Farlands destruction scenario with some personal indulgence… Wifies self implosion..
TW: gore???, death
1012 words
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Wifies’ hand is cold.
It’s always been cold, even when they traversed the scorching depths of the nether. So it’s no surprise that it’s freezing as Parrot reaches for it now. Wifies is sitting against a fallen wall, legs outstretched, and Parrot kneels to clasp his hand in his. There’s no visible reaction from Wifies, no tightening of his hold, no fingers tangling around his, but Parrot understands. He fucked up, he sees it now.
The sky overhead is a deepening burnt orange, littered with broken planes of invisible players long gone. The air is suffocating, tingled with red and smelling of tnt that had rained destruction upon the land he so desperately tried to protect. It glows in the approaching night, gleaming crimson from the carnage. The farlands are gone, reduced to rumble from the long battle. A battle that Parrot had lost. A war he could not shoulder despite all his words and promises. The once buzzing civilization was now a quiet symphony of crackling flames and crumbling stones. It’s just the two of them now, just Parrot and Wifies. He feels his heartbeat go faster and faster, erratic in his regret, and there’s a ringing in his ears. Parrot takes in a large breath. His heart doesn’t steady and the ringing only gets louder. The dust in the air burns in his lungs as he exhales, but he pushes down his urge to cough and lowers his head to rest on the hand he’s holding onto.
It feels cool against his skin and comforting in all the ways he doesn’t deserve. Parrot lifts his head so it hovers over Wifies hand instead, tracing circles on his knuckles all the while. “You were right, Wifies. I was being reckless, I wasn’t thinking,” his throat burns as he rasps out word by word. There’s no response from Wifies, but Parrot doesn’t dare to look him in the eyes, not if he wants to finish everything he wants to say. It’s shameful to be unable to meet Wifies’ eyes, cowardly even, but this is all Parrot could muster at the moment. He has to apologize to him, Wifies deserves a complete apology at the very least.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry I ignored you. You just wanted me to be safe. I was-,” he gasps for some much-needed air, and in a quieter voice he whispers, “I was being selfish. I wasn’t being considerate of your feelings. I’m sorry, Wifies. I’m really sorry”. Parrot can feel the beating of his heart at the back of his throat and he takes in yet another breath of air. His heartbeat slows down to a thrum and he swallows.
He opens his eyes- when had he closed them?, and he finds that he’s been gripping Wifies’ hand too hard. Parrot quickly loosens his grip and mutters out yet another apology. He begins gently running his thumbs over the light indents, brushing away the dust he’d left on Wifies’ hand. The dust on their hands feels gritty and the grains stubbornly cling to his joints and refuse to go no matter how he tries to wipe them away. The red dusty air coils around them like a noose, bringing with it the night chill. Wifies still hasn’t uttered a word, but Parrot is alright with that. He doesn’t deserve Wifies’ forgiveness. Not with a measly apology, not with all he’s made him give up ever since the moment he stepped foot on this server. He has to be alright with that. Wasn’t this exactly what Wifies had done? Parrot can handle groveling, he’s got the kneeling part down already.
But his selfish heart yearns and yearns. The hand in his grip may be cold but Parrot knows that Wifies’ pulsing chest is warm, he’s spent enough time huddled close to it that he can imagine the steady hum of his heart and the affectionate cradle of his arms. His eyes shouldn’t water at the lack of response he’s getting. He should be happy that he’s able to hold Wifies’ hand at all, with redstone staining his hands akin to blood. He’ll gorge out his beating heart and serve it to Wifies on a platter if it means he could nestle into Wifies’ warmth again. The biting wind gathers more and more dust and with every ragged breath, Parrot takes in more and more of it. The chill permeates his bones and surely Wifies feels it too. Jagged rocks dig into his knees as he decides to slowly shuffle closer.
Wifies doesn’t protest so Parrot presses closer still, almost straddling his thighs. He closes the distance between them, gingerly setting his head on Wifies’ shoulder and wrapping his arms around him. Immediately, Parrot pulls himself back, his movements frantic as he realises: Wifies is cold. His hands, his sides, his face, they’re all freezing to the touch. He’s never felt this cold before. Parrot finally allows himself to trail his eyes over Wifies, and oh, he sees the problem now.
Wifies’ sweater is torn, the yin-yang pattern on it stained by grainy redstone. Glowing red dust seeps out of the gaping hole in the front of Wifies’ sweater, its color gradually dimming to a dull maroon. The surrounding dust in the air flickers and its glow dies out, welcoming the descent of night. Parrot notes to himself that he should ask Wifies for his sweater tomorrow. He’ll stitch right back it up and Wifies will never have to be cold again. Maybe he’ll make a pair of gloves for him along with it as well for his hands. Parrot takes in another breath, redstone penetrating deep into his lungs and he settles back down on Wifies’ shoulder. He shifts so that his body blocks out most of the night winds and wraps himself around Wifies once again. The mobs have come out, lured in by sparse dying flames, gleaming beacons on a starless night. Tonight, in the rumbles of a once beautiful civilization, Parrot promises himself to keep Wifies safe for a change.
I was yapping to @pineconnie abt Parrot making Wifies cookies the other day and this thing spawned in my docs. Hi Connie :D.
This was supposed to be small drabble but it turned out to be a 1140 word monstrosity instead lol. As usual, feel free to drop any constructive criticism if you have any, I’m still pretty new to writing fanfics. Have fun!
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“So you’re saying this Wifies guy left you stranded in the middle of nowhere after traveling with you thousands of blocks from spawn?”, Theo asks as he swipes at Parrot with his netherite sword. Parrot blocks the heavy blow with his shield, chest heaving. Theo didn’t hold back, casual spar or not.
“Well, he did say he wanted us to hide from the mafia. But don’t you think that’s useless?”. Parrot tries to get a hit in, but Theo just weaves around and takes another swipe at him. “And this is the same guy that helped you win Capture the Flag and get your council seat?”. There’s a hint of bewilderment in his voice, but Parrot doesn’t have time to dwell on it before Theo sweeps his legs from under him.
Parrot hits the ground and he feels his body go slack. He groans. Theo had beaten him in every round so far, but he didn’t seem to have any intentions of stopping until Parrot actually managed to get him down on the ground today. His arms burn from exhaustion and he squints against the bright sun. A shadow blocks the blinding rays and his vision clears to see Theo holding out his hand to him. Parrot takes it and Theo hauls him up with one arm, a satisfied smirk on his face.
Theo takes off his shades to wipe the sweat off his brows. There’s a look in his eyes Parrot can’t decipher as he faces him, “He’s that farmer in the purple, right? Can’t exactly blame the guy for not wanting to go head to head with all those diamond players like we did.” He puts his glasses back on and pats Parrots on the shoulder, “From what I’ve seen, he seems like a half decent guy. The way he looks at you all the time, I don’t think he meant much harm. Why don’t you two talk over lunch or something?”. The familiar flames of anger begin to lick at Parrot’s heart, but he finds that what once was a burning inferno of rage was now a tamer flickering ember.
Parrot doesn’t say anything to that, merely looking down and shifting his weight from one side to another, but Theo seemed satisfied enough with his reaction. He moves back into position and Parrot goes back into stance and their clashing begins again. But Theo’s words continue to ring in his head after their spar no matter how many times Parrot tries to forget them.
They continue to linger even as Parrot laid in bed that night, pondering over the past few days. He didn’t understand what Theo had meant about the way Wifies looked at him, but it has been different without Wifies at his side. Wifies did help him in that fight with the ice, so he supposes that he should thank him for that. He’s not completely forgiving him, but a gift wouldn’t hurt right?
And that was how Parrot found himself in the kitchen the next day with a bag of flour, sugar and a couple eggs in front of him. He remembers that Wifies mentioned liking red velvet cookies once but he didn’t have a clue how to make those. Surely, Parrot reasoned, chocolate chip cookies were close enough, containing chocolate and everything. He didn’t have any luck finding chocolate chips in the pantry but luckily, he managed to get a chocolate bar off Ratrick. He did have Parrot fork over most of his strength pots, but Parrot figured he could just get more at the farmer’s compound later.
Baking the cookies went relatively well, all things considered. The first batch Parrot made had come out burnt at the bottom but the second only came out a little misshapen. The chunks of chocolate he had cut out looked the right amount of melty and the cookie itself was just a little past golden brown. Parrot couldn’t afford to taste it but it smelled okay, so he decided to wrap that batch up.
It’s late-afternoon judging by the sun outside, so he figured Wifies should be free right about now. He pulled out his communicator and sent Wifies a message, 'Meet me in front of the statue’.
Having messaged Wifies, Parrot threw the cookies inside a bundle and flew over to find Wifies sitting at the base of a stair in front of the statue. Wifies seemed to perk up at the sound of him landing, and he quickly stands to face Parrot. Standing face to face with Wifies again after all that’s happened, Parrot looks at him. Really look at him this time.
He notes that Wifies’ hair seemed unkempt and under his eyes were bags even deeper than the ones he had that time when they were confined in Proton. There’s a weariness in the way his shoulders slumped and how his eyes just barely fail to meet his and Parrot’s heart aches.
There’s a festering emotion in his chest he can’t identify as he pulls the bundle out of his inventory and practically shoves it at Wifies. “I made something for you”. Wifies fumbles to catch the bundle, eyes wide in disbelief. “For me?”, his hands are shaky as they reach in and pull out a cookie. His eyes lit up at the sight of it and Parrot can’t seem to remember the last time he saw that expression on Wifies. Parrot watches as Wifies’ face breaks out into a tentative smile and he quickly adds, “This doesn’t mean I’m completely forgiving you though”. The sinking feeling in his chest grows as the words leave his mouth, but there’s no point in taking them back.
Wifies huffs and his eyes crinkle as they move towards the ground. The smile on his face is smaller now, but it’s there if Parrot looks closely enough. “Yeah, of course Parrot. Of course”, Wifies softly murmured as he brings the misshapen cookie to his mouth.
Parrot’s eyes follow the cookie as Wifies brings it up to his mouth, but he looks away just before Wifies could bite into it. He finds himself shuffling his body to face the setting sun instead, it’s light giving the buildings around them an orange hue.
It’s silent for a while, just of two of them and the rustling of the trees. But Parrot was never one for patience and he breaks the silence, “So, how are they?”. He hears the sound of Wifies moving to face the sun as well, and his voice is soft as he responds: “They’re delicious. Thank you Parrot, I really appreciate it”.
The silence returns, but this time it stays as they both move to sit on the stone stairs. It’s a comfortable silence, occasionally broken by Wifies munching on his chocolate chip cookies, but that’s enough for the both of them for now.
I present to you my very first fic ever!!! ~1.7k words brought to you by my Kww obsession…
Sorry in advance if I didn’t do their characters justice please don’t burn me at the stake. 🙏
Shipping ahead, proceed with caution now.
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Wifies knows he’s not in the factory anymore.
He’s very aware of that fact; he’s made aware of that fact every day he wakes up in a soft bed and hears Wato in the kitchen, a warm spot on his left and Ken curled up on his right. He’s grateful for them, they’re the reason he’s still here after all, but he can’t shake the feeling of wrongness every time he gets up and sees his own face.
Today, Wifies awakes to a sunbeam to his face and Ken’s ears tickling his nose. Like usual, Wato’s side of the bed is empty but the leftover heat tells him that they haven’t left for long. He moves to untangle himself from Ken, making sure to be extremely careful about his tail. Wifies had accidentally squished it while getting up once and Ken’s resulting yowl and scratches were something he’d rather not experience again. Ken whines at the loss of warmth, but he quiets down again once Wifies wedges his pillow between Ken’s arms with a fond smile.
He drags himself into the bathroom, taming his hair on the way, and stops in his tracks. In front of him stood the mirror, and Wifies felt himself standing up straighter. He had never seen a mirror until he left the factory, there was no need for them in the escape rooms after all, but despite having easy access to one now, he never fails to stop and stare, and now is no exception.
When he peers into the glass, all he sees is him. No, he sees them. In the mirror, he sees the face of his creator, the original Wifies, the real Wifies, the person who had mocked him to his face and told him his destiny was no more than to become mere parts. It’s the same face of those soulless clones he had seen trapped in a glass cage, aimlessly solving puzzle after puzzle and then ground up into scrap metal. It was through those clones that Wifies first became aware of what his face looked like, and it was moments later that he learned that the face he had was not his.
It makes him sick. There’s a knot in his stomach that gets tighter and tighter the more he looks at himself, the more he drinks himself in. Wifies takes a step towards the mirror.
He slowly brings his hands up to his face and traces his brows, bringing them lower as he trails his fingers around his eyes. They’re dark, not quite the color of the hungry void, but yearning for something nevertheless.
“Like crying obsidian” Wato had once said. “But we’ll make sure the tears won’t have good reason to come, yeah?”. Wifies doesn’t have it in his heart to tell Wato that he’s incapable of tears, though he treasures the sentiment with all he has.
He moves on lower, going down the slope of his nose, tracing back up his jaw, and he has to give credit where credit is due. The original Wifies was attractive, he had to give him that. There’s not a single flaw, no crookedness to his nose, no slanted jawline and Wifies drags his nails down his cheeks. His synthetic skin doesn’t welt and all Wifies feels is a dull ache. He hates it. Wifies knows this face of his would never change no matter how many times he does this but-
It feels wrong. This unblemished, symmetrical face of his feels wrong, wrong, wrong. It easily could have been one of those other Wifies Ken had saved. It easily could have been his creator who had won. Why was it him that lucked out? He’s not anything better than them, he had just been lucky. His survival was based solely on the RNG that Wato had so often complained about escape map designers relying so often on. After all, no matter who made it out of that factory, they’ll all look the very same in the end, would they not?
Wifies jolts. He slowly moves his hands away from his face and back to his sides. ‘No’, he decides, ‘none of that today’. Ken and Wato had spent so much time reassuring him of his newfound freedom and he would not throw away their combined efforts today. However, his eyes still advert themselves from the mirror and Wifies tries to bury the spark of disappointment he feels at that.
As he moves to tie his signature headband around his head though, he notices a pencil on the rack next to him. He recognizes it: it’s an eyeliner pencil, a brand that Ken swore by.
“Makes your liner sharp enough to cut a bitch” was what he said at the time.
Wifies’ eyes quickly dart around the bathroom as if he expects something to jump him, but after a moment, his hand reaches out. He picks up the pencil and with shaking hands, brings it right under his left eye. Wifies steels himself and looks into the mirror again, this time leaning in to leave a splotch of pigment at the corner of his eye, where a tear would appear if he had been capable of shedding one. A stain on the perfect canvas that was his face. He puts the pencil back down, takes a step back, and stares.
One tick. Two ticks.
Wifies doesn’t know how long he stood there staring at his reflection, but that knot in his stomach loosens just a little. In the mirror, he sees neither his creator nor the trapped clones. The person in front of him no longer had the same face he had seen hundreds of in his dreams. He looks like Wifies, Ken’s Wifies.
He hears a breathy laugh and seconds later, he realizes that it’s coming from him. It’s silly really. All he’s done is draw a dot on his face and suddenly the sinking feeling in his stomach is gone. It’s not logical in any way, but it’s still the reason for the stupid smile he sees in his reflection.
“Wifies? Are you alright in there? I’m coming in okay?” Ken’s voice drifts through the door.
He turns around and a moment later, Ken’s head peaks into the bathroom. “What are you up to today? You don’t usually-” his eyes scan Wifies’ face and zero in on the artificial mole he’s given himself.
“Oh”. Ken’s eyes soften in a way that never fails to make Wifies want to follow him anywhere, like the first time he led him off the winner’s podium, walking above the literal void. Ken walks up to him, flips him back around to face the mirror, and wraps his arms around Wifies. He rests his face on his shoulder, and oh, Wifies has never felt quite like this before.
“So, any plans for the day handsome?” Ken asks, tail wrapping around their legs.
“You think I’m handsome?” Wifies blurts.
“…..Wifies my hands are about to go under your shirt right now”. A tick. Wifies’ eyes move down the mirror to see that yes, Ken’s hands had indeed snaked down to the bottom of his shirt. His eyes dart back up and he’s met with his own bewildered face.
Another tick. “Yes, I think you look really good right now Wifies” Ken sighs, an exasperated look on his face. Ken’s hands move back up to Wifies midsection and he pulls Wifies closer. “It suits you” Ken murmurs.
They stay like that for a few moments and then Ken perks up, raising his head from Wifies’ shoulder. He turns his head to the door and Wifies follows suit. A second later, Wato’s figure emerges from behind the corner, and upon seeing them, their tail begins to idly wag behind them.
“I was wondering why no one was coming down for breakfast. Are we doing hugs in the bathroom now?” They ask head tilted to the side, and Wifies starts to make grabby hands at them, coaxing Wato closer.
They oblige, and Ken scoots over to let Wato in on the embrace. Wifies looks in the mirror again and he sees the three of them pressed close together, their limbs barely fitting into the frame. Ken on his right, Wato on his left, and himself in the middle. It’s a beautiful picture they paint, and Wifies decides that he likes seeing them together like this. Wato peers into the glass as well. They smile and there’s a tender mirth in their voice as they say “Heh, Wifies sandwich”.
There’s a fluttering feeling in his chest, but Wifies ignores it so that he can shove Wato’s face out of frame. He can hear Ken snickering at their antics, and Wifies ignores that too. He can feel his ears heating up.
“Wato, look at Wifies and agree with me that he’s handsome”.
Wato indulges him, and their eyes go half-lidded as they lean closer to the mole Wifies drew below his eye. “Hey handsome”, their hand gently intertwines with one of his, and- “did you know they say that moles are where your past lovers kissed you most?”. They press a kiss right on the mark, and Wifies is gone.
Ken barks a laugh, leisurely pressing a kiss onto the back of Wifies' neck. “Should we add one here too then?”, he questions as he continues to trail kisses up to his jaw. Wifies’ head feels muddled, as if Wato and Ken had stuffed his brain full of cotton from their words alone.
His knees feel weak, his eyes are glued to his reflection, and he tries moving his mouth but nothing comes out. The Wifies in the mirror looks like a goldfish. Wifies tears his eyes away and groans into his remaining hand, the one that Wato hadn’t taken hostage. His face feels hot, and he’s probably as red as an apple right about now.
Both Ken and Wato break into giggles and Ken takes Wifies’ hand off his face, entangling it in his. He has nowhere to run now, and both his hands are in the hands of two menaces who want him dead.
Thankfully, Wato seems to be in a merciful mood today. “Alright, alright, let’s get some food for you two, it’s already noon.” Ken decides that food was worth a pause in embarrassing Wifies, and begins to drag him out of the bathroom. They head towards the stairs, and both his hands are still being held. His hands are warm and his heart feels fuzzy, and yeah, Wifies thinks he can get used to this.
