spent with Tubbo playing pirates and chasing each other around.

“Now’s the most important part,” Phil pulled open the famed drawer and took out a small bottle. Sitting on the floor Tommy couldn’t tell what it was but as soon as the lid was squeezed off, the pungent smell of cardamom wafted through the air.

Phil handed Tommy the bottle and a small pewter bowl to crush them in. Tommy squeezed himself between the oven and pantry and got to work. The stone was cold to the touch and foreign in his hand. His grip was clumsy when he started, the seeds so small that they slipped and landed on the sides of the bowl without being crushed at all but he kept practicing.

A couple minutes had gone by before Tommy presented his creation: a small handful of crushed cardamom seeds. Phil took the bowl from him and poured it over the tea that was slowly forming, Tommy watching in wonderment.

“Now we stir,” Phil said, handing Tommy a spoon to use. Tommy cautiously leaned over the pot and dipped the spoon in. He began to methodically move his hand as he forgot about the blistering heat outside. Slowly but surely the tea began to come together as the familiar smell permeated the kitchen.

From their rooms, the muffled voices of Wilbur and Techno floated down the stairs.

“It’s done now Tommy, you can stop stirring,” Tommy removed the spoon and placed it in the sink a couple of feet away.

“What we need to do now is drain the tea and then serve it” Phil grabbed the pot by the steel handle, the heat seeping into his hand. He held it over the sink in one hand and in the other was a cup with a strainer placed over it. Slowly he began to pour, the tea filling the cup as the larger objects were caught in the strainer.

“Can you get me 3 more cups? They should be in the cupboard across from you” Phil asked.

Tommy nodded in response as he grabbed a stool and dragged it underneath the cabinet. He stared up at it for a moment before stepping onto the stool, opening the cupboard, and grabbing three cups similar to the one in Phil’s hand. He placed them next to the sink, waiting for them to be filled up.

Not before long, 4 steaming cups of tea had been placed on the dining room table while a plate of biscuits sat at the center. From upstairs, the noises of Techno and Wilbur were getting louder, a sure sign that they were going to be coming downstairs any minute.

Tommy took his seat at the table and grabbed a cup of tea before pulling the plate of biscuits towards himself. Behind him, unbeknownst to Tommy, Phil watched him, smiling slightly. It had been so long since he'd done something with Tommy, just the two of them. It was a nice change of pace.

Soon the sound of footsteps pounding against the older staircase filled the kitchen as Techno and Wilbur stepped into view. They both grabbed a cup of tea before resuming their conversation.

Tommy watched them, waiting with bated breath to see if his brothers liked it. To his surprise, both Techno and Wilbur seemed to have liked it even if they didn't find anything different about it.

The conversation resumed around him and suddenly the hot summer air didn't seem so bad. He couldn’t remember how long he had been sitting there but by the time he realised what was going around him, Wilbur and Techno had left and it was just him and Phil sitting at the table. The sun had risen and was almost out of sight through the windows.

Phil ruffled his hair “You did good Tommy.”

Tommy smiled. “Of course I did good Phil. You know I am the biggest man in this house.”

Phil smiled back.

Quiet settled over the kitchen again.

If Tommy continued to wake up earlier than normal for the rest of summer, it was nobody’s business but his and Phil’s.

#minecraft #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur #technoblade #sbi #sbi found family #fluff #oneshot #mcyt #mcytsbi #dream smp #sbi fanfic #fanfic #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy bois au #philza minecraft #cooking #tea

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saltandsilverstories · 4 years

Text

The Doors of Stone

Something lays beneath the glossy, blue tarps beside the doors. Patches of anti-snow paint portions of the tarp black, while small rivulets slide to the ground where the build-up grows too heavy. I stick my hand into one of the streams, watching it pile along the side of my glove, spill over the edge of my fingers, and trickle into the gaps between the bones of the skeletal foot peeking out from under the tarp.

I shake my hand clean, and tug the edge of the tarp over the foot. The Stasis Suit crinkles as I stand up, pressing a small button on my right wrist.

Please state your command.

“Run external status report,” I tell the Suit.

Scanning within a 100 kilometre radius. Please standby.

There is a slight delay.

External status report is as follows:

Depth status: 2,000 meters below surface

Temperature: -32°C

Precipitation: 90% chance of light anti-snow

Wind activity: Low

Flora: Undetected

Fauna: Unknown

My brows crease. “Elaborate on fauna.”

Fauna of an unknown species and/or origin has been detected.

A sharp bolt of adrenaline shoots from the centre of my chest and out, spreading down until my toes curl within my boots. “Approximate distance to fauna.”

Fauna detected at a distance of approximately 15 kilometers northwest.

I glance at the compass in the upper right corner of my Visor Display, then at the doors.

“Contact surface.”

Contacting Syndicate Technology. Please standby. A representative will be with you shortly.

A quiet jazz tune punctuated by a bossy saxophone fills my helmet speakers. I turn in place, facing the doors.

They are carved from something like ivory or marble, a pale stone with thin, grey veins and specks that glitter in the beam of my helmet lamp. They are polished so smooth that they glisten as if wet. Intricate patterns of swirls and loops cover its length, along with runes composed of straight lines and dots. The anti-snow seems to avoid the doors altogether.

The music cuts out, replaced by the scuffed sounds of someone fumbling with a microphone. “Hi there, Cartographer 4? So sorry for the wait. My name is Wilbur, and I’ll be your Surface Technician for today. What can I do for you?”

“Uh, yeah, hi.” I put my hands on my hips, turning again so I face the tarp. “I ran the status report, and I’m getting a fauna reading.”

“Um…” His chair creaks. “Hm. Is it okay if I request to view your Visor footage?”

“Go for it.”

He goes quiet for a bit, typing. “Well, I can see the notification, and I think it’s probably a glitch with the recent software update. I’ve went ahead and set up automated fauna notifications, just to see if the Suit decides to give it to you again later. Erm, while I have you here, let me just grab your consent one last time before I give you the instructions for the doors, okay?”

“Someone else made me do that before I got in the elevator,” I explain.

“I know, but it’s Protocol.” He needs to work on his apologetic voice.

I press my lips together, exhaling through my nose. My breath briefly fogs my Visor. “Yeah, fine.”

“As per the terms of your contract, you are tasked with mapping at least five kilometres of the area beyond the doors using the software in your Stasis Suit. Should you complete your task, upon your return to Syndicate Technology, your sentence with Ashby City Penitentiary will be terminated immediately. Should you fail, you will resume your sentence until completion with no chance of parole. Your signature on these documents indicate you have heard these conditions prior to this moment and provided consent to this task. C4, do you wish to proceed?”

I lick my lips. “I do.”

"Okay, great. Now let’s get those doors open.”

-----

The city beyond the doors is composed of pillars as tall as skyscrapers, reaching up into the cavernous ceiling. Archways link them, some lined with railings. Those must have been bridges. Buildings, most of them two or three storeys high, sprawl out in all directions, connected by a footpath of clean, square stones.

Anti-snow grinds into the traction grooves of my boots. The scenery remains a constant spread of stonework along both sides of the street, portions of it smudged into the distance by anti-snow build up. There are no air currents for the specks to twirl in. The entire city exists in black and white, a photograph for me to walk through. There are no other sounds than the ones coming from my person. The city is a skeleton, and I walk down its spinal column.

I thought the path I had chosen was the central one with how wide it was, but even so, there were portions of it where the anti-snow had accumulated so much that it almost reached my knees. Each of my footsteps were heavy and slow, my legs aching from the effort it took to move.

My foot catches on something, and I lurch forward, a yell escaping past my lips before I can stop it.

“You okay there?” Wilbur asks.

I push myself to my knees. The oxygen tank on my back makes it difficult to find my balance. “Yeah, I’m good. Just tripped on something.” I feel around under the anti-snow, my gloves gliding along the stones. The object is round and bigger than both of my hands. I pull it free, stumbling a bit.

A helmet. Syndicate Technology’s logo had been mostly scratched off, and the Visor was missing. I turn it in my hands, dumping out the anti-snow it had scooped up during its unearthing.

I gulp, my stomach knotting itself together with the end of my throat.

“Why— What is this doing here?” I ask Wilbur.

He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Just leave it beside the bench over there, on your left, and keep going. You’ve got three kilometres left.”

I don’t say anything, turning the helmet around some more.

“C4.”

I stare at the C2 printed on the top of the helmet, the C almost completely gone.

Approximate distance to fauna: 13 kilometers northwest.

The anti-snow sounds like a paintbrush on canvas as it trickles down my own helmet.

“I want out.”

“Dude, come on--”

“No, fuck this.” I lower the helmet, holding it at my side by its brim. “I’m not staying in this stupid cave if I’m not gonna make it out of here.”

“You’re gonna be just fine, I promise,” he continues.

“What happened to C2, then? Why’s his helmet here?”

He makes an exaggerated sigh. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

I lick my lips, smacking the helmet against my thigh. “I knew him. His name was Lewis.”

Wilbur doesn’t have any response.

“You know his wife still shows up on visitation day? Like she doesn’t know where he is? But none of us have seen him since December.”

Wilbur’s breath enters his mic before his words. “I’m sorry, but if you back out now, you don’t get another shot at this. You can’t sign up again, and you can’t pick up where you left off. This is a one time deal.” He pauses. “It’s up to you.”

I groan, turning around and looking back down the way I’d come in before turning again and looking up the path I’d yet to explore.

“What do I do with it?”

“Just leave it there. You’re not supposed to bring anything back,” he instructs.

“But it’s from the surface.”

“Doesn’t matter.” The patience is dwindling from Wilbur’s voice, his tone as flat as the colour palette of the city.

I stare down at Lewis’ helmet, at the gap his eyes would’ve seen though, the way mine were now. “Fine.” I dropkick the helmet down the street. It clatters against the side of a building before making a faint crunch as it lands in an anti-snowbank.

“That wasn’t necessary,” Wilbur says, quiet.

“Fuck you.”

I keep walking.

-----

Wilbur spits out instructions as if he actually believes I’d follow them. Stick to the main pathways, don’t squeeze between buildings, don’t knock over language tablets, stop sitting, don’t cover the VisorCam.

“You’re not supposed to go into the buildings,” he told me, his voice existing somewhere within his nostrils. “We don’t know how structurally sound they are.”

“Well,” I clear the anti-snow off the stairs leading up the nearest building with my boot, “let’s find out.”

“This is a dumb idea.”

“You’re a dumb idea.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

As I step into the doorway, the building shakes, the ground buzzing with a heavy vibration. A thick, low tone comes from everywhere. It is a sound so heavy it settles atop my shoulders, making my knees quake. I hold onto the door frame, gripping it with both hands, trying to stay standing. My teeth clench, and a few pixels in my Visor Display short out, flashing neon green or blacking out entirely. The anti-snow outside bounces in a zig-zag pattern, moving slightly upwards before shooting down.

After a few moments, it stops. I leaned on the door frame, panting. The pressure of the sound made me forget to breathe.

“What are you doing?” Wilbur asks.

I scowl. “Did you not see any of that just now?”

“Any of what? You wasting time?”

“No, dickhead, there was some earthquake or something, and there was this sound…” I search my head for the right way to convey aloud what that sound felt like.

“It was probably just the software again,” he states. He’s not listening to anything I’m saying.

“It was out here, in the city, not in the Suit,” I insist, shaking my head.

“No, don’t, don’t do that,” he chides, “it makes me dizzy.” He clears his throat. “Maybe it was a windstorm revving up,” he continues. “You’d better hurry up and get this done quick then.”

“No, it wasn’t the wi--”

Approximate distance to fauna: 12 kilometers northwest.

My heartbeat occupies the silence that followed the notification, slapping against the inside of my ears.

“Head southwest from here,” Wilbur says.

I clench and unclench my hands into fists a few times to stop them from trembling.

I take a deep breath. “Okay.” I step back outside.

-----

I walk for another half an hour at least, along the same twisting road. The farther I go, the more dense the debris becomes. The state of preservation decays until I am climbing over chunks of roof four times my size, and shoving myself under sections of pillar that had fallen from the sky bridges above the city.

I stop in the centre of a side-street. A boulder fills the entirety of the way, with nowhere to go but over. I grab onto a protrusion, hauling myself on top. A grunt escapes my chest in a puff of breath that fogs my visor from the inside. My boots dislodge anti-snow and gravel as I try to keep myself from wobbling. I’m much higher off the ground than expected.

“Holy shit.” I don’t mean to say it out loud, but I do.

The street is a collection of shards and fragments. The buildings are reduced to framework, the stones of the path dug up and strewn about, tossed like dice. Along the one wall that remains intact, a gash bisects it, a deep wound in the flesh of a former housing unit. Or maybe it had been a storefront. It is an impact site, with cracks webbing above and below the scar.

“What?” Wilbur smacks his lips.

“Are you eating?” I turn my head as I ask, as if he’d be standing beside me on the boulder.

A crunch. “It’s noon, and I already took my break.”

“You couldn’t have eaten then?”

“Wasn’t hungry then. So what happened?”

“You seeing this?” I ask.

“What?”

“This.” I turn in a circle, slowly, letting the camera do its work. “The street.”

“Oh, yeah.” Is he licking his fingers? “Mmhmm,” he pauses, swallowing, “It was probably the windstorms.”

“There’s no way.”

“Could be, though. Can’t rule it out. We can’t really get a read on anything.” Another crunch, and his breath shoves itself into his mic. “The storms fuck with the equipment.”

Attention: Distance goal met. Please return to the antechamber and wait for further instructions.

“You heard her, time to head back,” Wilbur says between chews.

“Do you have to be eating right now?” I ask.

“No, but I’m hungry.”

“It’s annoying as fuck.”

“So are you, now get moving.”

“Fine, Jesus.” I hop down from the boulder and start walking back the way I’d come, following the map I’d made with the Stasis Suit’s software.

Approximate distance to fauna: 9 kilometres north.

“Maybe walk faster,” Wilbur urges, swallowing whatever he’s eating.

“Right.” I start jogging.

I get about a kilometre away before another notification follows.

Approximate distance to fauna: 7 kilometres north.

He takes a sharp breath. “Run.”

“What?” My heart seizes.

“Run, right now.”

My boots skid on the anti-snow every now and then, and then I notice it.

“Uh, Wilbur,” I say, slowing down to make sure I’m seeing it correctly.

“Yeah? Wh— why are you stopping? I said run.”

“The anti-snow’s moving up.” I tilt my head back, peering up at the void that the city calls its sky.

“Fuck.” He kisses his teeth. “You’re about a kilometre from the antechamber… shit, uh, you see that building on your left?”

I turn my head. A section of its roof is missing, and its doorway lacks its door. “Yeah?”

“Get inside and brace. Quickly now, you don’t have much time.”

“Wh--”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.”

I do as he says, sitting on the floor with my back to the only wall without cracks, tucking my head into my knees, wrapping my arms around my body.

“What’s happening?” I ask, my voice muffled from my face being so close to the Visor glass.

“You’re gonna be o--”

His voice is replaced by the tone from earlier. It comes from above and below, the entire city shaking from its vibrations. I shut my eyes, curling into a fetal position. In the distance, something crashes. Maybe a wall fell apart, or a pillar came loose.

The building I’m in lurches, the stones rumbling like a waterfall. The roof roars, and I can tell the portion of it that remained was no longer attached to the building. I slide along the floor, my eyes still closed. Something lands on my left leg, crushing it. I scream, grabbing onto my helmet.

The tone stops, and the vibration vanishes.

I lay on my back, staring up at the gap where the ceiling used to be, tears sliding up my temples and into my hair. Anti-snow lands on my Visor, obscuring my vision. I shudder, my teeth clenched as the pain from my leg worsens. I lift my head for a second, quickly wiping off the anti-snow, and see the massive block of roof that lays on top of my leg.

“Oh, fu-hu-huck,” I say, unable to hold myself up any longer.

“C4, come in.” Wilbur’s voice is grainy. “C4, what’s your status?”

I cough, the sudden movement sending stabs of pain up from my leg. “I’m here, status… fuck, I don’t know.” I groan, wanting to roll on my side, to move so that my leg hurt less, but I was stuck. “My leg…” The pressure of the block seemed to increase, and I screamed again.

“I know, I saw the stone.” The Stasis Suit’s voice has more variation than his. “Just stay still, okay? That was a windstorm just now.”

The pressure worsens even further, and I can’t take it anymore. With another shout, I yank myself as hard as I can away from the brick. I move a few inches, and something by my calf tears.

Warning! Rapid Depressurization! Warning! Loss of Oxygen Imminent!

“I just told you not to move!” There’s no more understanding in his words.

I cough again, my eyes feeling heavy. “It hurt so bad, man, you don’t understand.”

“Yeah, well now it’s gonna hurt even more.” He mutters something too quiet to be heard over the alarms. “You need to cover the hole in the Suit with something. Just push yourself back under the block.”

Nausea began to climb up my throat. “No way, I can’t do that.”

“It’s either that or have your organs liquefy from breathing in the anti-snow.” He lets his statement hang between us. “Your choice.”

I prop myself up onto my elbows, staring at the huge chunk of stone. My breathing is erratic, and I lick my lips. “Fuck.” I yell as I force myself forwards again, my leg feeling like it was being run over by a jet.

I take a few seconds to try and bring some sort of rhythm back into my breathing. The alarms quiet down. Wilbur types away at his end.

“Shit,” he says, typing more.

“What?”

He exhales sharply. “I think the collapse messed with the transmitter on your Suit. I can’t see your tracking data, and the save file is corrupted on my end. Let me reset the connection and see if it does anything.”

My beam from my headlamp begins to flicker.

Approximate distance to fauna: 6 kilometres north.

“Did you get that?” I ask.

“What?”

“The fauna notif.”

He grunts. “No.” He grumbles something. “I need to get my supervisor. Maybe the Commander…”

I clench and unclench my hands, my palms sticking to the inside of my gloves. “Why? What’s happening?”

“I’m gonna be right back. I need… Ah, shit, shit, shit.” He hits a bunch of keys.

“Wh-- You’re just gonna leave me here?” He can’t be serious.

“Just for a second. I’m not disconnecting, okay? I’m gonna initiate Rescue Protocol before I go.”

“You can’t.” You cannot leave me by myself.

“I’m just taking off my headset. I gotta go to the Commander’s office. Don’t worry. It’s gonna be fine. You’ll be fine. I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Wait--”

RESCUE PROTOCOL INITIATED

The words flash a few times before bannering at the bottom of the Visor.

Stay calm. Help is on the way. Syndicate Technology — The Future Is Here

“Wilbur?”

No answer. The asshole actually left.

My breath presses against the Visor glass like a greasy fingerprint, obscuring my view of the gaping hole above me. Anti-snow continues to fall, blacking out my line of sight. I can’t reach my arm high enough to wipe the centre of the Visor. A thin crack branches out from the bottom right of the glass.

“Fucking hell,” I say, hoping Wilbur might hear me.

My body aches, my leg on fire. Something wet trickles down from my forehead, between my brows, and into the corner of my eye. It’s warm, and stings when it meets my tear duct. I blink quickly, trying to clear my eye, but it just stings more. Fresh tears are pulled from my eyes, and my vision goes blurry until they dry again.

In the distance, something explodes, or maybe it implodes, whatever it was. It creates a boom, an impact so intense it sends a strong wind gusting through the city, whistling through the cracks in the building, and blowing the anti-snow off my visor.

Approximate distance to fauna: 5 kilometres north.

A sound comes from everywhere. The vibration drills up through from below, lodging itself in my chest. The tone is so heavy it adheres to my skin through my suit, and sucks the air from my lungs. I strain against the weight of the sound. It fuses me in place, my limbs tense and unresponsive. My jaw locks, my teeth clench.

I slam my arm against the ground, hoping to press the button on my wrist, but I miss, and end up crying out from the impact.

I can’t just lay in place, waiting for whatever that was to get here.

I take one deep breath, as deep as I can manage through the weight of the tone and the intensity of the vibration, and rip my leg out from under the roof chunk.

The Suit alarms resume, and I don’t have time to be bothered by them. I roll onto my stomach, grabbing my wrist and the command button. I press it rapidly, but the Suit doesn’t respond.

“Hello? Wilbur?”

No answer.

Warning! Oxygen Level at 90%

Approximate distance to fauna: 4 kiloḿȩ̰͖t̸̼̣̤̲͍͙e̞̠͢r̛̬͓̼̬̲s̛͈̗̹̩̟ͅ ͈͍̠̞͕n̠̳̟̫o͈r̥̩͕̱̯̦ͅt̞̭̯̞͎h

Shit.

The notification is garbled, obscured by green and magenta pixels blinking in and out. Static comes through my earpiece, screeching. I press the command button again, but the noise continues. A rumbling continues, somewhere above me, or deep below. Gravel and dust clatter off my helmet as it trickles down from above. The anti-snow churns, moving unaffected by gravity.

I drag myself out of the building by my forearms, tumbling down the stairs once I cross the doorway. I land on my stomach, the impact of my helmet against the stones adding another crack to the existing break pattern. I continue to pull myself along the ground, dredging up anti-snow as I move.

My breaths scrape down my throat, the air a cocktail of anti-snow and dust. I start coughing, and red droplets splatter against the inside of my visor, dripping between the cracks in the glass.

W͙a̟r͍ń̥̝͉̼̬į̦̠̮͔͈ͅn̳̻̙g͉̙̗!͙̲͔̠̖̩ ͏̭̞͓̳̱O̕x͓͚y̟͖̫g̳e͝n͈͈̪̘̪̕ ̠͈̬̞̪̼̱Ḻ̪̼̰̮̲͞e̯̦̝v̟e̷̝̙͈̫͓̭l̫̜͙̞̗͔ ̱̞͝a҉̦͍̰̳ț͉͜ ̗̱͇̟͇̺5̵̼̮͖̫̭0̸̬͙%͚̺͟

A̩̭̣p̀p̳̩̬̀ṛ̷̬̗̬̩o̤̤̗̻̱x̧̗i҉͇̻m̻a͓͈̯͍̼t̰͈̣̺͇̩̥͡e̦͉̗̟ ̲͓̞di̭̦͙̬s̢̺̞͇͙ta̶͎͎͈͎̦n̘̫͎̗̥̖͘c͚͈̪͓̪e̼̼̪͈̭̖͚ ̪̠͎͎̖͔̭t̻͈̣͢o͙̗̲̫͓̩̕ ̼̖̗̬̩f̶̟ͅa͍u̮͚̹͔̬͝n̤̜͖͈a̯̤͉͕:̴̖̮̟͇ ̧̯3̡̫̝͕̬ ̹͠k̳͖͔̤͙i̝̰͎̞͓l̜͘o͎m̦̠e͕̖͚̠̳t͚r̛̲̩̠̳e̢̩̪̣͎͚s̴̩͚̗̞̫ n̴̰͖̬͙o̢͈͓̖r̶̳͔͚tẖ̫̟͖

The notifications stack on top of each other as the centre of my visor display. My suit hisses as it leaks oxygen from the opening on my leg, and another by my elbow, the gas forming a fog around where I lay. My arms give out from under me, my visor cracking against the stones as I submit to the pressure. The screen is laced with shatter webs, sections of it completely dead. The static in my earpiece shorts out, a piercing, high pitched noise replacing it every now and again. The suits speakers blare warped chimes and bells, the sounds overlapping.

A͈̲pp̠͉̪̞r͜o͚̙̳͚̹͙̬x̤̦̰̤̼̟͟ͅi͓̠̦̬̮̗̫m̶̻̝̪̱a̫͇̳̫̟t̖̜e̠͖͓̥ ̭̖̤͓ḑ̜͉͎̩i̱͇st͝a̸̤̱̭nͅc̷̫̰͙e̞̹̲ ̩͕͎̯t̨ó̳͉̙̥̮̦ ̢͍̬̘̰͔f̗̬̻͕͚̝́a͟ṵ̡̭̤͓̬͕͖n̠̯͚͈̰͍̯ą̜͖̱̝̦:͉̙͚̜ ̴̹̥͚2̜̣͠ k̙̹̪̤̭̺̼i̲̺͙l͙̤̺o̫m͏̲e̹͇͔͙t̼̱̪re̯̥s̮͔̻̳ͅ ̩͙͇̳͝n͓͢o̺̫͉̠͓͝r̝͈̪̺̜͉̣͡t͖͉͍͖̣̠h

My gloves search for grooves between the path stones, something to latch onto. Each time I find one, I wedge my fingers in the space, hauling myself forward along the ground. The vibration sits on my back, pressing me into the path, trying to merge me with the earth.

The Rescue Protocol banner pixelates and warps, the letters rearranging themselves.

Ş̠̤̮T̢̲̟̳̙̘̟A̡͇̩̥Y̺̬ ̳̕WI̼TH̥̣̥̠̝̺̘ ̧͙̰͈̭Ṳ͟S̘̬͓̤̠ ̖̹̀S̨̭̗̺͖̼TA̩̟̰̹̜̜Y͕̻̰͔̙̤͝ ̮͕̫̞ͅW̘̼͈̳̙͕͍I͖̱̮̘̫̘͢T̩̩̹H͚̯̙̞́ ͖͍̩UŚ̺̫̜̱̣̖̗ ̞̠̙͜S̩͈̭̮T̰͍͇̲Ạ̡̯̫̞̬͉Ỵ͢ ̸̯̲̘͖͖̝W̠͇̳͝IṰ̜̝͙̥̬H̦̦͓̹̣̙̟͝ ̕U̢S̴̤͕̤̲̩̼͈

W̳̪̙͙̝̰͝á͍̫͙̤͉̳r̷̘͍̺̠͙̱̪n̗̬̳̪i͍̕n͖͔̼g͕͕!̴͎ ̛͔͖͖̩̟O҉͖͔̪̪̗̯x̯͔͙̼̟͎ͅy͏̰̱̝͓̖̮g̙̦̳̖̻e̴n̦͍͕̩̰͖ ̟̮̣̖͉͇̯Lͅe̙̱͙̠̼͉̮v̼e͚̻̹̘̲̥ļ̣ ͏̭̙̰̰̞͎a̷̫̮t̗͖̖̮̤͖̼ ͍͚͖4̴̗̟͉ͅ0͓̘͍̥̲ͅ%͇͇͖̺͇

The light from the antechamber leaks just up ahead. I’m so close.

À͉̲̳͙͈̺̤p҉̲̣p҉̖̙̗͕̥ṟ͓̭͙̗o̗͚x̷͍̮͓̹i̧̱͙͙̳͔m͎͚̣͞a̘͚̼̤̳̣ͅt͕̻̦̥͈̖ͅe̗̲͉̜͉͢ ͏̰̭d̟̞̖̪͚͍̟̀i̪̟͖͖̥s͖̻͙t̴͓̜͕a̲̯̹̺nc̤̬̪͙e̢ t͈̖̜̗̘́ơ̤̝̝̲͉͓̙ ͉̮̗̬̦̝f̨͎̲͚̘̹̜̫a̫̦̦ṷ̣̯͔̮n͕̬͍̠͖̙a̴̱͉̪̯:͈̗̝̟̟͙ ̧̺5͙̗̭͍̦͈̤0̞̬̟̲0͡ ̯̞͉̠͈̯m̤̻̻e̘̪͙̘͟ͅt͓͓͚̺̘͈̦̕r̫̖͓̗̖̱e̛̘̣̖̱̞ş̣ ̼̻̗̪͖͕n̪̟̞̕ơ̯͇̱̟r̢͍̻̰̳̬ţ̫͇̱̠͇͍h̨̞͉

My display dies, and the audio system black out. The sound embeds itself in my bones, splitting into my cells. It invades my composition, tearing me apart, rippling across my skin, and forcing itself from me in screams that don’t make it to my ears. It is within me, reshaping me, compressing and expanding my form all at once.

My gloved fingers reach out somewhere ahead, trying to pull myself into the light that exists where I can no longer see.

Black smoke billows around me, engulfing everything in shadow. It seeps into the opening in my suit. I cough as it enters my lungs, gagging on the flavour of dry soil and pennies.

Ạ̤p̠͍p͙̭̦̦̳̖̀r̦͖͉̻͚ox̷̞̣̯͔̙̮̲i̢̞̠̟̱m̪̰̣͉̝̭͉a̛͚t̵̬̟̬̬̤e͜ ̲̯̭͖d͎̥̮͈̙̤i̭̬̳̖̦ͅͅs̸t̬͇̘̖̯̣̺anc̢̮e̳̫ ̮̜͈͙̗̳ţ̙̦̜o ̜̟͠f͏͉͈̝ͅa̯̗̬͓̩͡u͉̰̞̫̦̜̳͟n͜a̴̪͍̤ͅ:̛̥̜̺ ̭̟̙̮w̛̠͈e̙̜͚̼̮̝͙͡ ̤̫̮͔̠́a̯͓͓̘̼͞ͅṛ̶͖̜e̱̯ ͎͖̦͙̪͘he̵̻͉r͚̦̝̤̬̩̞e̢̮̳̩̫ ̪͓̖n̜͈͈̻̖̬̯͝ǫ̯̰̮̝͉͚w

The tone of the vibration shifts even lower, the sound no longer audible. Tightness coils around my ankle, and pulls me deeper into its expanse. My fingers tingle through the gloves as the ground speeds by underneath.

The world disappears. We become one.

#if you read the og version on creepypasta no you didnt #this is that story reworked across my entire senior prose workshop #theres actually more formal shit done but i cant change text colour on here??#mywriting #i like how this one turned out #prof said i could do more tho #who knows #anyway ily

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lizabethstucker · 3 years

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Asimov's Science Fiction (March/April 2017)

Digging into my backlot of science fiction magazines. A mixture of verse and stories. I've only reviewed and rated the stories. This particular issue is the 40th Anniversary one! 3.8 out of 5 "Soulmates.com" by Will McIntosh Daniel wants someone to share his life with, to love and be loved by. When he meets Winnie through a dating app, he thinks she could be the one almost immediately. Emily, his former girlfriend and current best friend, is more suspicious, doing a deep dive on who Winnie could be. Which, considering they never meet in person despite Winnie being in Atlanta and Daniel in Athens, not that long a drive, is valid. Starts extremely slowly, assumingly to establish the characters. Not my favorite way as most writers don't do a good job at it. I'm not entirely certain that this is actually science fiction, despite the use of Artificial Intelligence. As to Daniel, I found him to be incredibly childish, blind, immature, and boring. He learned absolutely nothing from his experience. I struggled to complete this novella. 2.5 out of 5 "Number Thirty-Nine Skink" by Suzanne Palmer It started simply enough, an expedition designed to bring life in balance to an empty planet. Then the humans left suddenly, leaving Mike willingly behind with Kadey whose programming makes the creatures populating the area. When Mike dies of cancer, Kadey continues her work. Until the night something changes. Poor Kadey, struggling with loneliness, possibly incomplete programming, and the knowledge hidden from her regarding why the humans left. Sad, yes, but with a more hopeful ending that is also a beginning. Lovely story, so well written. 4.5 out of 5 "Three Can Keep a Secret..." by Bill Johnson & Gregory Frost A convoluted tale of assassins, misdirection, love, greed, and con-artistry with an almost noir feel to it. It's almost impossible to give a synopsis that isn't chockful of spoilers. The first person narrator isn't totally reliable, but still intriguing in what he shares. I loved this more than I expected with this strange little story. FYI, in case you don't know, the title is from an old saying. Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead. 4.5 out of 5 "The Ones Who Know Where They Are Going" by Sarah Pinsker A child must suffer so the city can be happy, or so they say. One particular child is taken from her mother, locked away in the dark with no social interaction beyond the delivery of food. As time passes, language is lost and memories of a happier time begin to fade. Then one day the door isn't shut tightly and the child gets out of the tiny dark room. She crawls up the stairs, each step bringing back a particular memory, heading for freedom. But at what cost? Rip my heart out, why don't you? Two and a half pages of the most gut-wrenching narrative. The tightly woven writing is painfully descriptive. And the ending! Oh, the ending. I just cannot deal with it. 5 out of 5 "Invasion of the Saucer-Men" by Dale Bailey Teenagers have been foiling alien invasions for some time. After all, the adults are either locked in their homes consuming television or would dismiss the very idea of aliens. The newest landing of a flying saucer bonds together teens out at the local make-out point. Per the author, his idea was to take the cheesy sci-fi and horror movie titles of the 1950s and treat the core idea with some emotional and thematic nuance. Here we have a group of teen archetypes, from the football star to the nerds to the beauty. There are also the followers that are always found in high school. This brings back memories of too many cheesy nights at the drive-ins in my county. I've always found my sympathies fell with the aliens most of the time, faced with humans whose first response to the unknown was always violence. Horrible ending to this story. Horrible. CW: extremely graphic attack. 3 out of 5 "Kitty Hawk" by Alan Smale After receiving word of her brother's death, Katharine Wriht travels from Ohio to North Carolina to help her other brother. Instead of Orville preparing to pack up for the trip home with his beloved

brother's body, he is trying to continue with the flight experiments that killed Wilbur. Katharine finds herself engaged in helping, even learning to fly herself. This is a complete AU of the Wright Brothers and the birth of flight, through World War I and the suffrage movement. The writing is evocative of the time period and the dangers of experimental flight. I don't know why it didn't click with me, but I struggled quite a bit in reading this imaginative tale. I can see others enjoying this greatly, just not me. 3 out of 5 "Cupido" by Rich Larson Marcel is a genius at chemistry. He came up with a way to make pheromones specific to the pair he's paid to bring together, either by one of the potential couple or by a third party. The majority of the money he charges goes to pay for his grandmother's colon cancer treatment. As word gets around, he finds himself moving to smaller cities to avoid identification. As yet, what he does isn't illegal. He didn't expect to find himself attracted to his potential mark. Frankly, I don't consider this to be science fiction at all. The science is already viable. Add the consent issues which would be called dubcon (dubious consent) and I'm too busy cringing to enjoy. In my mind, Marcel is anything but a hero. 3 out of 5 "A Singular Event in the Fourth Dimension" by Andrea M. Pawley Olive was removed from the reducer pile, adopted by a childless couple to help stave off loneliness. Now that the second grandmother is living with them and Mama was pregnant, Olive is worried that she will be sent back to the pile, no longer needed. A loving, imaginative little android who believes in fairy dust, even if the fairies never seem to do anything magical like in the stories. Love doesn't have to be limited to just humans or blood relations. Sweet and touching. 4.5 out of 5 "The Wisdom of the Group" by Ian R. MacLeod There are theories and studies about group-think, how certain groups can intuit a trend or coming situation without any real knowledge. With the right group, the members could get wealthy or probably save the world, depending on their inclination. Samuel has been part of such a group since brought in by his professor while still in university. Now, years later, Samuel is wealthy, has a liv-in lover, three dogs with unfortunate names, and a gorgeous house in Washington state. But something is wrong, something that seems to be originating from Samuel. The response is usually to cut the wrong out of the group. A complicated basis for a disturbing story. I had to sit on this one for a while in order to determine what I felt about it. Definitely strong writing, could almost be considered psychological horror. I don't know if I would ever say that I liked it, but I recognize the work done and the uniqueness of the story. 3.5 out of 5 "After the Atrocity" by Ian Creasey Abu Hameed, the terrorist behind the attack that left ten thousand people dead, has also died during interrogation. The solution? A machine that can make exact copies, complete with memories, of an individual. Violet Ruiz, operator and creator of the machine, even made a duplicate of herself in order to work 24/7. As Hameed's copies die during the enhanced interrogation, more copies are needed. Soon Violet II wonders about the ethical implications. Well thought out consideration of just how far a nation is willing to go in search of revenge wrapped in the disguise of intel. Patriot Act, enhanced interrogation the Greater Good, dismantling both Habeas Corpus and the Geneva Convention, anyone? 4 out of 5 "Goner" by Gregory Norman Bossert In order to explore space, humans had to be converted from flesh into nanotechnology based creatures. The pilots call themselves Goners. Char's best friend's father is a Goner. Already fascinated with the idea of flying, Char uses a sliver of Pilot Clark to begin changing. While this is complete in itself, the story also begs for more. What is happening to Char? Will he be allowed to live his dreams despite his age? S fascinating a concept. 3.5 out of 5 "We Regret the Error" by Terry

Bisson A series of news corrections from the future. So many corrections, even some corrections of corrections. Taken individually, these are amusing. Pieced together, there is a much deeper story playing out. Oh, and a nice dig at Disney's well-known history of not paying some of their artists for their work. 3 out of 5 "Tao Zero" by Damien Broderick Teenagers, incredibly smart ones, have unprotected sex after winning $370 million in the Mega Millions lottery. The celebration leads to a child, the narrator, and the money to try to trap the Tao, the Way that cannot be named, inside a machine. I tried, I really tried to read this without success. After rereading the first two pages over and over in an attempt to struggle through, I put the story aside, hoping to pick it back up when refreshed. Didn't work. DNF

#magazine review #science fiction #Asimov's Science Fiction

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