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Any Pronouns • 21 • American [Seattlite]

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Lost in the Façade

Double post tonight and back on track.

Warnings: Death ; Suicidal attempt and ideation ; Unrequited[?] Love

Words: 3.8k

Getting caught up in the affairs of the gods wasn’t something you were ever hoping to do.

You remember being absolutely terrified when you saw the wooden pillar and a familiar blond sitting at the top. Remember cursing Tubbo once more at the exile of his best friend. Remembered how much you had thought it would be a mistake. Remembered trying your hardest to not make this possibility a reality.

It hadn't been easy to sneak around Dream's back to visit your little brother. It hadn't been any easier to convince Tommy to let you do so either. He was still upset at you, but you could never be mad at him for it. He was right. Siblings don't keep things from each other.

That's why, after knowing what Dream would do to him, it hurt more that he wouldn't tell you.

Dream was standing a bit to the side, laughing, despite the forlorn look on Tommy's face. The urge to kill him again flared in your stomach and you pushed it down. Tommy needed you more than you needed the green man's death.

You nearly flew to the two, hardly feeling your feet touch the ground when your heart was beating as hard as it was.

"Tommy? Tommy, what are you doing up there?" You barely heard his sigh, but he shrugged in response and you spun on Dream. The cool night air bit your cheeks, but your blood was colder. "What is he doing? Why are you just laughing?"

Dream crossed his arms in front of himself. "Oh please, [y/n]. You don't actually think he's gonna jump, do you? He's on one life left. He wouldn't."

You didn't hold the same optimism Dream did. You turned back to your brother, sitting atop the tower before you.

"Tommy? Tommy, please come down. You're scaring me!"

"What's the point, [y/n]?"

"The point is you need to be safe. It’s going to be okay, Tommy. I promise, just come down and-”

“You’re right, it is going to be okay.” He had always wondered what it was like to have wings. He remembered some things of previous lives when he had them, but he never remembered flying. Was this how it felt? The breeze brushing it’s icy fingers through his hair, trying to coax him to fall. Was this how you felt every time you were about to die?

“Tommy!” He looked back down at you, scooting closer to the edge. You looked so small. He felt smaller. It was so hard to focus with all of the thoughts drifting through his mind. No one had come to his party, his interaction with Drista was… lackluster at best. No one cared. He wasn’t in a position of power anymore, who could blame them. You, Ghostbur, and Dream probably only cared out of obligation. He could feel the mist from the sea on his face.

“Tommy, all of us," you shot a glare at Dream, but the man stood there, unphased, "most of us love you, Tommy. We'd be heartbroken if you were gone."

"Then why has no one else visited?" Your heart felt heavy in your chest and your words died on your lips. You didn’t have an answer for the blond. You could only look up at him with eyes that slowly became more glassy the longer he sat up there.

There were flashes in his mind. Ones of him finding Tubbo in another life. The time when he was a vigilante and they had lived together, the other continuously throwing him out of windows. The one where they had become fast friends during an apocalypse. The life where they had raced together and he had fallen down a cliff side.

Tubbo wasn't here for him this time.

The feeling of the breeze brushing through his hair made his back ache, longing for the lives where he had wings. He wondered if dying this time would be like when he and Wilbur were princes. He had awoken in an orchard that was so bright, so warm, he almost longed for the battlefield again. He couldn't remember the name of it now. Blue something? He remembered the morning glories that decorated it and the apple trees that littered the orchard he had awoken in. He remembered how sweet the fruits had been. Like gapples, but with the faint taste of honey. A small part of him hoped he would return there and wait for Phil once more until the next lifetime.

Another gust of wind blew past him and Tommy was shaken from his thoughts, only to hear the two conflicting voices below him.

"I know you just want attention, give it up, Tommy. This is why you don’t scheme."

"Tommy, please come down. It's not worth it. Do not listen to Dream!"

"C'mon, just jump. I know you won't."

"You're worth more than just jumping, Tommy."

"You wanted me here, Tommy. I'm your only friend now."

"You are not his friend, Dream. You're manipulating him."

"I am just telling him what he needs to hear."

Tommy's breath hitched when you shoved the masked man before you. You didn't pvp. What were you doing?

"You are trying to use him. He is not a pawn you can just play with, Dream!"

"Oh, as if you are any better." Tommy watched Dream shove you back. "None of us know who you are, [y/n]. How do we know you're not just a pawn being used yourself against all of us? How do we know you're our friend? We all remember each other. You're a new player in a game where you don't belong."

He stood above you now, porcelain mask lifeless as he started to summon his own sword. "Let's see how many lives you actually have."

Tommy noted how scared you looked, staring back at Dream, but was shocked when you just looked up at him. "Tommy, please. You need to get down. And you need to run."

Dream's sword was in hand. "Tommy, you need to find somewhere safe. Anywhere safe. Please."

An uncomfortable feeling bubbled in his chest at your words. Like you knew what would happen next. Like you knew better and were telling him the future. How could you know when you wouldn’t tell him anything?

"Tommy, you need to be safe. It's going to be okay."

The sun rose and when the light hit you, casting you in a golden glow, he believed you.

Even as Dream ran you through with his sword, he believed you. His chest flickered with long gone pain as he watched the metal disappear into your heart.

So he jumped, water bucket ready.

He landed feet away and began running as fast as he could through the underbrush. His brain was just screaming at him to go back for you. But he knew you wouldn't be there. You'd wake up in your bed here in a few seconds like every other time they had watched you die, and Dream would have him again.

He needed to find Technoblade.

When you returned to where Logstedshire once stood, you relaxed when you saw Dream still there and Tommy gone. Water pooled next to the pole and you knew he had listened to you. The man turned back onto you and you glared back. “You’ve made your last mistake, Dream.”

He didn’t pursue you when you turned back to L’Manburg.

Gods didn’t need to hunt for anything more than fun or revenge.

"He's done it again, Phil!" You nearly screeched through clenched teeth as you slammed the heavy door that led into the angel of death’s house. The immortal barely spared you a glance and continued writing in a small leather bound journal on his desk. Each stroke of the small quill made another perfectly crafted letter, absorbing his interest.

"Take a seat, mate." Phil's voice was bewitching and you immediately perched on one of the warm seats near the fire, sucking in a quivering breath. You took a moment to glance around the familiar home to maybe calm yourself, your sudden need of keeping your composure an agonizing task.

Phil was there when you had awoken on the floor of his home after speaking with Kristin, brimming with knowledge you shouldn’t have known. The man had been alive the longest. Not quite dying, always just flitting between lifetimes on the black wings of his. He had confirmed everything when you had spoken to him about your new memories, comforting you in that special way only a dad could.

Now, as you sat in the comfortable armchair, you could see evidence of every timeline he had lived through and could pinpoint each one. A green plastic bottle, a pair of fuzzy dice, a painting of an unknown woman. She didn’t look like Kristin. There were large wooden bookcases that climbed up the walls filled with great quantities of journals. How many stories did he have to tell? The fire glowing in the hearth set off a gentle glow accompanied by a warmth that made the home all the more pleasing to be in. A small carved board held a thin, dipped stick that burned on the end, causing a delightful scent of vanilla to waft around the room. You sunk into the soft piece of furniture, forcing yourself to relax just a little.

Phil watched you from the corner of his eye. He had seen you stalk across the snowy field and to his front door. You didn’t look happy, but he didn’t expect you to be. There was plenty happening on the server at all times between the same members that were at the heart of it time and time again.

He finished his thought, setting the quill aside and recapping his ink. He’d have to go collect more soon, he was running low. Leaving the page to dry, he walked to the kitchen. His wings rustled gently as they brushed past various objects. You watched him, crossing your arms. “Phil?”

“Yes, mate?” His voice was warm and just as sweet as the vanilla in the air. Fatherly.

“Does it…” You pressed your lips together, trying to properly word the sentence. “Does me being around bother you?”

Phil’s hands paused as he went to feed the furnace to warm a kettle of water. “Why would you ask something like that?”

You shrugged, leaning further into the chair. You weren’t sure if you were trying to hide from your own thoughts or if you were trying to hide from him. “Dream just-”

“Now why would you listen to him? Do you honestly care what he thinks?” You wet your lips, thinking about it.

“Kinda? I care what everyone here thinks.” There was a soft shifting as you heard Phil lean back against the counter. “Some more than others. But I do care.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Keeps you in check from doing somethin’ really wrong.” You hummed in response. “What did he say?”

“He said I don’t belong here.” You heard a scoff.

“Well, we both know that that’s not true.” You thought of Tommy up on the final remains of the territory he had been so proud of. Had he actually gotten away? You thought of Techno, now exiled in the tundra far away from where you sat now. What would he think of your choices? You thought of Wilbur -now Ghostbur- and how, despite you yelling at him being the last thing he heard, he still somehow seemed to love you. Why did he still try so hard when all you seemed to do was help with the aftermath?

A hot mug was pressed into your hands and you looked up at the only one who knew your secret.

“It’s chamomile tea. It’ll help.” You nodded at him, sipping carefully at the beverage. “Tell me everything that happened.”

So you recounted everything that had happened that night until your entrance bright and early in the blond man’s house, including your threat.

“DreamXD’s probably not going to like that you threatened Dream.”

You could only shrug.

“What does it matter? It’s not like killing me will do anything.”

“He’s a god, [y/n]. They have their ways.” You sighed. They were definitely fickle folk. Kristin had been kind enough when you saw her, despite the near-constant migraine you were trying to slowly adapt to, and your few meetings with Drista hadn’t been horrible. But you had never crossed paths with the powerful creation god. If he were anything like Dream himself, you would hate what your first encounter would be like.

“When Drista killed me, it was the same as usual, so I’m not worried. I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs of Tommy’s spiral.”

“When she killed you?” You nodded once more. He didn’t ask anymore questions, and you didn’t supply him with any more answers.

You didn’t fear other gods after your experiences with the first two you had already been bad. They were not bad enough to deter you.

You had first met Drista when she and Tommy were finishing building the Intimidation Tower. It was an ugly thing, made out of cobblestone, and you knew that Wilbur hated that it gave away the location of the ravine, but it made Tommy happy. It made Drista happy. So you convinced Wilbur to just let it be. It made it easier for Tommy to come home when he was lost, anyways.

She had come around a lot more after that. Always attached at the hip to Tommy, always displaying godlike power, always causing mischief. She was decently polite to you, despite being younger than Tommy with a snarky attitude. But they were a good pair to watch. She always seemed to have fun with the blond, especially when he messed up. And despite how upset he seemed to be in the moment, he was always cheerful when he told you about the things he had done with her as you attached plasters to his cuts and salve to his bruises.

So why did you find her atop the intimidation tower without him?

You climbed your way up, sitting down next to her. “Hey.”

She turned her head to look at you, the familiar mask hiding her expression. “What do you want?”

“Kinda wanna know what you’re doing up here by yourself. Tommy’s asleep right now.” You watched her pull a leg up onto the ledge and hug it.

“I’m just thinking. It’s different being around you all than my brothers.”

“Brothers?” She only nodded her head. “I know about Dream, who else is your brother?”

There was a slight shake in her hand as she moved her hair back. “You’ve already met him. It’s DreamXD.”

You snickered. “DreamXD is your brother?”

“Well, yeah, why else do you think I have access to creative mode?” You hummed, looking back out at the rest of the world and away from her. You hadn’t really questioned it. You didn’t really question a lot of things about the semantics of this world. None of it ever made sense.

“Then what happened to Dream?”

“Oh, he was made, not born.” You nodded.

There was a beat, then two. It sunk in.

“Excuse me?” You heard a laugh ring from her lips.

“Why do you think we call him “Clay” sometimes? Why he doesn’t have powers? Why he shifts from life to life like the rest of them?” You took silent notice of the way she said “them” and not “you”. “He’s a creation with just as much of a soul as the rest of the players.”

You chewed on the thought. Did that make her a god as well? You didn’t ask.

“Then what were you thinking about?”

“How fragile you all are.” Your breath caught as you suddenly felt the air rush around you. You couldn’t even scream before you hit the ground, hard. The pain only lasted a moment before a yelp was heard under you and you scrambled off the bed.

Tommy was looking at you with large eyes and you muttered a small “sorry”.

He didn’t even nod at you, just shifted further back against the wall. You could never chastise someone just looking for comfort. “Y’know, it’s a little inconvenient to have you take up my whole bed while I’m out, Toms.”

“What the hell, [y/n]? I didn’t even hear you come in!”

“What were you doing in my bed? I thought I saw you lay down in your own.” You took in the dark bags under his eyes and his messy hair. He didn’t answer you, just looked away with a type of melancholy you knew you’d never hope to match. “The nightmares again, huh?”

He huffed at you, lips turning down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was such an inconvenience.” He shook his head, moving to crawl out. “This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have-”

You moved to block him, sitting on the edge of the shoddily crafted mattress as you grabbed him and pulled him back. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.” You pushed him down gently and laid next to him with an arm across his shoulders. He squirmed in your grasp. “Tommy, stop. Talk to me.”

The blond hesitated before rolling onto his side to look at you. He looked so very young in the dim torchlight. Why did he seem to have to grow up so fast in every timeline? You moved your arm to run your fingers through his hair and he relaxed under the touch.

“Are we doing the right thing? It feels like we’re on some continuous loop and I can’t even tell if I’m just doing this because we’re the good guys or because I’m the little brother and I have to listen.” You hummed, scratching his scalp gently. “I always feel left out of the loop. And whenever I’m let in, I never have a choice on whatever it is. For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something, yeah? Why does everyone keep treating me as if I were a child? And when they aren’t treating me like one, they’re acting like I have all the answers.”

You watched his lips tremble and he scoot closer to press his face to your chest and you held him there. “Why can’t they make up their minds? I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t-” His words broke as he held onto your shirt, pressing his face closer into you. “I don’t-”

You slid your other arm under his head, holding him to you tightly. If you could save him from his own fate, you would have. You two may have not been bound by blood, but he was just as much your brother as he was Wilbur and Techno’s. You would die for him. You would kill for him. You’d do just about anything he asked. You’d protect him from anything.

The gods would have to wipe your existence from everything to get to the ones you loved.

Dream stood next to his brother, floating silently with identical masks. You weren’t afraid of them, but your lip trembled despite your resolve. DreamXD cocked his head at you, as if he himself hadn’t been the one to leave you next to that river and wasn’t aware of your existence. You grit your teeth silently.

“XD.” You greeted. The god’s head corrected before he reached up to remove his mask. An “x” scar crossed his face where his eyes should have been and he grinned at you. He recovered his face once more before blipping out of sight. There would be no fight from him today, but that was a warning.

“Well then, [Y/n], tell me. What do you think would happen to you if they knew your secret? Wouldn’t it make you happy to be able to indulge in the privilege we all seem to have?” You paused, a second turning to a minute, and your heart started to sound like it was beating out of your chest. You considered the possibilities. “Well?”

Dream cursed, his brother now gone. He’d have to do this himself. He too removed his mask and you steeled yourself, crossing your arms. You stared at Dream’s face, bare from the smiling mask that everyone was so accustomed to, displaying the sneer he held special for you. Your back was straight. You were firm. Your gaze unwavering and directing back as much of a threat as his. "I can't understand why you don't like me. You basically built this land from the ground up, and you turn out to be like this?"

His lip curled and your eyes flickered to his lips for a moment before you were back to glaring into his eyes. "You better watch your tongue around me. You can’t fool me with your little “no past lives” act. And you can’t make everyone like you. I know I don’t."

"You're the first who doesn’t, then. And just because you don’t believe that I have no other lives doesn’t mean you can go blabbing to the whole server either.”

“What makes me happy doesn’t matter. If others like me for who I am now, I’m fine.” This turned his curled lip into a full sneer, and you couldn’t stand to look at him anymore.

“See? This is why I don’t like you!” He grabbed your shoulders, and it took every ounce of your willpower to not yank yourself away. “You try to make everyone else happy and leave yourself in the dust! You can’t just do that.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat when you looked back up at him, and your eyes connected once. He wasn’t angry. He was worried. You couldn’t tell if it was for you or for the lost potential, but it was something you had never expected to come from Dream of all people. “Why do you care so much? This doesn’t affect you.”

“Anything concerning my brother affects me.”

“How does this affect XD?” He released you from his grasp.

“Because you are an anomaly and you shouldn’t be here.”

“Then why doesn’t he do something about it? Or Kristin? Or even Drista?” You couldn’t ignore the way he looked away, seemingly ashamed.

“Because they can’t.”

So what did it mean when the gods couldn’t touch you?

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Little Brother Knows Everything

I lied. Here's a bonus chapter.

Warnings: Mention of Death ; Unrequited[?] Love ; Mention of bombs ; Jealousy

Words: 3.1k

Tommy may have been an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He noticed the little things more often than he didn’t. But there were four things he knew about you better than anyone else.

Tommy knew that you liked tea.

Siblings, and people in general, seem to have this habitual kind of indicator of their mood. Some people bounced their leg when they were nervous, others liked to twiddle their thumbs or pop joints; It’s different for everyone.

But he could always tell how [y/n] felt by the tea they were drinking.

When they were nervous, they made tea brewed from lavender buds collected from a flower field they often visited with Technoblade or Phil. They brought Tommy once. He had run around the whole area with infinite energy before the blond climbed the tree. He had climbed higher and higher until he could feel the warmth of the setting sun shine on his face. The branch broke, but when he plummeted, he wasn’t scared. They were at the bottom, waiting to catch him. They were always waiting to inevitably catch him no matter if it was from his own stupid decisions or from someone else’s. They got nervous a lot, but when he was by their side, he could never be.

When [y/n] was stressed, they made tea out of the peppermint leaves in their garden. The scent filled their house while it brewed and the act of harvesting the herb was “soothing”. Tommy wasn’t sure how weeding was supposed to be relaxing, but he happily did it when their newest sibling figure asked him to. He remembered pulling out a whole mint plant the first time he had worked beside them, unknowing that that was the plant he was supposed to be protecting. They had laughed, gently scolding him, before setting it aside. Even if they were stressed out, they never took it out on him.

When he was sad or upset, they made chamomile tea with honey. Chamomile is a calming flower, he remembered them saying once. And the honey helped you remember that golden days were ahead. They made it for him every morning after he would wake up in the bed he seemed to sleep in more than his own. Sometimes the honey came from Technoblade, sometimes they had retrieved it themselves from wild hives, but they always seemed to get the best stuff. Even when he cried or started to -what was the word they had used? Disassociate? That sounded correct-, he could expect the mug to be pushed into his hands, a sugary but not cloying aroma wafting off it. He always felt much better when he left. He could never remember seeing them drink the tea, despite having such an abundance of it. Did they even get sad? He had never witnessed it.

When they were happy, they made black tea of various kinds and drank sweet iced tea that reminded him of what diabetes would taste like if it were liquid. They drank this with him almost daily. It was always a new blend they wanted to try and perfect or one they wanted him to taste. He loved smelling this tea the most. When its fragrance filled the air, somehow, everything felt right in the world. He couldn’t recall a single time when he didn’t see them on the porch, drinking the amber liquid out of a glass when they knew he’d be coming over for dinner.

It was the days when you didn’t drink tea at all, he was afraid.

Tommy knew that no matter what someone did to them, [y/n] wasn’t afraid to make enemies or insert themselves between their friends and any sort of danger to protect them.

Dream was surprised to see [y/n] at the meeting between the Greater Dream SMP and L’Manburg. It was only supposed to be him and George convening with Tubbo and Tommy. They held no real power in the country. They didn’t belong in this meeting, just like they didn’t belong in this timeline.

He watched the way they, during George and Tubbo’s discussion, rested a hand on Tommy’s arm when his hands clenched hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He saw how they would murmur quietly to him and the child would relax ever so slightly. He noticed the nods they gave the blond when he looked to the adult for confirmation after he made a questionable statement. He observed your true role here.

“Nice to see you replace Wilbur so quickly, Tommy. That’s good. He was a horrible role model for you.” His lips curled behind his mask at the shocked expression on everyone else’s face aside from the vice president before him. His eyes were sharp, angry. “Maybe without his influence, you’ll actually be a competent leader for something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Considering L’Manburg was supposed to be totally destroyed and returned back to the Greater Dream SMP, I’m glad you found someone a bit less self-destructive to help keep you under control. We all know Wilbur did a horrible job at it.” Watching the child soldier stand quickly gave him a certain satisfaction.

“Fuck you, bitch! I don’t need to be told what to do.” Dream watched [y/n] give Tommy a warning look and the way he ignored it.

“And yet you followed someone who lost his own presidential race and blew up his own country before seeking out validation from someone else.”

“I don’t-”

“Tommy.” He watched the blond flinch at the edge to your voice and look down at you.

“He’s saying I-”

“I’m aware. He’s just trying to rile you up. It’s what he does. Ignore him.” The glare they sent him made a sharp jolt go down his spine, but he couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled from his covered mouth.

“Listen to your sibling, Tomathy. At least this one is sane. And if they kill themself, they’ll come back.” Tommy opened his mouth once more to say something before it snapped closed and he released a breath through his nose.

“I don’t need this.” The slam of the door echoed through the now quiet room.

Dream’s attention was immediately back on [y/n]. He watched them square their shoulders and lower their head to look him dead-on. Their glare met him with a hidden fury threatening to break forth and raise the hell that seemed to be just as deeply rooted in them as it was the company they kept. Their lips were pursed in a way that made his own grin grow larger. "Wilbur may not have been the best man. He may have hurt me and put the rest of L’Manburg in this situation. But that is our business alone, and you have no right to say anything bad about him or about Tommy, for that matter."

There was a pregnant pause and he heard George start laughing awkwardly to dispel the tension before being hushed hurriedly by Tubbo.

“And what is it you’ll do to me if I do?” Dream kept his voice level.

“You know why I’m here and who’s behind me. You can use your imagination..” They stood, chair scraping against the floor loudly. “I’m going to check on Tommy.” “But we’re not done!” They stopped at the door, hand resting on the handle.

“I’m sure you can handle the rest by yourself, Tubbo. You know what to do.” They looked at him over their shoulder, before glancing over George and then settling on the man in green. “Don’t you ever speak his name ever again. Or we just might have to build that prison you mentioned. Am I understood?” Sullen nods came from the monarch and the president as they stormed out.

“Well, that was something.”

Tommy had been sitting in the hallway, curled in on himself the same way he had been after the Pit incident.

“Toms?”

“Why is he even here?”

You sat next to him, back resting against the wall.

“Because he cares about George. Kinda like why I was in there for you.” You felt the taller lean against you and relax when you wrapped your arm around him. “I’ll always be here for you, Kiddo.”

You felt him nod and you pressed a kiss to his hair.

“You know I’m not trying to replace Wilbur, right?”

“Of course not. We were like brothers.” His lips quirked a little when he heard your laugh.

“If he were here, I’m sure he’d tell you not to say that or he’d cry.”

“Good. Fucking bitch.”

He didn’t know what he’d do if you never came back.

Tommy knew that the only other person who loved you as much as he did was Technoblade.

Techno had never felt jealous of Tommy before. Or really anyone. He was pretty secure in his position as your best friend, and the vast amounts of platonic affection you showered him with kept him content. Even during the Pogtopia rebellion, watching the looks and touches Wilbur gave you or seeing the child sneak into your bed for another night in a row didn’t make him jealous. So why did he suddenly have the very real impulse to shove the blond off the side off a cliff just to retake some of your attention?

The hybrid watched you talk with your hands as you recounted the night before and your surprise at finding Tommy already there when you came home from Phil’s. He was happy he had been right. You and Philza were similar in many ways and got along well. You would constantly joke with Techno that you were trying to get yourself adopted by the older blond and he would just respond with an amused “don’t tempt him, he might.”. You would always laugh in response.

That was always the best sound.

He listened to your words as he topped off the teacup in front of you with more of the red-tinted liquid. The warm scent of earl grey and roses wafted off of the cup tinged with the subtle tang of the orange peel he had added on a whim. You were right in your suggestion. Citrus always makes deeper teas better.

“If it’s really that bad, the offer to move in still stands. I have more than enough room and you can escape that raccoon.” He snickered at the pout that rested on your lips.

“I never said that I didn’t like it! And don’t call Tommy a raccoon.” He sipped his own tea.

“It’s true. Gets into trash, beady little eyes, a nuisance. He even breaks into your house.”

“He has a key, Tech. It’s different.” You had rolled your eyes at him, but the smile on your face spoke of your fondness for them both. He felt the small well of jealousy in his chest flare. Did Tommy know how privileged he was? He hoped the child knew.

“I’m just sayin’. Whenever you want to leave that place, my door will always be open for you.” He watched your smile soften and the firm squeeze when you reached across the table for his forearm.

“I appreciate it, but Tommy needs me still. Maybe one day, okay?” He grunted at you and you giggled. “Who knows, maybe Phil will come with! He could build his own little cabin and everything.”

“I’ve already extended the offer to him as well. He said he’ll think about it.” You shook your head.

“He’s probably trying to figure out how close to the meadow he’d be in comparison.”

“Man loves the flowers, what can he say?”

“Sure, it’s definitely the flowers.” You sipped your tea with a knowing grin.

“What else would it be?” He watched the glint in your eyes, seeing exactly what Tommy had always said about you. They had seemed a lot deeper lately, more knowledgeable. The child had always claimed that you spoke like you knew more than you let on and he saw it in your smile sometimes, but the look you were giving him right at that moment confirmed it.

“Maybe it’s all the memories.”

He couldn't imagine you not returning the feelings they both held for you, despite the vast difference.

Tommy knew that you wouldn’t hide anything from him unless it was absolutely imperative.

He found you sitting in the living room, curled into an old recliner that you would never tell him where it came from. You felt Tommy haphazardly throw his arms around your shoulders from behind, releasing a small sigh of contentment as he pressed his face further into your neck.

"Hey, Kiddo, what’re you up to?" His grip on you slackened, and you could almost feel his face draw up to a small pout. He absolutely hated that nickname but couldn’t deny the small warmth that flared in his stomach whenever you called him it.

"[Y/n], how many times have I asked you to stop calling me that?" He removed himself from you when you shrugged your shoulders.

"Sorry, Toms, the nickname stays. You're too much of a brat for it to leave." He groaned, eyebrows drawing together. You knew he wasn’t entirely mad at the name. He wouldn’t have whined the way he did if he truly wanted you to stop. You and Tommy seemed to share a wavelength. It wasn’t the same one you shared with Techno, but it was just as perfect. You wished you could tell him why it was.

The realization set a rock that started in your throat and slowly started to sink to your stomach. It spread through you, causing a wet hot sensation to form behind your eyes. You’d never be able to tell your little brother your deepest secret. What if he hated you? What if he told everyone else and they cast you out? What if he felt he couldn’t trust you anymore?

Carefully pulling yourself out of your own thoughts, you looked up at the child. “I’m sorry, what was it you wanted?”

"Can I talk to you?" Your eyes flicked to the book you were reading before back to him. You knew what he wanted. A bookmark was wedged between pages and the room was silent before you stood. "Sure, kiddo. Is it going to be a long chat?" You set off to the kitchen, soon pouring some water into an old kettle that Phil had given you the day that you had awoken. You had been “gone” for over a full day. Aside from Phil, no one else knew what had happened and where you went.

An opaque jar was pulled from the cupboard, carefully opened, and he watched as purple buds, green leaves, and yellow-white flowers were deposited gently onto the mesh cloth that you would tie into a sachet. He had never seen them combine those teas. He didn’t even realize you had such a large jar of it stored.

“What happened at Phil’s?” You hesitated before steadying your hand and pouring the steaming water into a teapot before setting the sachet in. It floated for a moment before you used the string to dunk the bag a few times to soak it before it sank midway.

You only pulled one mug down.

You gestured for him to sit at the table and he took it. You could see the way his anxiety rose even higher when you didn’t sit across from him.

“What day? I’ve been at Phil’s a lot lately.”

“Oh fuck off. You know what day I’m talking about.” You shrugged, trying to keep your expression even.

“I really don’t, Tommy. You’re going to have to narrow it down for me.” Your fight or flight instincts were dialed to high when he gave you a knowing look.

“You don’t have to lie to me, [y/n]. I’m not a child.”

“Yes, you are, and I’m not lying.” You flinched when he slammed his hands on the table, chair screeching as it was slid back with too much force before it fell backwards.

“Then why have you changed?” You froze. “You used to love spending time with me before-”

You wanted to reach out, to comfort him, when you saw his lips quiver, but he turned his head away from you. He couldn’t look you in the eye.

“Before you were gone for almost two days and came back wrong. You don’t talk like how you used to either. It’s like you know things, but like, more than you used to. And come to find out from Ranboob, you had gone to Philza’s house. What did he tell you?”

You just shook your head, wanting to tell him you remembered him. You remembered every timeline he was in. Every moment he had fought for what he believed in and won. Every time he had died. Every timeline he could have died.

“Did I do something? Is it because of Ghostbur? Do you-” He looked back up at you, looking exactly like the sixteen year old he was supposed to be. “Do you hate me?”

“Of course not, Tommy. Why in the world would you ever think that?”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Siblings don’t keep secrets.”

“They do when they’re trying to protect the ones they love, Tommy.” You watched his face grow red in frustration.

“You’re not always gonna be there for me, [y/n]!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Why won’t you just tell me?” His voice broke, and so did your heart.

“Because you’re still just a kid, Tommy. And I think sometimes you forget that. And everyone else too. And I can’t tell anyone what happened.”

“But why? I stopped being a child when we won our first war. I should be able to hear about this!”

“Because the things I saw, the things I heard, no one else should have to bear this weight.” You swallowed back your tears. This was no time to cry. “You can be mad at me all you want, Tommy. But I’m still the same [y/n] who tucks you into bed and links pinkies with you on the Prime Path and who will always be there for you.”

The hurt look he gave you would haunt you for the rest of your lifetimes.

“Then why won’t you let me be there for you?” You could only shake your head.

“Because that’s not how it works, Kiddo.” Tommy’s eyes hardened and he sucked in a quivering breath.

“Fine.” He started walking back towards the door.

“Toms, where are you going?” He didn’t answer you.

His tea was bitter and cold by now, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but feel the same.

Tommy knew all those things about you. So why did it feel like maybe he didn’t know you at all?

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Day and Night

I only have 5 more planned parts before the "main story" is completed.

Warnings: Mention of Death ; Unconsciousness ; Unrequited[?] Love

Words: 3.5k

Sometimes, it was amazing to you how lucky you had been.

You remembered how warm the air had been when you had found the flower field. The breeze drug the long grass into graceful waves and the different wildflowers swayed gently. Trees framed the field except for the large weeping cherry tree that sat upon a small hill. No other flowers grew on the hill, but you hadn’t thought anything of it. It was so quiet there, so serene. The air tasted sweet. It was like a scene from a storybook.

You had immediately hunted down Techno and took him away from his farming to see the spot. Back then, you hadn’t known each other for long, but you had felt so close to him already. It was like you had already known each other for all of the lifetimes he had talked about.

“Isn’t it gorgeous, Tech?” He grunted out a quiet “yeah” and you grinned up at him. Back then, during the war, he always wore his mask. The pig skull strapped tightly to his face hid his features, including his eyes, but you didn’t care. His voice usually had enough inflection for you to know his expression. You giggled as you sprinted forward, towards the giant tree in the middle. “Follow me! I wanna watch the clouds.”

He had relented. Your smile could have rivaled the beauty of the field in that moment, and he felt himself falling for you even deeper. He’d never tell you, though. Despite how often you could respawn, he wouldn’t let himself be with someone he could lose. And he very much could lose you. You could just not come back one of these times, you could hate him for the things he’s done, you could see how Wilbur looked at you and turn that damning smile onto him. He wouldn’t prevent you from being happy.

You sat with your back against the bark of the large tree, some of the light petals shaking loose and drifting slowly down around you. He would remember this moment forever.

He had laid next to you, his hair a brighter pink than the flowers above the two of you and spread in a halo around his head.

“What’s gonna happen when this is all over?” He thought it over, watching the clouds mimic the flowers in their sluggishness.

“We move on.” You nodded, stomach flipping at the way he said “we” and not “I”. That had to have been progress in your friendship, no?

You sat there quietly, contemplative, while he took in the coolness of the shade compared to how hot the area in the trees seemed to be. This was a spot Phil would have loved had he been around. He could imagine a small cottage nearby and the overgrown field turned into a garden. The voices agreed with this thought. There would be cakes and bonfires on summer nights. He’d bring you with him to visit. Would you like Phil? You two were similar in a lot of ways. Even in past lives, Phil had a fatherly streak for himself, Tommy and Wilbur. Sometimes Tubbo and Ranboo were included in that equation. When would the teen show up? This couldn’t have been a timeline without him. Everyone else was here and the hybrid knew you’d love the kid just like you did the other two. He hadn’t interacted with him much in other lives, but the kid was nice enough. Maybe you’d-

"I can braid your hair for you, if you want."

Your voice had broken through the voices that had idly whispered in his ears. He considered it for a moment, chat now becoming louder.

YES!!

Please don’t let them.

What kind of braid do they want to do?

Are they going to play with it too?

Don’t turn your back on them.

The mask would have to come off.

E.

Why are they so nice to us?

E.

Do it.

What if they did a french braid? That’d look nice.

Their hands look soft.

What if they pull our hair?

Let them do it. They’ll be so proud of themselves.

Technoblade sighed and moved his head to your lap. “I’m not moving any more. You can do what you wish. I’m gonna nap.”

Your smile was electric and he pressed his lips together to fight the urge to groan at the sight. He almost lost that fight when your fingers carded through his hair.

“Can I take off your mask?”

“No.” His answer was immediate. “Work around it.”

You pressed your lips together. “Can I unbuckle it, at least? I don’t want to pull.”

“Do what you want.” He closed his eyes, feeling you mess with the strap before carefully laying it over the side of the skull, careful to not dislodge it. The extra effort you took to make him comfortable made his heart flutter in his chest a bit more than it should have. Did you do this with anyone else in their tiny rebellion? He had noticed Tommy had been walking around with a small braid framing his face lately and he had seen Wilbur with one pinned back in his hair when he removed his beanie a while back. Were they your doing? It was his turn, then.

He craved your touch more than he should have. It was much softer than his own and the contrast wasn’t something he experienced often. He enjoyed the fleeting touches you experimented with on him as you tested his boundaries. The random hugs you gave him when you were happy and forgot yourself for a moment. The times when you’d unconsciously touch his arm while you two talked. The friendly bumps when you two walked. He was happy to be your friend.

“Have you ever thought about how much worse our lives would be without each other?”

He took a moment to think the question over.

“Well, I figure mine would have been about the same. I’ve spent plenty of them without you before, so it’d have just been another to add on.” Your hands paused in his hair and the hybrid opened an eye to watch your lips tilted into a frown. He had never liked that expression on you.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“I think having you in mine now is pretty nice.” The sentence left his lips before he could stop it. It was too sentimental for him. He wasn’t one to speak before thinking, but the way you lit up at his outburst made him happy he had too.

“I think having you in mine is pretty nice too, Tech.” Your nails ran lightly over his temple as you pulled hair back into the mess you were currently trying to tame it into.

“I’m not a dog, [y/n].”

“I never said you were.”

“Then stop scratchin’ me like one.” You laughed and he huffed proudly at the sound. “I do like spendin’ time with you, though.”

He heard you hum quietly, feeling the way his hair tugged as your fingers worked.

“You make everything quiet. Sometimes, I can see the past so clearly in my mind… it almost feels like it’s real and happenin’ again. But it isn’t. Only now is real. And when I’m with you, even the voices will occasionally take a break.” He watched the way your lips fell to a soft “o” shape. He sighed, feeling like if he didn’t go on, you’d say something contrary to him. He didn’t spill his guts like this. Not literally or metaphorically. But something about you made him want to go on and on. “You have this special power over everyone. It’s amazin’. I didn’t even know what to think when we met. I was ready to move on and never see you again, but you kept persisting. You just trusted this violent stranger who can’t handle social situations, and I’m here tryin’ to figure out what I’m supposed to do when I can’t even trust my own mind.”

Your laughter felt like you punched him in the gut and he turned his head to look up at you. Your smile didn’t look mocking, and when your amusement faded, the curve of your lips remained untaunting.

“You just trust me back, Tech. I don’t have any special powers aside from not being able to stay dead.” He felt your hand grip his arm and squeeze lightly. “I’m not going anywhere either. You’re right. I’m relentless. You’re not gonna get rid of me unless you tell me you want me gone.”

His heart felt like it was in his throat.

“And honestly?” His breath caught for a moment at the look in your eyes as you gazed down at him. He felt so naked under it, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. “I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met.”

“Bold of you to say, considerin’ I’m wearin’ a mask.” He mumbled, heartbeat suddenly picking up and palpitating as if he were in battle. It felt like you really could see him, all of him, despite the covering. He didn’t feel like he had, or even could, hide anything from you. Every scar, every expression, every thought. You had taken his admittance of the voices in stride, even talked to them directly sometimes. You weren’t afraid to touch him, to be soft with him. If he could spend the rest of this timeline with you, even if this was the only one you were in, he’d feel full.

Your smile wavered when you watched Techno reach up as if to remove his mask.

“What are you doing?”

“Showing you some of the worst parts of me.” He sat up, moving the item to his lap, before looking back at you. Seeing you unfiltered by the mask was a whole new experience. It was like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. His heart began skipping every other beat. What did you think of his face? Tommy, Tubbo and Wilbur had seen it plenty of times, remembered it in other lifetimes when he did have a humanoid face, but this was your first time.

The grin that pulled your lips bigger slightly alleviated his worries, though. And you reached forward, touching his face like you had Tommy’s a hundred times while whispering a quiet “Wow” he didn’t know if he should have been flattered by. He let you trace your fingers over the scar over his nose and brush your thumb over his lower lip before you pulled his mouth open. You examined his slightly-sharper teeth with a fascination he didn’t know felt more clinical or childlike. Your expression turned oddly serious.

“I was wrong.” His veins suddenly felt like ice as you pulled your hand away. “You’re no person, Tech. You’re a god and I am lucky to be in your presence.”

The ice melted just as quickly as it had formed and his cheeks suddenly felt like they were aflame. He had been called that hundreds of times, but the way it rolled off your tongue sounded like reverence. He swallowed and looked away. You were wrong about having no power over him as well. You shouldn’t have been able to play with his emotions as easily as you did. “You’re cruel, [y/n].”

He smirked at the sound of your scoff as you feigned indignation before turning back to you. He watched your eyes widen before you reached for his face once more. He let you.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you smile.”

He prayed you thought his was as brilliant as yours.

Being close to others was a good thing, wasn’t it? Even if you didn’t share any memories with them, you’d still be there for them, no matter what.

Tommy had crawled into your bed once more while you slept. He had done so plenty of times during the revolution until L’Manburg had been won back. Now, he had his own house he could sleep comfortably in. But he had a key to your house. So as long as he locked the front door whenever he snuck in, when the mattress dipped at his weight, you would always peel open an eye before pulling the covers up for him to crawl under. You would never be upset with him about breaking in just to cuddle and eventually fall asleep. You would never mention it after the fact either. He didn’t need to be embarrassed in front of the others and face the taunts from not being able to sleep properly when he was alone. He just needed comfort sometimes. The blond was, after all, still a child just swept up in all of this.

You curled around him, his gangly limbs tucked into his chest awkwardly as you tried to give him the most paternal embrace possible. You didn’t press him for details like you used to, just tucked the golden braid you had weaved into his shaggy hair behind his ear and smile sleepily at him in hopes he would smile back.

He wouldn’t, but you never expected him to.

“Hey Toms?” He hummed in response, looking at the part of the pillow tucked under your throat. “Did I ever tell you the story about how the moon did the sun’s work every night because he loved her so much?”

“No.” His voice cracked, but you ignored it, choosing instead to roll onto your back to look at the stars through your skylight. You felt him do the same.

“Well, when the sun found the moon, it had just been happenstance. He was drinking tea under the large cherry tree in his garden and she was so tired. She had not stopped working. Day was the only thing anyone knew. Her light and warmth were so abundant, she was barely hanging on from the exhaustion it exerted on her. And so she collapsed in his garden, unconscious. He brought her into the shade of his tree and the world darkened. Plants and people died in the absence of light more than they had before. However, when she woke up and when they locked eyes, the world finally felt like it was spinning. He had been so kind to her. How could she not love him? But she kept it from him. She visited everyday and they would share tea and talk for hours. She sat just outside of the tree’s shade despite how tired it made her.”

You watched Tommy turn his head to watch you speak from the corner of your eye.

“Eventually he asked her “Why do you come everyday when you look so tired? Why don’t you rest?”. “Because I cannot. I must cast light onto my children and help them grow.” She replied. “Why do you never leave the shade of your tree?” He laughed at her question. “Because I cannot. The light is too bright and I will disappear.” She took his answer and they moved on.”

The blond listened to the voices you used for each character, slowly closing his eyes.

“One day, when she collapsed again, she was still conscious when the moon stepped out of his shade once more to rescue her. The world lightened once more, but only dimly. He reflected her warmth onto everything. It was a soft light and the people marveled at his beauty. He decided then he would take on half of her work when they had tea because he too loved her, but kept it to himself. And from then on, whenever she would visit for tea, he would sit outside of the comfort of his cherry tree, and she would perch herself under it and let him show his brightness to the world. And they were happy.”

You looked back at him, trying to not giggle at how sleepy he looked.

“Tha’s a lame story.” He quietly slurred and you shrugged your shoulders a little, rolling back over to face him fully.

“I think Phil would disagree.”

“Phil?”

“Yep. That’s his favorite story.” He pouted a little and your chest warmed at how childlike he looked.

“Then I think…” His voice was becoming softer, trailing off. “I think it’ll be mine too.”

You listened to his breathing soften before evening out completely and you’d fall back asleep.

People trusted you so much and you didn’t know what you did to deserve it.

The pendent was cold in your hands.

A silver heron stared up at you with a lone emerald eye and you prayed it wasn’t made from the same friendship emerald that Technoblade had gifted him with.

“I got that from a friend a long time ago. His child, Love, actually had it for a while when his mother passed, but when his kid suffered the same fate, Psarocolius gave it to me. Said it was bad luck or something.” You snorted and rolled your eyes.

“Wow, Phil. What an amazing gift.” Your sarcasm was palatable. He bopped the top of your head with a gentle chop of his hand.

“Shut. It’s a way to reach out to Kristin.” You had been complaining to him about how left out you felt whenever everyone else was talking about their previous lives, hoping the older man would have some good advice for you. “That’s why Psar’s wife and kid died. There was no other way.”

“So your wife just killed them off? How cold.” He shook his head.

“Nah, mate. They asked her to. She still feels awful about it.” You paused for a moment.

“But isn’t that technically your job now?” You watched the way his lips curled into a smile.

“I do it so I can see her more often. It gets tiring doing everything, you know.” You definitely knew. “But talk to her about it. See what the deal is.”

You snickered at the thought.

“It can’t be that easy.”

“It is.”

Now, in the heat of her presence, the pendent was even colder.

“Hey, [y/n]. I was wondering when you were going to come around.” You swallowed, a little overwhelmed.

“You were expecting me?”

“Well, not exactly. But you were probably going to want to talk to me eventually.” She arched a manicured eyebrow at you. Was every god this beautiful? “Now, why did-”

“Why don’t I have any past lives?” You watched how her eyes widened for a moment, stunned, before her pink lips parted as she laughed. It was warm, motherly enough to match Philza’s naturally fatherly one, and so lovely to listen to. She rested a hand on your cheek when it slowly quieted and you were faced with looking into her eyes that looked like they held every answer in the universe. You felt a little dumb for asking it straight out and floundered to recover. To explain yourself. “I don’t have any to remember. I want to have them, to share memories with everyone else.”

There was a slow build at the front of your brain.

“Well, who’s to say you don’t?”

The pressure continued growing. Your head ached in the worst way possible.

“Minds are weird. Sometimes you just shove things down and make yourself forget.”

You suddenly thought of a servant who tended to a woman you didn’t know. Images of things that had happened or might have flickered through your mind. Possibilities playing in loops. You remembered watching heroes save the city and the zombie apocalypse starting countless times. Your skull felt like it was splitting.

“All you need is a nudge in the right direction, and memories will just come back.”

There was laughter with Drista and Kristin herself. Stories on a computer screen. Childish fights echoing over a Discord call while you watched on in silence. First love, second love, third. Faces that weren’t yours smiling wide back at you. Mellohi playing softly in the background as hands you had seen countless times before cooked dinner.

“It hurts so much. Why does it hurt so much? I just want it to stop.” Kristin pet your hair with her other hand. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes and she shushed you.

You saw different versions of Techno’s sweet smiles. You felt the varied intensities of Wilbur’s stares, warm and cold. You savoured the several kinds of laughs Tommy shared with everyone around him. Would you ever experience any of them again? You would. You had to. Techno was your best friend, Tommy your little brother, Ghostbur your companion. You could not abandon them when you promised to always come back.

Your vision blurred black around the edges as stars danced across your eyes. You suddenly felt so very weak.

The goddess of life and death’s voice was muffled in your ears as your hearing slowly faded. The heron necklace slipped from your grip, but the sound of it hitting the ground didn’t reach you. Neither did the crash of your fall. Her words echoed around you as you lost consciousness.

“You’ll be okay.”

It was only a matter of time before you found out why.

[fleursdemeduse]

wait ok so i just found the remembrance AU, i would like it to become a series if possible

but if i'm correct, are we from our current world? is that ehy no kne remembers us? or are we really a god?

very excited to see what happens!!

I've been holding off on answering this until I actually knew, but it's been so long I started to feel bad. I'm so sorry for the delay.

The correct answer is I'm not entirely sure.

There's been some hints here and there of different possibilities, and the next part will give a half-answer, but this "fic" [which is not what it was going to be in the first place, I was actually going to make this a purely platonic headcannon/one-shot series, but obviously that's not what the writing gods have decided] is definitely demanding some world building stuff for the actual timeline before I can finish off the "main story" and do what was originally planned.

I'm not sure which part will have a real answer to the question, or if it's going to remain mostly ambiguous [in which case, both of your guesses and another option will present itself]. What I do know, however, is that Reader does, in fact, have a backstory beyond just waking up next to the river.

Again, I'm sorry for the delay and the not-really-an-answer. If anyone has any ideas, requests or suggestions, feel free to send me an ask or a dm! I have some things planned, but I love extra input.

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Everything Is Blue

I've been trying to post these every 30 notes, but that happened within hours on the last post, so I'm sorry for not being done with this sooner and for how rushed it feels.

Warnings: Arguing ; Mention of Death ; Mention of bombs ; Unrequited[?] Love ; Memory Loss ; Slight Stalking ; Angst

Words: 3.7k

You hadn’t spoken to him since that incident after the festival. You knew your harsh words you had all but screamed at him had driven a stake between the two of you. It hurt so much more to think about now. You had berated the brunet when you saw him. He had messed up and you needed to let him know just how much. But when all that had left his lips in response had been a sullen “I’m sorry.”, your anger at him just increased.

“For what? I want to hear you say it.” He didn’t have a right to suddenly look so morose when just minutes earlier, you had found him cackling to himself over plans. Your form had loomed in the doorway of where he kept the wooden desk. You didn’t dare step foot into the room where such a stranger waited. His smile hadn’t been the same one you had known all this time and you actually flinched at the sight of it. You felt like prey. And now, after he had chased after you when you had turned to storm off, he thought he was allowed to look like he had been caught doing something he knew he shouldn’t have been? He had already told you the worst, even if he hadn’t done it.

“Everything.” The answer had caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected him to be so earnest in his apology. At your lack of a response, he had just shook his head, rubbing his eyes. “I have so much work to do.”

He turned to walk back to his small “office” and you reached out for him. “Wilbur, please-”

“Don’t follow me.” His voice was firm. That had been the first, and only, time he had used such a tone with you, but this had also been the first, and only, time you had yelled at him. You tried to hold back the sound that escaped your lips. You wanted to chase him anyways, but you had a discussion with Technoblade that needed to happen.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk to him afterwards. You wanted to mend the great divide that seemed to loom between you two. But he didn’t seem to. He never spoke to you after that. Communication always came from another member; Techno or Tommy, more often than not. And now? Now you would never be able to fix things.

You still remembered the look in Technoblade and Tommy’s eyes when you told them you were on both of their sides. Techno had never once lied to Tommy or Wilbur about never wanting to re-establish L’Manburg, but putting Tubbo in the position of president had been done so fairly democratically. If anyone had had a problem with him inheriting the position, they could have voiced it. Instead everyone had cheered. You couldn’t fight for either side you loved so much when they were both right. Not after watching the third person you held closest to you get slain by the man who was supposed to be his father. You couldn’t lose either of them too.

Techno was a comfortable constant in your world. He was warm, funny, and the friendship between you two only seemed to grow with each passing day. You could ask him for anything in the entire world, and he’d give it to you with very little questions asked. So you helped him leave after Tommy and Tubbo set to rebuild L’Manburg. He was ready to change, he had said so himself. So much violence and carnage had left his hands permanently stained with blood. The voices didn’t help at all. You knew that. If you hadn’t have felt the need to help Tommy and Tubbo with the next phase of their life, you were sure you would have stayed in the arctic with him, away from everything that had happened. He had been more than happy to share the cabin he wanted to build with you. There would be a farm, he said, and animals. Your company was so nice, he wouldn’t mind sharing it every day. But despite how wonderful that offer sounded, you could only remind him that Tommy and Tubbo were still children and required more guidance than he did. He didn’t look happy about it, but let you go anyway with the promise that you’d come visit often.

As if anything could keep you away from your best friend.

When you returned, Tommy had sent you back to Pogtopia to collect the loose odds and ends that had been left there. It wasn’t much, just things that he had thought would help. But he couldn’t leave the process to run the errand. You were more than happy to do it for him. You knew he wouldn’t want the reminder of Wilbur, his mentor and brother in almost every sense of the word, being gone so soon.

When you had descended down the familiar walkways, you marveled at all of the buttons still left there. It felt more like a museum exhibit now than the place where the rebellion had bloomed. Aside from what you pilfered, everything had been, and would remain, untouched. Lingering in each of the “rooms”, memories about all that had happened in such a short amount of time started to haunt the quiet base.

There was a small chest in the corner of your alcove, however. One that hadn’t been there when you had left the night before the final stand for reconnaissance. You had been supposed to report back what you had found, but you had chosen to send Wilbur a message over the comms instead and visit the old library you had once called home rather than return and deliver it orally. Your leader wouldn’t have noticed either way. You were still back in time, so it didn’t matter, even if he had.

You knelt beside the wooden chest, opening it carefully. A sword sat inside, wrapped in a faded and torn brown trench coat. You ran your fingers over the material gently. The one Wilbur had been in during his death was a darker brown and wasn’t as worn. Why he had left it here, in a chest in your room, wrapped around some stupid sword? You pulled out the bundle, carefully unraveling the blade so as to not tear the fabric that held so many memories. lore was inscribed on the handle and you watched the blade shine with purple enchantments. Why in the world was this here? Your lips trembled as you remembered hearing Phil’s murmured recount of what had happened in the button room.

Had Phil not been there, would he have asked you to slay him with the very sword you held?

You dropped the weapon, hands clutching at the fraying fabric of the trench coat now in your lap. You hugged it to your chest, wishing its owner were here instead. It smelled vaguely of dirt and ink and the smallest amount of sap. There was no trace of the gunpowder you remembered perfuming his skin last time you had seen him in it. Was this how he wanted you to remember him? A former president who smelled of the dirt and sap from the country he loved and not the TNT he’d destroyed it with? A poet who spilled ink on himself rather than betrayed his friends? An elder brother who left quiet gifts for his friends and loved ones even if he didn’t know if he’d be able to see them accept it?

Tears stained the fabric as they fell off your chin like the rain that hadn’t seemed to come. Not even the heavens would mourn your friend who had fallen victim to the corruption he had sought to eradicate.

For the first time in a very long time, you felt completely isolated and alone.

L’Manburg rebuilt itself steadily. Phil had been a great asset to everything, and with the efforts of everyone, the place was just as thriving as before. You had made more friends beyond those who had helped in the rebellion. Your relationship with Tubbo growing more and more as time went on. He was a bright spot whenever Tommy or Techno were busy or otherwise couldn’t see you. You may have been close during the time of Pogtopia, but now it felt like you had adopted another little brother. It felt like you had taken the place Wilbur had left.

Tubbo would come over for tea sometimes, advice others, but more often than not, he came with new conversation points and stories about his week. He had been holding out on you. He might have come across as smart before, but the child was a downright mad scientist when he was broken out of his shell. You were glad he had been chosen as the president, even if it kept him so busy. You just hoped the power wouldn’t corrupt him the same as the two that came before him.

A small smile crossed your lips when you saw the boy across the river separating the two of you. You didn’t know he would be out and about today. You had just finished visiting Tommy, in fact. You would have invited him along. You raised your hand to wave but paused. There, peeking out from behind him, was the faded visage of a familiar beanie. Nausea settled in your stomach. Everything suddenly too hot and too cold. That couldn’t have been him.

Cold and empty black eyes turned their attention on you and you were suddenly reminded of a sword wrapped delicately in a warm trench coat tucked safely in your ender chest. You fled before Tubbo could see you too.

You avoided the spirit for weeks. Niki told you of how kind the apparition was when you bought pastries from her. Tommy mumbled about how forgetful the man was whenever you two had your weekly dinner. Techno described to you the odd personality the ghost had taken on whenever around. But you still refused to see him.

He, however, wanted to see you.

He was determined. After you had run from him so many times when he had tried approaching you both directly and indirectly, he sought for alternative methods to see you. The former president found that invisibility potions were the easiest way. He could follow you through the streets discreetly, see the expressions on your face when you talked with your other friends, stare into your eyes when you daydreamed at the docks and imagine you were looking into his once more. If he tried really hard, he could imagine that it was all directed at him.

Ghostbur missed you and he couldn’t remember why you refused to speak to him. You two had been so close. Did Alivebur do something bad to you to make you not want to even look in his direction? You wouldn’t even let him ask.

The rain had finally come around once you had stopped actively mourning. It was ironic, really. You predicted that the storm would be around for at least a few hours. Which was good. Crops needed watering and the air had started to take on a dryness that made your throat parched even with vast amounts of water.

You hadn’t predicted he’d come around with the storm.

Raindrops fell in torrents against the wooden pathways and dirt outside. It was a calming sound. You almost wished for some soft guitar to play an accompaniment to the natural percussion. The thought brought a sour taste to your mouth. Tommy had the instrument now, but the thing was old. Strings were rusted from many nights in the rain without being properly dried and the bridge had shifted from so much neglect. You wondered if the ghost could still play. You’d never find out, but you still crushed the curiosity the moment it had crossed your mind.

A loud knock echoed through your home, disrupting the incomplete symphony and you removed yourself from the warm couch you had been curled upon. You opened the door a little, trying to not flood your home with the storm that unleashed it’s wrath outside. A yellow sweater and red beanie came into view, but they sizzled in the downpour and looked almost like they were melting. Tubbo had told you of his weakness to water, why was he out in this weather? Why was he at your door?

“It’s pouring rain, what are you doing here?” You hadn’t meant for your tone to be as icy as it was.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You took a small breath, closing your eyes as you tried to talk yourself out of allowing him inside. The small hiss of rain hitting his jumper filled your ears and you released the breath in a sigh as you failed to convince yourself. The door swung open wider and you stood to the side. After a moment, you looked at him again.

“Get in here before I leave you out there.” You watched the ghost scramble to rush out of the rain, and you watched him silently for a moment before closing the door behind him. Brushing past the ghost, you walked to your kitchen. You hoped some tea would soothe your nerves and the ghost would be quiet. Phil had given you a small bag of chamomile herbal tea that had lavender buds in it. He said it was to help with sleep and reduce stress and you couldn’t help but think he had gifted it to you for this exact moment.

You waited for the water to heat on the furnace. Once the bubbles slowly grew and rose to the surface, you pulled the pot off and turned before startling. Wilbur had been right behind you, watching the water as well. You recognized the feeling of hot pain quickly grow on your chest and you gasped, setting down the pot on the counter as you moved to pull your shirt away from the scarred flesh to prevent further scalding. Wilbur had yelped as well, some of the water having sloshed onto him. You looked up to him, eyes wide when you saw his arm start to melt.

“Sorry, are you-” The words died on your tongue when his eyes met yours however. The feeling of crying immediately replaced your concern. You missed his brown eyes. The ones that looked into yours so attentively when you were talking. The ones that flashed with his emotions, even when they were kept off of his face. The ones that looked like melted honey in the sunlight and rich chocolate in the torchlight. You hadn’t realized your vision had become blurry with unshed tears until you watched the grey blob of his hand put something into your own.

“Have some blue. It’ll be okay.” You stared at the mass in your hand, the small blue pile growing darker and darker. You looked up at the ghost, confused. “It’s blue!”

“Yeah, Wilbur. It is.”

“No, no it’s called blue. It starts out translucent and then slowly turns blue as it absorbs your sadness!” You scoffed, setting it on the counter next to the pot.

“Obviously it doesn’t work.”

“It does! You’re not gonna cry anymore, are you?” You turned to look at him again, freezing when you saw his smile. That stupid smile that shouldn’t have been so wide on his ashen face. You shook your head, turning back to put the water into your mug. It had cooled a little, but that was alright. It would brew okay still.

“Why are you here, Wilbur?”

“I told you, I didn’t know where else to go.” You slammed the pot onto the counter with a little more force than was probably necessary.

“But why me? You finally want to talk to me now? After everything you’ve done?” You spun on your heel to glare at the ghost that floated in your kitchen. The water on your shirt was cold now and sticking to you, but your face felt so hot. His smile dropped from his face and he looked stricken.

“I did something to you?” You bit your lip, feeling your throat tighten. How could he not remember?

“You ignored me for so long, Wilbur! I tried so hard to make things up to you after our fight, and what do I get? A stupid sword and a coat with too many memories attached. Like that would ever make up for anything! You know what?” You reached into the ender chest that sat in on the counter, throwing the bundle at him. “Why don’t you have it back, then? Load of good it does me!” You sniffled, feeling tears prick your eyes. You laughed a little, wiping at them with the back of your hands. “I feel so stupid. I missed you so much and yet you’re right here in front of me. So why doesn’t it feel like you’re you? Why doesn’t any of this make me feel better?”

The feeling of something cold touched your cheek. It was like cool morning mist before the dew and it felt nice against your flushed skin. You felt your lips tremble when you realized the ghost was holding your cheek just like he had the night before the festival. They didn’t smell like anything this time.

“Because I’m not Alivebur. I’m Ghostbur. We’re different.” You heard the sound of your tears fall against his hand before you felt them, but he didn’t pull his hand away. “I don’t remember what happened between us before he died, but I do remember you were very important to him, [y/n]. You’re very important to me.”

“You don’t remember anything?” You sniffled, starting to move away from his touch. His hand dropped back to his side.

“I remember a lot of things, but I don’t remember why you’re mad at me.” A half-laugh tumbled from your lips, but it sounded more like air than anything.

“I wasn’t truly mad at you until you blew up everything and died, Wilbur,” You paused. “-Ghostbur. What do you actually remember, then?”

You didn’t miss how the correction made a smile bloom once more on his lips.

"I remember saying I'd die for you multiple times." A snort escaped you and you shook your head, pressing a hand to your mouth and looking away from the apparition before you.

"I didn't think you meant literally. That was always my job, wasn’t it?” You felt him pull away your hand gently and hold it. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, but you didn’t like it. His touch lacked the soft tangibility it once had and it was just another painful reminder.

“Let’s go sit on the couch. I want to talk to you again. I want to catch up.”

You nodded, your tears starting to dry a little.

He guided you to your living room, perching himself on the sofa before waiting for you to sit as well. The air felt tense as he pulled you into a conversation. After a while, the wind and rain slowed and were a quiet hum compared to the easy laughter and sweet smiles you two shared. You avoided the heavy topics. The ones that would make this kind dream dissolve back into the harsh reality that awaited you later when you couldn’t pretend like nothing had happened. Once the lull on his side of the conversation lasted too long, however, you turned to look at him. You were met with a warm gaze that held the spark of something you didn’t even know could present itself in the dead eyes of your once dear friend.

“[Y/n]?” You hummed in response. “I’m so glad I came here. You make me feel alive. For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe. It feels like everything was so devoid of colour, I didn’t know what it meant until now.”

You laughed a little. “That’s not my doing, ‘bur.”

Ghostbur stood and moved to look out your window, watching the sun slowly set. You hadn’t realized the storm had stopped until you saw the golden light wash him in a warm glow that made him a vision to behold.

“[y/n]?” You hummed again, reaching to finish your tea that had been remade over the hours. “Why didn’t you love me?”

Your heart stalled in your chest. You turned your head and watched the ghost slowly turn to you and you furrowed your eyebrows. What was he talking about? “Please don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you didn’t know.” Your mouth was dry, but you set the mug back down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ghostbur. We were friends. Of course I loved you.” He shook his head.

“Not in the way that I wanted. I-” You watched him fish some blue out of his pocket and play with it. “I really loved you, [y/n]. I wanted you to be by my side through everything. But when you seemed to continuously choose Technoblade, I felt like I couldn’t say anything. Now, you’re hurt by what Alivebur did. I know other people haven’t truly forgiven me for what he did. I haven’t either. And I don’t like hearing about it, but it still hurts.” He looked so sad, the blue in his hands growing darker and darker. “We can’t even be together now because I’m a ghost.”

Suddenly his eyes lit up like he had remembered something. You watched him immediately turn and make his way to the door. Navy blue pieces forgotten on your floor. “That’s it! There’s so much work to do.”

The memory of soft apologies spoken in a ravine echoed in your ears. Your heart picked up speed and you stood, reaching out for him as if to stop him as he pulled open your front door. “Ghostbur, please-”

“Don’t follow me.”

How many times would you have to hear that before the words didn’t hurt anymore?

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Constant Dying

This is not going in the direction that was originally planned, but I'm not sure I'm too upset by it. I'm glad to finally post a part that goes a bit further into Techno's feelings about you this time, though. I'm also starting to work on an angsty Simpbur fic alongside this one, so keep an eye out for that.

Warnings: Mention of death ; Near-death

Words: 3.6k

Your legs throbbed as you trudged through the multiple paths to where you and Techno had been mining. Your neck wasn’t fairing much better. There was always residual pain after a death, especially when you were killed by your own stupidity and not mobs or someone else. You were more than happy to take hits for your friend, often shielding his body with your much smaller one to protect him, but natural deaths were pointless to you. Not to mention that dying this many times in such a short period made an ache develop on the right side of your brain and you knew you wouldn’t be able to be rid of it for hours. You finished descending carved stairs to where you believed you had been and let out a sigh at the effort. Your chest filled with a dull ache at the action. A firework to the chest was certainly a quick way to die. It was far from the most painful as long as it got the job done in one or two shots and the ache would only last another hour or two if you would stop dying.

You thought back on how the events from earlier in the day had transpired. The entire thing had been a shit show and you loathed the next time you’d speak to Wilbur, knowing you were likely going to just yell at him. You weren’t in a great mood because of his little stunt. At least you knew why Techno had killed you and several others on the server. There was no reason for him to sit back and watch Tubbo be executed by your dearest friend. You could only hope that the boys new scars weren’t too bad. He’d have to display them for the rest of this lifetime, after all. Maybe he’d think they were cool like Tommy did.

You slowly unclenched your jaw and relaxed your shoulders, smiling a little at the thought of blond that you spent the other half of your days doting on. He was like the little brother you had always imagined wanting. Mumza had filled your prayers in some fashion, you supposed. A small chuckle spilled from your lips, deciding you’d make Technoblade pay you back somehow for your deaths today. You were up to three now.

A smile curled your lips as you thought of the possibilities. Maybe you’d steal his crown for a little bit. Or his cloak. You giggled to yourself as you crossed the lava pit that you were going to use later for obsidian. Mining in caves this deep was difficult enough without mobs so the lava was a good way to make sure none spawned nearby. Perhaps you could get away with all of the above with the addition of forcing him to make you a cup of tea. That would certainly be fair, wouldn’t it? You were sure if you convinced chat, you’d be able to make him do it.

The ore had been mostly cleared out, all that remained were long tunnels deep underground spanning for what felt like forever. It took you a good chunk of time, but finally you approached him from behind. He had continued mining, cobblestone covering the hole that you had fallen down and ultimately died upon impact in. “You grabbed my stuff, right?”

He pointed to the chest that had been set up, not stopping his assault on a piece of diorite. You flipped open the lid, pulling out several stone pickaxes he had managed to pick up. You didn’t suppose he had kept most of the stone, leaving it in the cave, but the ores, redstone, and lapis you had gathered sat untouched in the chest. “I don’t understand why you continue to use those. They’re flimsy.”

You shrugged before joining his side again, mining away the soft rock. “Because I can keep a large stock of them and don’t have to waste the durability of my diamond one.” You stopped paying attention to the coal you mined at above you as you looked towards him. “Besides, they’re expendable and I don’t have to worry about retrieving them every time I-”

Gravel began to fall on and around you in heavy chunks, obscuring your vision. You were startled for a moment at the sudden assault and you cursed your horrible luck. Of course the moment you were back and trying to resume your task, you’d almost die again. You recovered quickly, feeling the pressure around you as you were crushed and tried to dig your way out of the pile, but more seemed to just fall and replace the gravel you had just removed. It was suffocating. Rocks grated against your skin and you cringed at the sound of them rubbing against each other. You tried to claw your way through, fingers getting scraped as small pebbles cut the flesh. You were running out of air. You hated dying like this.

A hand grasped your bicep and you grunted as you were yanked out of the rubble. Rocks and flint shifted around you as it gave way and filled in the spot where you had just been. A broad chest cushioned you as you stumbled forward. You sucked in air as you rested your forehead against him. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before."

Your laugh was more of a wheeze as you smacked your hand against him, next to where your head rested. You didn’t move, however. Techno chuckled as he pat your back. He’d let you have your moment to calm yourself back down. He wasn’t particularly scared of you dying again, but he knew it had to have sucked. You had been taking the brunt of damage meant for him since, well, every time the two of you spent time together, and he didn’t understand why you were so eager to do it. On top of your clumsiness that already resulted in countless other deaths he didn’t know about, you died for him often when it would have probably only resulted in a minor wound for him. You were so reckless. But that smile you gave him every time somehow dissipated his annoyance more than it should have. It was familiar somehow. The voices loved it more than they should have. They loved you more than they should have.

You didn’t care who he was, how he was, what he did, if he could do something for you. You cared about him. Whenever he was giving too much to the rebellion, whenever he was hyper fixated on tasks and was trapped in his own brain with only chat as company, you were always there. They didn’t mind receding to the back of his head while you two talked, adding in small quips here and there. The loud roar they normally were was typically a small rumble when you were talking. It put him on edge with how much they liked you, but he couldn’t blame them. You provided conversation more often than not. You offered simpler solutions to long problems in his head he’d been breaking apart over and over until it had spiraled into a bigger one than it had started out at. But besides that, you also forced him to sleep, to remember to drink water, to take time for himself. To care about himself the way you did. He didn’t know how to repay you for the unending kindness you showed him. Especially when all you asked for was his friendship in return.

He felt you sigh against him and he moved his arm to free you. You were looking up at him, though, not stepping away.

"Are you alright?" His lips twitched. Shouldn’t he be asking you that?

"Yeah, why?"

"You look mad." A snort escaped him. You couldn’t even see his expression past the mask.

"That's just my face.” You didn’t look convinced. He ran his fingers through your hair, knocking some debris loose. It fell to the floor at your feet. He ignored the way you leaned into his touch. “I’m alright, [y/n].”

You smiled at him. You smiled that cursed smile. It made him feel worthy of the title god; so full of reverence and kindness. You had to have been blessed by Kristin herself. How could you still look upon him like that after what had happened at the festival? How could you show such adoration for a-

“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” He turned his head away. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be the recipient of that smile made from sheer adoration. Your eyebrows furrowed and your smile wavered.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like how Wilbur looks at you.” Your laugh rang through the tunnels. It echoed off the walls and he couldn’t help the swell of something in his chest. For a moment, you reminded him of Phil.

“Why is it a bad thing if I look at you like he does to me? He’s a really dear friend.” Oh dear.

“Don’t tell him that.” The idea of you only seeing him as a friend would break his heart floated unspoken in the air. You didn’t seem to notice it.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.” Techno stepped back from you when it was obvious you weren’t going to do it yourself. He watched you deflate slightly and felt like he had done something wrong.

“It’s not like he wants to talk to me now anyways.” You picked up your pickaxe again, moving to work on the pile of gravel. He offered you his shovel and you took it. “He hasn’t said a word to me since the festival earlier.”

“I’m honestly surprised you’re still talkin’ to either of us after that debacle.” You paused your digging to look at him curiously. “After me bein’ peer pressured into killin’ Tubbo and everyone else. Killin’ you. His plan to do nothin’ ‘bout it. It’s surprisin’ that you aren’t givin’ us both the silent treatment.”

You scoffed, going back to the gravel in front of you. “That wasn’t his plan.”

Techno stilled, his eyebrows furrowing. “What?”

“Wilbur wasn’t planning on just doing nothing. He has TNT planted all around Manburg.” You hesitated, the grip on his shovel tightening in your trembling hands as you continued digging. “I don’t know why he didn’t set it off.”

There was no sound next to you or behind you. Stopping your work, you looked at him, only to see him looking towards where the mouth of the cave was. “We should be gettin’ back.”

A soft sigh left your mouth. “Go on ahead, I’m right behind you.”

You didn’t want to face the fallout.

You returned to Pogtopia late that night. Mining alone had been a good way to soothe your nerves after the events that had happened earlier. Whilst you had wished Techno had been there longer, you understood wanting to regroup. Today had been stressful for all of you.

You walked down the crude steps that had been made after putting the excess resources into the communal chest at the top. There was soft murmuring and the distant sound of Wilbur’s cackle put you a little on edge, but you soldiered on. It’s okay. Tubbo hopefully would have respawned by now. Things would go on. You froze at the top of the walkway down to the primary meeting area.

Techno was wrapping his knuckles with some extra gauze you recognized to be from your chest. Tommy was sitting a little away from him, his back to the wall and his knees to his chest. There was a distant look in his eyes as he stared at the ground in front of him. You could see a sliver of one of your plasters on his face, the bluish purple fabric and white dots a dark galaxy against his pale cheek. Your feet were moving before your brain as you ran to the teenage boy and knelt before him. You should have come back sooner. You reached out to hold him before hesitating, choosing instead to extend your hand to examine the flesh around the bandage. “You look horrible, Tommy. What happened? I thought you were safe after what happened at the festival.”

Techno grunted from the sidelines. “We resolved our issues.”

The boy before you huffed, still looking at the ground, but he leaned into your touch. “Resolved is a strong word, but we’re okay. For now.” He looked up at you and you pursed your lips together. He relaxed at the worry in your eyes. He was safe with you. “Where were you?”

“I was mining. I needed to blow off steam after all of that.” The blond just nodded, pressing his face further into your touch. You moved closer to brush some of the golden locks away from his face with your free hand. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Techno was suddenly beside you both, towering over the two of you. “It stays in the pit.”

You sent him an inquisitive look. “The pit?”

He only nodded and your frown deepened. Anger started to fester in you. Did he do this? To a child? “We are definitely discussing this later, Technoblade.” You watched his shoulders tense for a moment. You didn’t know if it was because of your tone or the use of his full name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. You’d take care of it later. You two always talked things through, and now would not be any different, but you had to worry about Tommy. “You can’t just hurt people and say things are better now.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but you were already helping the blond up to shuffle him to your bed. The child kept trying to wave you off, but you persisted. Despite your ire against him, something shifted in his chest at watching how gentle you were with Tommy. His bond with you was truly something to behold.

Why aren’t they paying attention to us like earlier?

They’re so sweet to him.

Tommy's lucky we didn’t accidentally kill him.

I wonder how they’re so close.

E.

I don’t want to talk to them later.

Why are they mad at us?

E.

So they’re not upset about the festival, but they’re upset about a fight with Tommy? That makes no sense.

Follow them.

This is stupid.

E.

Do they like him more?

Techno sat back in his spot against the ravine wall. He saw traces of a fireplace and used the heel of his boot to push around the sooty remains. Most of the questions chat had were valid, but he didn’t want to pursue you. He didn’t want to have that conversation later, either. He just wanted to move on. But he knew you wouldn’t. Something about how resentment ruins friendships and miscommunication was the biggest cause. He could never resent you. Sometimes he resented the gods, but never you.

He wanted to know what kind of entertainment DreamXD and Kristin got out of watching them over and over and over again. Did they have nothing better to do than continuously create and orchestrate each new lifetime? Each new world with different rules and a different storyline? Or recreate other worlds just to change the plot? There had been so many, but this was the first where they all remembered. This was the first where he had met you.

Techno closed his eyes. None of his lives had been bad. Well, particularly bad. Wilbur always seemed to get off worse than he did. Tommy sometimes worse than them both.

He remembered a life of gilded castles, one of many. He trained Wilbur and Tommy in combat. He studied politics and was a general. He watched the two of them grow up in Phil’s absence. There were handmaidens that were too bold in their words, butlers that were too polite, and inside jokes between him and the guards. There were dinners made of things that he only wished they could recreate here. He remembered that despite any squabbling, they were still very much a family. He knows Tommy remembers that one all too clearly. He doesn’t talk about it often, but Techno knows the look in his eyes whenever Phil is mentioned. He also speaks sometimes about the servant that once tended to his mother but he nor Wilbur could ever recall one. Too many faceless employees. Too many nameless soldiers.

He remembered a different life where Hanahaki Disease roamed rampant. The flowers infected most of the people he knew. Sometimes they got better, sometimes they didn’t. Phil would never catch it. The blurry memory of his friend saying so flashed briefly in his head. That fact didn't surprise him in the least. Phil was a catch. But he had never had to deal with the deadly buds either. He couldn't remember why. His head throbbed gently as he tried to wade through the fog. Wilbur had suffered from it, though. It was devastating when he passed. The flowers choked him, stuffing his airways with petals. Who had he loved so much it killed him? Didn't he love anyone like that? Didn’t he find someone so beautiful that dying was more preferable than a life without them? Maybe he did. There were small flashes in his head of the gentle squeeze of a hand and a smile that could snuff out the sun. Why couldn't he seem to remember their face?

There was another life. A life where markings appeared on his skin. Little scratches, cuts and scrapes that weren't his, doodles, words that he would have never written himself. He remembered sitting through a lecture once, smiling at the little stars that speckled his arm and slowly appeared like the night sky in the twilight of the setting sun. Wilbur had shown off the same markings, and it was brutal irony that the two of them shared this connection with a third. They would play games frequently. Mostly twenty questions or tic tac toe, but locations and true names were always burning scribbles on their flesh when attempted. They tried many tactics to find out more before Wilbur had told them both off. He wonders if they had found their third in that life.

There had always been gaps in his memory, especially when it came to his other lives. Lulls where the mundane had become just a bit too mundane, moments where he just shut his brain off and went by instinct. Things were easier when you didn’t have past lives to think about. When he didn’t have to consider if he had already learnt a lesson and was doomed to repeat it. When you weren’t around to give him glares and words of encouragement and cause disruption in his life. Were Tommy and Wilbur’s lives more difficult with you here too? With someone to tell them what to do and to patch up their wounds and give fleeting touches that were so soft it was like touching a petal? He hopes not.

A sound of distress comes from the direction you and Tommy had gone in and he turns to look. You’re standing there, facing away from him, reaching out towards empty space to someone who wasn’t there. You must’ve been the one to make the noise.

You turn around and his frown deepens. You look tired and more than a little frustrated. It was amazing how much of a difference you stood now compared to the person that clung to him throughout the nether when he had first met you. Your presence was easy. You didn’t ramble like he would disappear anymore. You didn’t look to him for validation with every move. You didn’t act out of the desperation isolation had instilled in you. You had settled like the missing puzzle piece they didn’t even know was missing. Did you ever visit the library that you had once called your first home?

He watches you finally approach him, sitting and leaning against his side as if you weren’t upset. You move to intertwine your arm with his, hand slipping into his own. He didn’t stop you. “Wilbur, he’s-”

“Crazy? Yeah, I know. He wants me to set off withers.” You sat straight up. Shock painted your face a hue that didn’t suit you. Or perhaps it was fear. He didn’t like it.

“Withers?” He nods. Your head spins back to the direction of your bedroom. “Does Tommy know?”

“Tommy knows. I went along with it.” Techno feels you scoot away, releasing your hold on him and he already misses the feeling. “It’s not like we’re tryin’ to salvage the place, [y/n].”

“I don’t want more innocent people to lose another life, Tech.” You look at him once more. “Do Tommy and Wilbur know that you’re hoping to leave nothing behind? Because they both talk about reestablishing L’manburg when given the chance.”

“I keep tellin’ them the truth, but it seems like they’re not gonna listen.” He watches your face fall into a look that he hopes meant acceptance. Your eyes moved to the ground between you both and you just nodded. You didn’t know where you would sit in the aftermath of this all.

Techno felt your hand slip back into his as you take your place back against his side. Pink hair was soft against your cheek as you rested it against his shoulder.

“One step at a time. Let’s worry about getting rid of Schlatt first, okay?” He just nods back, resting his head on top of yours. You squeeze his hand in response. You felt safe again, especially with him next to you “Now-

Tell me about this pit.”

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Fighting For the Right Side

Warnings: Nightmare [Depiction of child death] ; Mention of death ; Allusion to mass murder and bombs

Words: 3.3k

You were quick to settle into your position in Pogtopia. Every day was primarily spent with Techno, but it was relaxing. You farmed, took trips to the bastion you two had met at, he protected you in fortresses, you two even went mining together. He was a comfortable constant in your world. Even when the voices got to be too much, you were with him. But that might have been what caused it all in the first place.

Settling into the small alcove Tommy said you could use, you decided that you could take this brief moment of quiet to read. You felt safe in the ravine, so much so that you had shed your armor back in Techno’s hidden stronghold.

Once sat in front of the fire, you tossed another small log in the flames. You'd have to go find more wood tomorrow but this was enough; The fire burning was bright enough you didn't need to light a torch and waste extra materials they might need, and the air warm enough you only needed a small throw blanket for added comfort to cuddle during the parts of your book the suspense physically got to you.

And so you got comfortable. You relaxed against the wall and you opened your book. Page 47.

Suddenly, sounds bombarded the child - a mad rustling, and then, twit twit, echoing over and over. They were familiar sounds, not particularly frightening, but unplaceable. A heartbeat was louder than anything else and the small nine year old could only wish that the sound were quieter. That everything was quieter.

The maze was an overgrown thing. Something so large that anyone who encountered it knew they could never escape. The shadows kept moving though; rushing faster than legs could ever hope to outrun. Faster and faster they crawled like vines all around. And soon the child was engulfed. Darkness spread to every limb, smothering wails that spilled from parted lips. There were no cries for help or alerts to any who would listen. Soon, nothing remained.

The crash had startled you awake. Your nightmare releasing it’s hold from you at the sudden sound. You relaxed quickly, however, seeing Wilbur in a heap next to the stairs. He must have fallen again. You pressed your lips together, remembering Techno’s words. “We used to have railin’s but Wilbur, he just really enjoyed fallin’ to his death.”

The brunet slowly got up and pat himself off before looking up at you and smiling. A smile like that could have made sunflowers turn to revel in its glow.

“Oh, hey. Sorry for waking you.” His voice was soft, probably to not wake anyone else if they hadn’t already been awoken already.

"Don't worry about it. It wasn’t a very good dream.” He nodded at you in understanding. “What were you doing out? On a secret mission?”

The teasing smile on your lips grew bigger when his smile soured and he scoffed, grumbling to himself about how every mission was technically a secret one.

Yours fell away when he started walking off, his softness darkened with the thought of what happened during his outing. You hesitated. You didn’t want to wake Techno. You two were only just growing closer and you didn’t know how the hybrid reacted to missing out on the little sleep he was actually getting. But you didn’t want to be with your thoughts. Despite not being even remotely close to the man now leaving you behind, you reached out for him. “Hey Wilbur?” He turned to look at you. "Can you stay? Just for tonight, please. I don't want to be alone after that."

You watched his brown eyes brighten and a boyish grin overtake his lips. It reminded you of Tommy’s. You briefly wondered if his mood always swung this dramatically. “I'll stay for as long as you need." He made his way to sit with you and you added another log to the fire, sitting up so the rock digging into your spine shifted away. Wilbur sat across from you, his presence immediately making you relax.

"So, Mr. Leader," You taunted once more, "What was the secret mission?"

In the coming days, you and Wilbur spent more time together. He’d tell you the most random facts about himself whilst you two worked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pay it any mind.

-

"Hey [y/n], guess what?"

"Hm?"

"I was born on September 14th. That makes me a Virgo."

-

"Did you know I can play guitar?"

"I think everyone knows that about you, Wilbur. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought you might wanna hear me play you something sometime..."

-

"You know, I was once married to this wonderful salmon named Sally. You remind me of her sometimes."

-

“With you on our side, [y/n], I know that we’re going to win L’manburg back. And I promise you’ll have a spot in my cabinet.”

It was decided. Techno and yourself would attend the festival while Wilbur and Tommy hung back and watched from a safe distance. You were nervous. A bad feeling grew like a stone in your stomach as they all prepared.

"Hey [y/n], come here a moment, will you?" Sighing as you stood from the chest you were going through, you felt your back pop in a few different places and you hissed before walking to where Wilbur stood. It was silent in the ravine, everyone just as anxious about the festival as you.

"Yeah?" You asked, resting a hand on his arm as you peeked around him at the paper on the table. It was a map of Manburg with “x”s scattered across it.

"Are you prepared?" He glanced down at you, watching the crease in your eyebrows deepen as you examined the plans.

"Mhm." You hummed, finally looking up at him. His eyes were so warm when they looked at you, just like Techno’s. Even if he didn’t have a smile, they were always filled with that same warmth that made you feel important. The two were more like brothers than either cared to admit. "Why?"

"Can I tell you something and you keep it a secret from Tommy and Techno?" Everything around you felt like it had stilled. Everything waiting for the other shoe to drop. The stone suddenly felt heavier.

"What is it?” He continued looking at you and you found it almost hard to breathe. "Wilbur?"

His hand reached to cup your cheek gently. They weren’t calloused like Technoblade’s. They were the hands of a poet, of a musician, of someone whose hand reached for the quill not the sword. They smelled of gunpowder. Your heart felt like it was in your throat when you realized what all of those “x”s were.

“You would risk letting all those people die just so you could have L’manburg back? Why?”

His voice came out hoarse when he finally brought himself to speak. "Because if I can’t have it, no one can, [y/n]. I'm so sorry."

Your lips trembled. You thought of all of the innocent people who would never see it coming. You thought of Tommy and Techno, getting ready in another part of the ravine who wouldn’t know until it was too late. You thought of the man before you who probably felt like he was doomed to keep repeating this action again and again. When had blowing something up ever worked in his past lifetimes? He had to know that this was crazy, right?

Wilbur continued to stare at your frightened face for a moment. He looked so serious. His dark eyebrows drawn together and lips turned just the slightest bit downward. But his eyes? The warmth that filled them seemed to be slowly draining and being replaced with dark melancholy. You hated that look on him and drew your hand up to hold the one cradling your face. “You don’t have to do this, y’know. There is always another way.”

Wilbur stepped forward, pulling you into an embrace that smelled of cedar and leather. His hand left your cheek to instead hold your head to his chest. You didn’t like this hug. This hug felt like he knew things were going to go horribly wrong and he didn’t want you to see the aftermath of it. “If there were one, we would have found it by now.”

Your hands gripped the soft material of his trench coat and you pressed your face into his sweater. You didn’t want this. You were happy to help where you could, but you didn’t want to be a part of the destruction of a nation. You just wanted to help your friends overthrow a tyrant. “I wish I were as brave as you, Wil.”

The soft huff of a chuckle reverberated through his chest as he squeezed you tighter. “Did you know that that’s the first time you’ve called me something other than my name?” His voice was uplifted at the end. He almost sounded happy by the thought. It was squashed when he sighed, pressing his face into your hair. “I wouldn’t call it bravery, though. Still, I promise that we’ll all end up on the other side of this together.”

You tilted your head up a bit to look at him. “Where else would we be?”

He didn’t answer you, just held you tighter.

If there was one thing Wilbur couldn’t describe himself as, it was good.

In previous lives, he had been a cruel, sadistic god. He forced hundreds of people to compete for his entertainment. They were rats, moles, ants, sometimes even just humans while he played the part of omnipotent creator. He had been a king sometimes, or a hero. And time and time again, he was just an older brother. But no matter what, he couldn’t seem to save the people who loved him the most. He couldn’t protect the ones who looked up to him; be it because he found sick joy in their deaths, or because he wasn’t strong enough.

He never felt strong enough.

When Technoblade had told him of the strange person whom he had met in the nether, he almost brushed it off. There was no way he had met someone whom he hadn’t shared at least one lifetime with. There was no such thing as new players who weren’t just NPCs.

However, when you stepped into the ravine, inventory absolutely filled with different items that you just willingly handed over to the pink haired hybrid with a smile, he was utterly floored. The curve of your lips, the tone of your voice, even the look in your eyes were all new to him. He had never once met you.

He approached the two of you with hurried steps, wondering what kind of trick you were playing, only to freeze when you turned your gaze to him. He could hear his own blood rushing through his ears and, for a moment, he wondered if you could hear it too. The expression you wore unnerved him. It was as if you had seen every lifetime, every possibility. Yet you still had the nerve to smile shyly at him. When you waved at him in silent greeting, he knew Technoblade had been completely correct in his assumption. Your lives were missing from your wrist.

You were an investment.

But no one made him feel as powerless as you did.

You were able to try things over and over and over again. You weren’t held back by memories of mistakes or fears. The tiny flits of trauma they all seemed to feel were just… absent in your being. You were unapologetic about running errands in Manburg and doing reconnaissance whilst you were out, seemingly unafraid during the recounts you had given him of meeting Schlatt and Tubbo for the first time.

And this seemed to hold true in your interactions with Tubbo. He didn’t treat you with the same feral energy he shared with Tommy or the attitude he put forth for his leaders. When you weren’t spending almost every waking moment with Technoblade, the soft murmur of your soft voices being heard through the stone walls that led to the farm, you were interacting with one or both of the teenagers that helped fuel the rebellion. Tubbo told you about new ideas he had, or described to you his day, or even just explained to you things that even he himself knew he would have trouble understanding, despite Tubbo being the one to explain them. Wilbur noticed that you just did that. You listened patiently while someone talked, despite the knowing look in your eye that made him feel like you already knew exactly what they were about to say. And this seemed to carry over into your relationship with Tommy.

You paid rapt attention to the blond, reminding him that even if he was still technically a child, that doesn’t mean he didn’t deserve to be listened to. The oddest part he found, though? Tommy actually returned the favor in kind. It wasn’t so much that you would go on long-winded tangents and he’d be forced to sit there and listen. It was that when you asked or told the sixteen year old to do something, he did it without too much of a fight. That’s not to say he wouldn’t talk back to you, he did almost every time, but it was the point that he would still do what you said without much hesitation. And every single time, Wilbur felt the sharpest stab of envy.

He had questioned Tommy after the first couple instances of it happening before him. He had cornered the very person who had been his younger brother in many previous lives against the cold stone wall on one of the walk ways while you and Techno were out gathering things from the nether and demanded to know why. However, the young soldier just shrugged in response. “They just usually have very fun ideas.” He had stared long and hard at the blonde, the other fiddling with the hem of his dirty shirt. He made a mental note to ask if you’d be willing to do laundry for them when you next went to Manburg. “That and…”

“And?” Wilbur had immediately prompted, knowing the time he had to question the younger was running short.

“They just have that tone of voice. And something makes me feel like I should listen when they tell me to do something.” Wilbur rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to berate him. “Sometimes it feels like they know way more than they should. Like they already know what’s going to happen.”

The brunet’s words died on his tongue.

They all felt like that.

But if you knew so much, why did you never talk about any of your past lives like the rest of them did? If you knew what was going to happen, why were you so patient and let them make mistake after mistake?

The thought sat bitterly at the forefront of his mind as he pat himself off, having fallen off the side of the walkway yet again. He almost regretted removing the child-proofing, but he was an adult, and he didn’t need them, and he certainly wasn’t going to recant his insistence that they didn’t need them. He turned when he heard shifting and saw you slumped against the side of the ravine.

In the dim lighting, you looked different. You were cuddled under a thin blanket, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pressed into a pout that reminded him of a child. He must have awoken you. You looked rather cute like this, though.

He smiled at you despite himself. He was still a little hesitant about being around you. He didn’t need help in his daily activities like Technoblade, he didn’t need a guiding hand like Tommy, and he felt plenty listened to daily, unlike Tubbo.

But somehow, he didn’t feel as loved as you were.

“Oh hey, sorry for waking you.” The words had slipped from his mouth before he had had a chance to stop them. Now he’d be forced to converse with you. He watched your eyes look away from him, even in the dim light.

"It wasn’t a very good dream.” You didn’t have good dreams? What was there to have a nightmare of? He tucked that piece of information away for later, your eyes were back on him. “What were you doing out? On a secret mission?”

His mood immediately dropped, especially when he saw the mocking grin that planted itself on your face. It was as if this were a game to you. “Every mission we pursue is a secret one, you of all people should know that.”

The grin just grew and he felt his chest tighten. How could you act so lax when you seemed to know exactly what happened when he was out there? He turned to walk back to his desk to write about the events that had transpired and quell his anger. He wasn’t truly upset with you, he knew that, and he didn’t want to take that out on the one person that seemed to be holding together his fellow usurpers, but you almost irritated him. His soft steps reverberated through their base.

“Hey Wilbur?”

His steps faltered. Despite your previous mood, you suddenly sounded so small. Afraid. He looked at you from over his shoulder and was surprised to see your extended hand.

“Can you stay for tonight? I don’t want to be alone after that.”

A new feeling sparked in him.

You wanted him? The one who had been so helpful for everyone else, to the cause, even to him on occasion, needed his help? How bad had your dream been? You looked so distraught, so powerless. He didn’t feel so weak when you looked at him like that.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need.” Your eyes held a warmth that could rival the fire in front of them. You moved to feed it and he sat across from you. You two weren’t close in either sense of emotionally or physically.

When had that changed?

He felt compelled to check up on you more after that night, use you as the investment that he believed you to be. No one in Manburg knew of your status, and he was planning on using it to their advantage.

Or, he had been.

But you made him feel safe about sharing things about himself. You were easy to talk to, easy to work around, easy to listen to. You would have been so easy to use.

Maybe that’s why he told you of the plan he and Tubbo had come up with.

You had found your way into much more than his good graces, just like the rest of them, and he didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. You were so susceptible to influence, he feared you’d start to see him as a villain. He knew what people would say about him. He wanted you to know his thoughts and feelings before you could be tainted by their remarks.

He had shared memories with you before. They all had. Words seemed to fall unencumbered whenever you were around and they were all victim to it. But you hadn’t judged any of them on the actions they had taken in their previous lives. You didn’t even judge them on the actions they had taken in this one. Despite this, he was still scared you’d be turned against him if he wasn’t the one to tell you.

“I think everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”

It was his turn to prove that they were fighting for the right side.

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: The First Time

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

Warnings: Violence ; Death

Words: 3.5k

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

Home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chat’s whispers echoed through his mind.

E.

I wonder who they are.

They can’t be older than Tommy.

E.

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

Wilbur will want to know about this.

They said their name was [y/n]?

Maybe they’re like Phil.

Pog.

E.

Blood for the blood god.

E.

They’re probably closer to Wilbur’s age.

Stab them.

Jump off the edge.

Push them off the edge.

E.

Techno, will you call my friend Rachel a nerd?

All warfare is based on deception.

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

Could it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

How many times had you died?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

E.

Greek mythology pog.

Semi-demi god for the win!

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

E.

Persephone is definitely the hottest.

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

They’re stupid.

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

E.

They haven’t died again yet?

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

Save them.

Technoblade, wasn’t Eris the daughter of Zeus?

E.

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

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

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

Two more left.

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

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

One more.

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

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

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

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

Was he waiting on you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TechnoSIMP.

E.

Look at how cute they are.

They’re stupid.

Take them back with us.

You should give them something for helping.

Hug them.

Awww look at them!

All warfare is based on deception.

He stopped that thought before it could fully finish.

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

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

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

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

He chuckled at the thought.

Such a tiny god compared to him.

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

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

[fleursdemeduse]

DSMP Remembrance AU Idea

AU where the DSMP characters all remember all of their character's past lives:

Everyone remembers their roles in Tommyinnit’s Unbeatable Method of Avoiding Sudden Death

Everyone but Ranboo remembers their roles in Passerine

Dream and George remember Heatwaves the best

There’s even flits of memories from every AU they’ve been in

And sometimes it’s overwhelming but they don’t fully remember any of the little AUs?

Just the really self-defining ones such as TUMASD, Passerine and Heatwaves

Which strengthens bonds between a lot of DSMP members but also makes them mildly hesitant about others but everyone knows their souls are all interconnected at this point

However

No one has memories of you

You never talk about your past lives like the rest of them do

And there's no lives tracker hearts on your wrist like everyone else, but you can still access the comms system?

At first, everyone is skittish around you because of these things

You’re not some random faceless villager

You’re not a god like DreamXD or the Samsung Smart Refrigerator or Kristin who is the Goddess of Life and Death

It’s like this is your first life

Everyone obviously hounds DreamXD for answers and Philza questions Kristin

But aside from the coy smile Kristin has and the silent head tilt that DreamXD gives

Kristin only tells Phil that you are a friend