Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was another gloomy day at the observation rig. The sky was overcast and the light drizzle was threatening to pour. The air was on the cooler side, though the rain itself was almost icy. There was a rolling fog that covered most of the sea from sight. The only lights were the low-burning lamps of the rig and the soft glow of the coral reef’s sea pickles. The fishing trawl was docked against the rig, buoys gently bumping against the wharf. It was dark and dreary, and as soft as the light of the reef was, out in the distance of the fog it did nothing but hide whatever may be lurking below.

So, in other words, a perfect day.

Gem hummed happily as she cast out the line of the crate once more. After ensuring it was secure and the pulley wouldn’t snap, she shuffled over to the other section of the rig and turned on the coral farm. There was a loud, bursting hiss as steam puffed out of the corners of the boiler. The lava she had collected boiled the water. The pressure of the steam pushed the waterwheel to creak into motion, going faster and faster until it was at a moderate pace. The observers and dispensers began click-click-click ing away as the coral was bonemealed and harvested with swift repetition. 

Satisfied with the productive day she would have, Gem pulled her thick, dark blue coat closer. She had a matching dark blue rain hat on for when the weather got drizzly at the rig. She sat at the end of the rig and cast out her line away from the fishing crate, gently kicking her feet where they just barely skimmed the surface of the water.

Gem sat that way for a good hour. Her coat and scales made it so that she would have to sit in the freezing rain for far longer to get sick. Her ear twitched when the bell attached to the fishing crate rang. She reeled in her line and set her fishing rod aside. Her black gloved hands gripped the crank of the pulley and she began to haul in what she caught. She frowned at the weight and put more muscle into the crank.

Had she caught some coral? Or maybe a shark had gotten stuck in the crate? Maybe even a guardian? Regardless, the crate was heavier than normal. Not enough to cause a true struggle, but enough to be noticeable.

Gem hauled the crate out of the water, and stared at what she caught.

There was a child in the fishing crate. They were pale and clammy and emaciated. Almost a skeleton with how little food was on their bones. Their clothes were tattered and torn and dirtied in a way that couldn’t have been caused by the sea. They were missing their shoes and their toes were starting to discolor, a sign of frostbite that may have been caused by the waves, but also from wherever they came from. Scars riddled their sickly pale skin. Their eyes were screwed shut in pain.

They jerked, coughed, gagged, and vomited up sea water, gasping for air. Their grey-blue eyes were delirious as they tried to sit upright and failed, falling back among the crabs and fish. They vomited up more sea water and Gem couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose. She reached out her hand and grabbed the edge of the crate, pulling it gently over to her. The child—teen, probably, actually—mumbled something frantic and incoherent, before gagging and dry-heaving. They retched once more with nothing to come up, before they collapsed, breathing heavily.

Gem dumped the fishing crate’s haul back into the water. She swiftly locked up the rest of the rig and turned out the lanterns, before scooping up the worryingly light teen and bringing them into the trawler. She gently toweled them off as best she could, before wrapping them up in towels and blankets.

She would take them home through the Nether, but Tango had coached her on how to deal with hypothermia last year and she knew that sudden and drastic changes in temperature would only throw the body into shock. So, instead, she started up the trawler, and set a pace for Magic Mountain. While still on the open sea, she turned back and began rummaging through her things. She had a spare set of clothes. They would be too baggy but also too short on the teen. Regardless, it was better than their wet clothes, so she stripped away the rags and gently replaced them with her own spares. The teen had started shivering, which she took as a good sign. She wrapped them up in her blanket and set them on the bed she had in the wheelhouse of her trawler.

Gem then began to gently rub feeling back into the feet of the poor teen. It wasn’t much, but it started to chase the discoloration away. Once sure that they wouldn’t lose their toes, Gem wrapped their feet in her spare pair of socks. She double checked that their hair was dry and that their body was covered by the thick blanket, before turning back to her controls. Just in time, too, as the stretches of land that narrowed from sea into a bay came into sight. She trundled along through the channel, past the bamboo jungle and savanna, and out of the rolling fog of the sea. The storm had not yet reached Magic Mountain, which was nice because that meant that she’d be able to get her guest inside before the rain hit.

She docked in her wharf, gathering up her guest and bundling them out onto the dock. Her sleepy little town was covered in mist as it always was, but she smiled at the familiarity. Her legs swayed a bit as she went from the rocking boat to the sturdy dock, but she was very used to wandering about with sealegs, so she continued on with practiced ease. She moved from the docks and up into her own house on land, wiggling the ill-fitting door open with practiced ease, before shoving it closed. She set her guest down in her bed and then just stared for a while.

In the flickering lamp light, the hollows of their cheeks seemed even more gaunt and the bags under their eyes far more pronounced. Gem studied them for a long while. Originally, she had been just planning on settling them in for the night and then handing them over to someone who could help them get back to where they came from, like Cub or Xisuma.

But no one who came from someplace good looked like that.

So instead, Gem kicked off her boots and socks and set down her heavy coat, her shimmering blue wings stretching with relief, her fin-like tail whipping behind her. Gem hung up her coat and hat by the door, and walked around the kitchen on swaying legs as she slowly got used to land once again. She put a pot on the stove and turned the knob, hearing it click-click-snap! until the gas stove popped on and the small, blue flames began to heat the bottom of her pot. She poured in water and stock. She was about to put in clam, before realizing that even if clam chowder would be liquid, it would still be too thick for someone like her guest. So, instead, she set it aside and pulled out the cooked chicken from her fridge. She tore most of the meat off its bones before dumping the chicken into the broth and let it simmer. She made herself a shredded chicken sandwich while she waited.

Once the broth had finished simmering, she strained out the chicken carcass and was left with a pretty good chicken stock if she did say so herself. And, after a taste test, she most certainly did. Gem turned off the burner, but let the pot sit. She would heat it up when her guest awoke. In the meantime, she pulled a few of her old textbooks off of her shelf and began to refresh her memory on healing starvation.

Author's Note:

I think in one of her tutorial videos a few years ago Gem had mentioned being in nursing school, so I'm gonna say her character knows a good amount about nursing, not just from being a good fighter.

also I'm aware that while pretty good Gem is not the absolute best fighter on Hermitcraft, but she is in this story lmao

Chapter Text

Tommy couldn’t stop waking up drowning.

Every day for the past month, he woke up choking on seawater. He would claw his way back to the surface and cough and sob and scream, before he laid on the beach for hours until Dream came to kick him awake again. Every day. For weeks. It was routine. Yet, even still, despite waking up drowning and being kicked to get up by his (best friend) warden , Tommy still pulled himself up. 

He was starving, he was thirsty, he was exhausted, his throat hurt, and he couldn’t tell if he was constantly on the brink of tears or too numb to feel anything. But still he got up, and despite knowing it was fruitless, he’d try and gather materials before Dream made them explode.

Then Dream found his stash of items. Little things he’d squirreled away. 

Tommy was left in a smoking crater and shivering in the freezing cold rain despite the smell of burning flesh. The Nether portal had been shattered. Tommy was starving, and cold, and tired, and crying. He dragged himself to his feet.

This time, it was no accident when his head sank under the waves.

He woke briefly, swaying in the air in a way that had his stomach turn. He retched and seawater poured out of his mouth. He shuddered at the feeling and tried to sit upright. It only made his stomach swoop more. More seawater crawled up and out of his throat in a way that had him shuddering. He cracked his eyes open, stinging with seasalt. He saw nothing but gray and a blurry figure. He was pulled closer to the figure. He tried to squirm and beg Dream to please not hurt him, but his jaw wouldn’t move properly. He couldn’t feel his hands or fingers and his limbs trembled from both the cold and the energy it took to sit up even slightly.

He retched again, bile stinging at the back of his throat, but nothing else came out. He slipped back into unconsciousness.

Tommy woke up warm. Not uncomfortably warm, mind you. A soft kind of warmth he hadn’t felt in… well, since he was a child. Since before even L’Manberg. The blanket over him was soft and thick and just the right amount of heavy, a soothing pressure on his limbs that made him feel real for the first time in months.

His sea-crusted eyes cracked open almost painfully. Thankfully, there was no sunlight in the room. His head was pounding enough as it was. Still, he could make out shapes in the dim lighting of what he assumed was a lowly lit lamp in the corner. Something moved and he flinched, but only succeeded in making his body ache. Someone shushed him gently, barely audible through the seawater in his ears.

They carefully propped up his aching body, even though that had him wincing. Something was pressed against his lips. Liquid trickled down his throat. Tommy choked and sputtered, trying to keep from drowning. Someone shushed him again, murmuring soothingly to him. It registered that the liquid wasn’t as grainy or as sweet or as cold as the salty sea water. He strained against his gag reflex the second time the cup was pressed against his lips. Something in him still screamed that he was drowning, but the rest of him sighed in relief as the lukewarm water soothed his aching throat and dry tongue. The water was swapped with another liquid. This one was slightly warmer and tasted of chicken. He didn’t get much of either, but was laid down either way. He was placed on his side. The new position stretched his muscles, but in a way that wasn’t unpleasant.

Tommy was vaguely awake and mostly delirious as he threw up the broth and water. He couldn’t keep down the other three either. He couldn’t tell how long there was between when he received water and broth, but he knew they weren’t back-to-back.

The fourth time, the water and broth stayed down. The same with the fifth, and the sixth, and so on. With each time he was able to keep down the water and broth, he got a little more the next time.

He still wasn’t fully aware, but his blurry eyes were getting better and better. He couldn’t make out more than shapes, but colors were coming easier. Whoever was nursing him back to health was colored in shades of blues that weren’t the pure, lapis lazuli of Ghostbur, but rather navies and dull turquoise and darker colors. There was the occasional shimmer of a brighter blue, like a clear day on the ocean, but those were rare and only caught in the lamplight. Otherwise, it was wine-dark like the sea. The true pop of color was the shock of brilliant orange that reminded Tommy of the sunrise. 

Tommy didn’t know who they were, but they were gentle with him in a way no one had been in years and years. Longer than he could remember. It made him ache and want to lash out and lean in in equal measure. But still, there wasn’t much he could do either way, so he instead laid there, pliant, and allowed them to help him.

Despite how agonizingly long this must be taking, the person seemed to have endless patience with him. They ran warm, wet rags over his eyes to help free them of the saltwater sting. They fed him water and broth. They even helped him with the more embarrassing parts of recovery that thankfully tended to mostly slip his brain, like relieving himself or giving him warm but not scalding sponge baths. At least once a day—he assumed—they would also force his limbs to stretch. They would curl up his legs and stretch them out, repeating the gesture with his arms. They would force his ankles and wrists to roll around and put his body through its full range of motions. Curl, hold, stretch, hold. They even helped to stretch his spine. The times that made his heart race and him try and murmur protests through his delirium would be when they would gently cup his head and begin to carefully stretch his neck. They would soothe him with kind whispers he still couldn’t retain the meaning for, and he’d be rewarded with a small chunk of broth-soaked bread that they helped him chew.

The first time Tommy was vaguely lucid, they helped him sip down a far thicker broth that had a meaty taste he couldn’t place. The person talked softly to him, and he decided he liked the soothing sound of their voice. After a few stretching sessions where they could see that his body could handle the thicker soup, they began introducing more solid foods. First it was just soft, broth-soaked bread. Then small kernels of something he’d only had once, rice. Then small chunks of chicken and fish that practically melted away in his mouth.

Tommy was only halfway lucid by this point, and they still had to help him around, but slowly, Tommy’s ears and eyes began to clear. After what he assumed was a few weeks of being cared for, maybe even a month, Tommy blinked open his eyes in the morning and was able to clear most of the blurriness from his eyes. He turned his head toward the door as it swung open. A woman dressed in navy blues—aside from her sea-blue corset—with scattered shimmering blue scales that were a cascade of shades of blue stepped in. her fiery orange hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, a wine-dark bandana tying it out of her face.

She blinked at him with dark, forest green eyes, and she smiled. The same familiar soothing cadence that had been murmuring to him for likely a month now greeted him.

“Good morning.”

Chapter Text

Tommy stared at the unfamiliar woman with bleary, disoriented eyes. He had never seen her before. Was she new to the SMP? She had to be for her to be breaking his exile like this… then again… Tommy didn’t recognize this building at all. And it was far too well insulated to be in Logsteadshire. The woman approached and set the tray she was carrying onto the bedside table. She pulled up a stool and sat down, smiling at him kindly.

“It’s good to see you’re awake,” she said in a soft and sweet voice. It vaguely reminded him of Niki, yet something new altogether. “You’ve been pretty out of it for the past week and a half.”

Tommy rasped, attempting to talk, but his tongue wouldn’t move properly in his mouth. The woman braced her arms under him in a move that made him attempt to flinch, but his body was too sore to move. Still, it didn’t ache as much as he recalled. She propped up upright against the headboard and he could see the rest of the room far easier now.

The room was cozy, in a word. Bookshelves stuffed to the brim with books and journals and loose papers. Old maps pinned to the walls. Potted plants settled in almost every available corner. There was a thick, fluffy, cyan blue carpet against the spruce wood floors. There was another door shoved into a corner by a large dresser. There was a window, but it was covered by heavy curtains. Still, she had left the door open behind her, so Tommy could see he appeared to be on the top floor of whatever building he was in.

“My name is Gem,” she said, confirming his thoughts that she was new to the SMP. “I fished you out of the ocean about a week and a half ago. You’ve been in and out of consciousness since then, but you’re able to stomach semi-solid foods.”

Gem pressed a glass against his lips. Tommy would normally rage at being babied like this, but he was so tired . He could hardly even move his arms. He sipped at the water. Gem pulled it away after a bit. Tommy wet his lips and tried to speak again, though he still slurred his words a bit.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, just how Dream taught him to. He fought back a shiver at just the idea of him, but if this woman truly was new, it was possible she may report anything and everything he did back to Dream. Tommy didn’t know what kind of fucked up test this was, but he refused to fail. “My name is Tommy.”

Gem smiled at him, a genuine warmth to it that made some part of Tommy’s heart he had yet to forcibly callus over ache .

“It’s lovely to meet you properly, Tommy,” she said. She turned back to the steaming bowl she’d brought in. It was on the tray alongside the water, a chunk of bread, and an ornate, crystalline vial that was filled with a familiar shade of purple. Tommy had never seen such a fancy potion bottle. It was square at the bottom, and the glass seemed to twist slightly, before it was shaped into scale-like patterns up to the lily-shaped stopper. All the bottles of potions Tommy had seen were misshapen and brittle, something fast and easily broken, nobody wanted to waste time drinking potions anymore.

The woman uncorked the regeneration potion and poured it into the spoon for the soup, before stirring in the potion and recorking the vial.

“Why are you doing that?” Tommy couldn’t help but ask, his brows furrowing with confusion. He could just chug the thing and be done with it.

“Because, your muscles have started to atrophy,” Gem replied as she gently stirred the soup until all of the potion had dissolved in the broth. “If you just drink it now, it may stunt the growth of your muscles. It’ll strengthen them, sure, but they’ll basically be sealed into the size they are currently and you’ll have trouble stretching them.”

Tommy glanced at his bone-thin arms and pursed his lips. He supposed that made sense, but he’d never heard of that before. Gem seemed to answer his question without even asking.

“You see,” she said as she tucked away the regen potion, “healing potions and regen potions are finicky. Sure, you can just chug ‘em if you really wanted to, but it may end up doing more harm than good. For example, you wouldn’t drink health for a gash, you’d drink regen. That’s because not only will the health potion regrow your skin, but it will boost whatever got in the gash as well, leading to festering bacteria. Of course, that doesn’t mean you don’t want to clean the wound before applying a regen pot, but it would still be better in an emergency. You want regen in small doses that match the size of the injury. A tablespoon a day for regrowing muscles, half a standard bottle for a large gash or even gutting, a full one for broken bones. Health potions can be used in larger doses for a variety of things with little to no downsides, but they’re basically all surface level fixes.”

Gem was a very animated woman, Tommy had noted as the more she rambled, the more her hands flew about. Regardless… it wasn’t as startling as the initial time her hands began to move during her talk.

“And of course you want to make sure you start the healing process without potions as well.”

“Wait, what?” Tommy blurted, as that kinda went against all of his previous experience. “Why?”

“Because otherwise whatever you’re trying to fix will heal wrong! For example, if you broke a bone, you need to set it before drinking regen. Otherwise the bone will seal together incorrectly, and you’ll have to rebreak it anyway to fix that! And even potions only go so far in helping to heal rebreaking trauma!”

Gem huffed slightly, but she didn’t truly seem upset, especially as she smiled immediately afterwards.

“Sorry, I recently reread my textbooks for nursing and I’ve been having them in my head on repeat,” she giggled. Then she picked up the bowl. The soup was far thicker than anything Tommy had had before, even more so than mushroom stew. It smelled of fish, but a kind Tommy couldn’t place. “Here.”

Tommy couldn’t help wrinkling his nose as she held out a spoon to his lips, but even he could admit when he physically couldn’t move his arms without pain, so he did his best to ignore the bright blush on his cheeks and accepted her spoon feeding him. Gem made the process a bit more bearable as she rambled throughout the soup. She talked about terraforming—which was wild to him—and fishing, mostly. She also threw around a few names he didn’t recognize, which concerned him. How many new people had shown up on the server? And why were they all there?

Once Tommy could stomach no more, Gem set aside the bowl. She then began to gently but forcibly stretch his limbs. She explained that this was to help the regen potion ‘know’ not to fix his muscles in place, it would also help his muscles keep up their strength, so when he was well enough to try standing on his own, it wouldn’t be as hard on him.

“This will take time, Tommy,” Gem told him kindly as she helped him stretch his legs. “Probably a month or two.”

“A month?” Tommy exclaimed.

“Without the regen pot it could be as long as a year.”

Tommy fell silent.

“This will be an everyday thing, stretching, just like the regen pots. In a few days, we’ll try to get you standing and begin to work our way up. After a month or so, you will have recovered enough to do non-strenuous activity. It will take another few weeks until you can start straining yourself, and even then you’ll need to be careful. But you will be able to start doing other activities, like sparring, running, swimming, etcetera.”

Tommy nodded along as she stretched his arms in their full range of movement. Whenever he pulled a grimace at any discomfort caused, she would apologize for the discomfort, but insist it was necessary. Tommy didn’t know enough about healing to really dispute her, and she sounded like she knew what she was doing, so…

Despite not actually moving around on his own, Tommy was exhausted when Gem was done stretching him.

“Okay, now comes the embarrassing part,” Gem said, standing.

“What?”

Gem had to help Tommy into and out of the bathroom. She also had to give him a sponge bath, which was mortifying. She seemed unbothered. Tommy was not, forgetting all about whatever Dream’s test might have been, instead cussing her out and just generally yelling. His face was bright red and thankfully she let him attempt to clean some parts of himself by himself, but his legs, arms, and back had to be done by her because he couldn’t move around properly.

Now exhausted, embarrassed, and in brand new clothes that were more comfortable than anything he’d worn in years, Tommy was back to being buried under the orange quilted covers, glaring at an amused Gem.

“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad!”

“SAYS YOU, BITCH, THAT WAS TERRIBLE!”

Gem just laughed.

Chapter Text

Being nursed back to health was… interesting. Gem herself was actually pretty nice to be around, sponge baths notwithstanding. She was kind and patient and whenever Tommy made any inch of progress she showered him with praises that had his cheeks burning. Even when he fell short of previous accomplishments, such as when he had been able to wash himself fully one day and the next was hardly able to move at all, she still praised him and chattered about how amazing his progress was. The worst part was how sincere she was! Not a hint of sarcasm anywhere!

Tommy gripped the railings she had made for him as he shuffled forward, face red with exertion and legs sore as can be. His arms trembled with exhaustion. He collapsed back into the chair.

“That was so good!” Gem cheered as she gently wiped away sweat from his brow with a cool rag that he leaned into. “You’re doing amazing, Tommy! That was five more steps than yesterday!”

“Only five,” Tommy grumbled, frustrated even as something warm stirred in his chest at the praise that had once been so hard to gain.

“You’ve only been standing for a week, Tommy, let alone walking! You’re making fantastic progress!”

Tommy’s face was now red from compliments rather than exertion. He cleared his throat, not looking at Gem.

“Can we go down to the docks today?”

Despite how often he woke drowning, despite everything with the ocean… Tommy liked being on Gem’s docks as she fished or built or organized. The smell of the sea was different from Logsteadshire. It was still on the cooler side, but not as cold as that beach had been. The beach itself was also far more rocky, with dark, jagged stones jutting up from the bottom and threatening to spear the bottoms of boats.

In the mornings and evenings, thick fog blanketed the sleepy fishing village, obscuring everything but the lighthouse and pinpricks of lanterns. But during the day, the fog receded and while it was mostly overcast, there were still brilliant sunny days that warmed the ocean and had fish playing and parrots chirping from their spots on the powerlines. The power lines themselves were interesting, and Tommy still didn’t really understand how electricity worked, but he didn't mind not knowing.

Tommy’s favorite view was a tie between the lighthouse and the side of the mountain. The lighthouse was orbited by two large, phantasmal fish. One golden fish and one that shimmered in arrays of purples. Tommy was unsure what their story was, but it was breathtaking to see them floating through the air in serene, lazy circles as they guarded the lighthouse.

On the side of the mountain was a massive, petrified skull. It was stone and mossy and dark all at the same time. Its jagged maw opened to show the belly of the mountain as well. From its left eye socket, a waterfall cascaded down, a constant, distant, soothing noise. But despite how ominous it was… it wasn’t scary. It was cool! Tommy liked to stare out at it and imagine from the docks.

Gem had taught him how to fish. His hands had been one of the first recovered since Gem wanted him to have fine motor movement, so she focused on physical therapy for his hands and arms. Sometimes his arms still grew shaky, and it would still be a while before they were fully healed, but he could move them far better and more reliably than his legs.

Gem smiled at him, bringing him back to the present. She grabbed the wheelchair she’d apparently had commissioned for him and helped him into it, before rolling him downstairs in the ramp she’d installed.

Tommy enjoyed the sunny day with a mug of tea in his hands and birds chirping above as he gazed across the bay towards the skull cave.

~~~

“You want what?”

“I want you to meet my Admin!” Gem repeated, still having a sunny smile on her face as she bustled around the kitchen. “It’s nothing serious, I just want to make sure there’s no glitches in your code that’ll stunt your healing, that’s all!”

Tommy wavered for a long moment, flashes of green and smoke and pain flitting through his mind. “… Dream already knows everything he needs to.”

Gem paused. She turned. And she had the most confused look Tommy had ever seen.

“Who’s Dream?” She asked, and Tommy’s brain ground to a halt.

“It’s- he’s- he’s Dream . You know, the Admin ?”

Gem looked no less confused. “Is he your old admin or something? I’ve never heard of him.”

“ You’ve never heard of - but- wait, so this- this isn’t-“ Tommy really should have had this realization sooner. After all, if this was actually Dream’s server, there would be no where Tommy could go that Dream couldn’t find him. “This isn’t the Dream SMP.”

Gem gained a very soft look on her face that had Tommy bristling even as his cheeks flushed. “No, Tommy. I’ve never heard of that server. You’re on Hermitcraft!”

Tommy stared. He blinked once, twice. Gem’s soft expression remained.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No?”

“So, so your admin… he’s….?”

“XisumaVoid,” Gem answered easily. “You can just call him Xisuma, or X. Or anything, really, he doesn’t seem too strung up over nicknames.”

Tommy couldn’t focus on Gem’s reassuring words as he was having a crisis at the kitchen counter.

You see, the average lifespan of an Independent Server— or SMP (Server of Multiple Peoples)--- was a few decades at the oldest, and those were whitelist servers that consisted of less than ten people. After all, Administrator duties are very taxing, even if they are powerful. The Admin duties of the Server Hubs—where most people lived out their early or later years of life—were shared and cycled throughout multiple generations of councils of Admins. There were very few servers that lasted longer than that with more people. Those that did, were manned by generational Admins, who had the mantle passed down from their parents and grandparents.

The shining exception to this was Hermitcraft.

Split into seasons that seemed to last for ages. Sometimes new people joined, sometimes people left, but it mainly consisted of the same group of people. They had one Admin. Only ever one Admin.

XisumaVoid .

He wasn’t just an Admin. He was the Admin. He was the founder of that Server, and while he likely had a Moderator or two, he was the only Admin. He was the be-all, end-all of his Server, and he had existed seemingly forever . No one knew when he came to Be, but his Server was founded the same year that Golden Apples had been discovered to exist . Hermitcraft began only just after the dawn of everything .

No one knew the exact criteria to be invited into Hermitcraft, but occasionally, every few seasons, someone new was added. And usually, those people had steadily been rising in fame under their own power, even if they did not interact with many others. Hence the name ‘Hermits’.

It clicked, suddenly, why Gem’s face and name had seemed so familiar to him.

This wasn’t just Gem, the nice fishing-builder lady who helped nurse him back to health.

This was GeminiTay , the cottagecore queen of Hermitcraft. Granted, it looked like she was currently deviating from that expectation, but he could pick out the softer elements of her decorating that alluded to that aspect of her.

Everyone knew the Hermits, but some people focused more on some than others. For example, Tommy knew that Techno was interested in FalseSymmetry, the best PVP player out of the Hermits and anyone else who got in the way of her blade. Meanwhile, Wilbur— for whatever reason (probably the explosives now that he looked back on it)--- was endlessly infatuated with Grian, who was generally known to be a Menace with a capital M when he wasn’t building beautiful structures.

… now that Tommy was really thinking of it, that odd macaw hybrid that he’d seen across the bay and occasionally flew overhead had really familiar wing patterns.

Tommy was on Hermitcraft . The place notoriously impenetrable to hackers .

Tommy was going to pass out.

Ding!

“Oh!” Gem smiled. “Dinner’s ready!”

… he was going to pass out right after dinner!

Chapter Text

This was fine. This was fine! Tommy was a-okay! It wasn’t like he was going to be meeting with the most powerful Administrator across the known realms in two hours or anything! Not at all!

This was so incredibly fine and no, Tommy was not about to pass out thank you very much!

Tommy was chill. He was cool. Cooler than a cucumber or whatever the fuck the saying was.

…actually, what was a cucumber-?

Tommy was rattled from his thoughts when the door slammed open. He shrieked, tumbling out of his seat as Gem also yelped, though she kept her balance.

“GEM!” the macaw hybrid who lived across the bay yelled, looking disheveled in the doorway, fake beard and mustache half-peeling from his face, a crazed and manic look in his eyes that had Tommy shrinking into himself.

“Oh my stars, Grian !” Gem complained, confirming Tommy’s earlier hypothesis. “What possessed you to break down my door!”

“No time for that now, Gem!” Grian cackled, making the hairs on the back of Tommy’s neck rise. Grian grinned wide. Too wide. His teeth were far sharper than any avian’s had any right to be. His black, bottomless-pit eyes were wide and wild. “ We’re blowing up the mountain !”

“You’re what?!”

Tommy’s breath got lodged in his lunges as Grian cackled maniacally. Explosions echoed in his ears. Sulfur and gunpowder stung at his nose. Laughter echoed in his ears.

“It was never meant to be!”

“My unfinished symphony!”

Tommy’s vision went black before his head even hit the floor.

Xisuma was a bit excited as he flew to Gem’s base. She had let him know months ago that she’d fished up an incredibly injured boy from the sea. But too many people would likely stunt his recovery and overwhelm him, so Xisuma settled himself by checking the newcomer’s code from a distance and patching up the hole he’d likely stumbled through. Xisuma wasn’t certain of the circumstances of the boy’s arrival, but it was certainly nothing good from what he’d gathered.

Well, Xisuma was always willing to provide reprieve for injured and lost souls. So, he wasn’t too fussed over this predicament, mostly just concerned. 

As he approached, however, the sounds of arguing— more like scolding, actually— became more and more apparent. Xisuma landed and hesitantly pushed open Gem’s door. The boy she’d described was passed out on the couch with Gem’s jacket hastily thrown over him. The woman in question was currently trying valiantly to choke out Grian with her bare hands as he screeched apologies and raced around the house, trying to dodge the water dragon’s dangerous claws. There were a few marks in the wood, tell-tale impacts of tridents having been thrown.

Deciding that whatever Grian did, he probably deserved it— it was incredibly difficult to get Gem this incensed, after all— Xisuma slipped past his feral children and settled by the unconscious teen instead. Now in closer proximity, he was able to get a better read on the horribly mangled code. He’d gotten all that he could straightened out from the distance, but being closer he could get cracking on the finer details.

Xisuma hummed to himself contentedly as he smoothed out the poor teen’s code, ignoring the squawks of Grian as Gem grabbed her ladle to use as a bludgeon with practiced ease. If he wasn’t able to block out the sounds of threats to bodily harm he’d never get any work done.

“I’m sorry, Gem!” Grian exclaimed, launching off the rafters to dodge her next swing. “I said I’m sorry - WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP TRYING TO HIT ME -?!”

“ GET BACK HERE YOU BAD, BAD BIRD! ”

After a few more swings— and a probably very uncomfortable respawn— Grian was finally left alone. The macaw hybrid was curled up on top of one of Gem’s shelves, a shulker in his hands filled with apology gifts for the teen he’d apparently scared so badly he’d passed out. Gem, meanwhile, relaxed against her plush armchair with a mug of tea. She had another ready to be poured to help calm the boy’s inevitable nerves and a third for Xisuma. He gratefully took the tea and continued his work. Eventually, Grian god bored and left, promising to return to apologize when the boy woke up.

“Message first!” Gem called after him.

“No promises!”

“ Grian !”

Xisuma hummed happily as he untangled a particularly snarled code. He watched, pleased, as the boy’s furrowed brow finally relaxed and his dreams grew more pleasant. The Admin clicked his tongue at the code before him.

“Just where was this boy?” Xisuma tsked. “This code’s in such a sorry state! I don’t think he’s been updated for at least a few launches, and any recessive traces of hybrid status seems to have had an attempt to be shredded!”

Grian’s head flew up from where he’s been sticking his tongue out at Gem. His void-black eyes shimmered a dangerous purple, his feathers shifting oddly.

“He’s a hybrid?” Grian asked, eyeing the boy critically. Xisuma shrugged.

“I can’t tell if he’s got any active traits, but he’s definitely got dormant traits.”

Grian hissed quietly in the back of his throat, like a creeper or a lit fuse, his feathers warping oddly once again. Gem frowned, her own features fuzzing around the edges, but she got a handle on her emotions faster, the fins of her current form sharpening once more.

“How fast do you think you can fix his code?” the changeling asked, the fangs poking out from her lips betraying her underlying anger. Xisuma thought as he gently tugged away another ugly knot of code.

“‘Fix’ is such a strong term…” Xisuma hummed, the noise warping the air around himself slightly. A manic grin split Grian’s face at the visible evidence of his Admin’s anger. “His code will have trauma for a while. He won’t be able to world-hop for at least a few years, especially because however he got here the firewalls singed his code. He’ll also need to adapt to the updates that have happened since his last server. It’s only been a few, thankfully, so the adaptation won’t take long. Unlike someone .”

Grian stuck his tongue out at Xisuma with significantly less glee than he had with Gem.

“I made my choices,” Grian sniffed.

“We know, Grian,” Gem said flippantly, ignoring the wing she was lightly bapped on the head with. “But that’s not why I was asking. I don’t know if you fixing his code will interfere with Tommy’s physical recovery.”

Xisuma noted down the name as he replied. “Unless he has hybrid features he’s supposed to have active, it shouldn’t. Well… adjusting to the new update may make him more sleepy than usual, but nothing drastic. If anything drastic does happen, then I’ll be able to handle it.” He peered at Gem through the glass of his suit with sympathetic eyes. “Don’t worry, Gem. His code is bad, but it’s far from the worst one I’ve encountered. I think whatever happened to him only began in recent years.”

Gem gave a long sigh of relief slumping back into her chair.

“Okay… that’s good.”

Xisuma smoothed out the last knot in Tommy’s code. All that was left was the updates and the shredded hybrid code. The latter would take a bit longer, but it was something he could work at slowly. Instead, he combed through Tommy’s code with a gentle yet firm hand, filtering out any lingering threads the firewalls didn't already sever, and set the boy’s code to begin the first update adaption.

“He’ll be out until tomorrow morning,” Xisuma said, standing. “Message me when he wakes up, I’ll come over to meet him then.”

Gem stood, taking the cup from Xisuma’s hands. “Okay. Thanks, X!”

“I’ll come back then, too,” Grian said, hopping off the shelf.

“I will message you when Tommy agrees,” Gem told him sharply. Grian just shrugged and skipped out of the house. Gem rolled her eyes fondly as Xisuma chuckled. The Admin left Gem’s house and flew back, satisfied with the day’s results. The firewall was patched over and strengthened five-fold, he smoothed out most of the gnarled code, and he got to meet his new Player.

All in all, a good day.

Chapter Text

Ranboo’s day started out pretty shitty, actually.

For some reason, a few months ago, Dream had started getting agitated . Any mention of Tommy made him lash out— violently because how else would anyone on this void-forsaken server be capable of reacting? . There was a long period of time where no one saw Dream. Not in his usual way, as he’d pop in on someone at least every few days, he was annoying terrifying like that. But instead, for a few weeks, it seemed like he’d just left the server unlike them, they could never leave someone save them please- . And that wasn’t possible because their communicators would have said something. 

After the few weeks of radio silence, Ranboo had started to feel like he was being watched . It was the one good thing about being half enderman. No one could sneak up on him. He always knew when someone was watching him. Always . But whenever he turned, there was no one there. Just a flash of green that sent a spike of pain through his head. Sometimes, when the man was feeling funny , Dream would let Ranboo catch a glimpse of his mask in the dark corners of Snowchester. Just quick enough that Ranboo would question if they actually saw it or not.

Ranboo had always had the fear that Dream was the one in control of their Enderwalk state, that Dream was using them to… well, Ranboo didn’t actually know what Dream was doing with them, but that just made it all the more horrifying. But regardless, it meant that Dream didn’t need Ranboo to be aware when he called for them. Which was why it was mildly confusing and extremely horrifying that Dream had showed up in broad daylight and started chattering away to Ranboo like they were old friends.

… okay so maybe they were old friends. Ranboo was whitelisted for a reason, after all. They just… couldn’t remember why. But even if he and Dream were old pals, why would Dream be choosing now to talk to them? It didn’t make sense to them. Then again, not many things on this server did. Not to Ranboo, anyway.

Ranboo was polite to Dream, of course. After all, Dream wasn’t doing anything wrong per se. Not- okay so the stalking thing was very creepy and also very not good , but Dream wasn’t doing anything wrong when he was talking to Ranboo. Besides, Dream was the Admin. Ranboo would always err on the side of caution with him. So, Ranboo was polite and engaged in conversation— not the Dream seemed particularly interested in the conversation, but whatever— and showed Dream around as he would any other guest. He offered the man some soup, and Dream went on his merry way. The eyes didn’t return for the rest of the day, and Ranboo considered that a job well done.

The problem was the Dream kept. Coming. Back .

Almost every other day, Dream was poking around Snowchester. It made Tubbo furious when he ran into the masked man. The other boy had drawn an axe immediately, only held in place by Ranboo.

“Why did you hold me back?” Tubbo spat later that night, the two of them tucked away in the kitchen where Michael wouldn’t hear them argue.

“Tubbo, think ,” Ranboo pleaded. “I know Dream’s bad, okay? It’s one of the few things I’m sure of. But he’s still the Admin ! Who’s to say he won’t hurt you? That he won’t hurt Michael ?”

Tubbo glared at Ranboo— at their nose, actually, which made them feel warm despite the argument— before slumping over all at once, leaning against the counter with his forehead in his hand. He sighed, his eye bags clear and prominent. It had been months since he stepped down as president of L’manberg. That honor now belonged to Quackity and Fundy. Instead he made their own little paradise of empty cabins, Snowchester. But still, the repercussions of presidency weighed heavily on his shoulders. Tommy had apparently refused to see him. Ranboo had a note in their journal that they were similarly banned from seeing Tommy.

…he missed Tommy. His first friend on the server. His first friend period .

“I know…” Tubbo whispered, defeated. Ranboo carefully pulled the shorter boy into his arms.

“It’s going to be okay,” Ranboo murmured, despite knowing there was no way to keep that promise. So, he didn’t promise. Just hoped. Tubbo sniffled and wrapped own arms around Ranboo in a firmer embrace. Ranboo tightened their own arms accordingly. “I’ll handle this, Tubbo. Okay?”

“...okay. Be careful.”

“I’ll try.” That was all they could do. Tubbo knew that too, by the silent shaking of his shoulders and his ever-tightening hug.

So, Ranboo continued to entertain Dream whenever the Admin came poking around.

“Soooo, Ranboo,” Dream drawled one day, his head cocking, the ever-smiling mask making the innocent motion immensely creepy. “Where’s Tommy?”

Ranboo paused, brows wrinkling. He turned to look at Dream. Dream gave no clues in his own body language. Was… was this a test of Ranboo’s memory?

“Uhm… in exile…?” Ranboo replied. Dream leaned closer. Ranboo leaned away, eyes darting away from the stare that had the back of their neck prickling, a shriek building in their throat.

“Are you sure?” Dream pressed. Ranboo blinked down at the top of Dream’s mask. He pulled out his memory journal and started skimming through it. No change, none that was written down, anyway.

“... yeah? Unless no one told me? Why, did- was he let out of exile?” Ranboo couldn’t help the hope in his last words. Dream stared for an uncomfortable few moments, before leaning back, body language relaxed and easy, hands linked behind his head.

“Nope!” Dream chirped cheerily, something that caused ice to flood Ranboo’s veins. “He’s still there. Just wanted to make sure you still remembered that.”

Ranboo forced a short, awkward laugh. “Oh! Oh- uh- well, I mean- thank… you? Thank you! I appreciate- uh- I appreciate you… checking in?”

“No problem!” Dream said in that still cheery voice. Still, Ranboo relaxed slightly that the thanks was the correct route. Every conversation with Dream was like a minefield. Ranboo wasn’t looking forward to when he inevitably tripped into one of the hidden traps. “So! Want to do anything?”

Oh that- uh oh, that was an expectant tone if ever Ranboo had heard one. Ranboo’s tail lashed before he forcibly stilled it, shuffling his feet instead.

“Uh- I mean… I don’t have any plans…?”

Ranboo did have plans, by the way. But Dream wasn’t leaving and there was no way he was bringing Dream home with him!

“Good!” Dream cheered. “Come with me!”

It was not a request.

Ranboo followed.

“What- uh, what are we doing?” Ranboo asked after a long while of walking in silence. 

“How are you with archery, Ranboo?”

Ranboo swallowed. He could hear the manic grin in Dream’s voice.

Oh boy…

Chapter Text

Tommy’s head pounded. He groaned, cracking his eyes open to see the wooden ceiling of his new bedroom. He rubbed his knuckle between his brow. Why- did he faint ? What the fuck! Why did he faint ?!

Then he remembered the maniacal cackling and the scent of gunpowder and rocketed upright, blanket falling from his chest. The living room was empty, the beginning of dusk just starting to brighten the room. He looked around. He was all alone in his room. There was a glass of water on his nightstand and a note. Tommy picked it up, crumpling the paper slightly in his grip. He squinted through the dim light and read.

‘Tommy-

Good morning! You passed out last night when Grian came to visit. Grian is our neighbor, you’ve seen him fishing or flying overhead sometimes. He’s part of the Magic Mountain group with us! Anyway, he was really sorry for startling you last night. I told him he could only come over again if you said it was okay, but he might show up again anyway to give you a gift, he’s pesky like that >:(. Anyway, You seemed like you really needed the sleep, so I brought you up to your room to sleep better! X will come by later today when you’re ready to see him! Unlike Grian, he’ll actually message ahead.

Leftovers are in the fridge, so feel free to heat some up for breakfast, or make yourself some toast! I’m going to be leaving early this morning to go visit some Dungeon Trials with Skizz— our other neighbor with the big pyramid— but I’ll be back no later than noon! If you want X to come over earlier just send him a letter through our mailbox, otherwise I’ll be there with you! X will also fix up your comm during this meeting so you won’t need to rely on me and our mailbox for messages anymore lol.

Lots of love,

Gem’

Tommy totally wasn’t tearing up at the signature, fuck off! He just- it was a little dusty, okay? He hadn’t dusted his room in a while! 

Tommy sipped at his water and blinked away the not-tears at Gem’s easy inclusion of Tommy into her everyday life. Once he could see suitably well and his vision wasn’t blurred with not-tears, he stood on slightly shaking feet and started to do the Gem-mandated morning stretches. He had to admit, he did always feel better after them. He still couldn’t do very strenuous activity, but he was able to run around without fear of collapse now! He just had to stretch beforehand. And after. But it was fine, it made his legs burn less, so whatever.

Tommy ambled down the stairs— he’d insisted on the attic room despite Gem offering to simply build him a room on the main floor— and rustled around the kitchen. He listened to the twittering and mimicked musical notes the parrots chirped as they woke up with the sunlight. He popped on one of his new favorite discs— Mellohi and Cat would always be his favorite— and spent the morning eating Toast as he watched the sunrise and listened to Otherside. Dream had never Updated the Server from 1.16, so Tommy had no idea there were new discs to listen to! And goat horns! So many cool new sounds and he was ecstatic to be able to hear them.

Tommy had always had a love for music, ever since he was a child. When he’d gotten his own discs he’d been over the moon! He played them all the time. There was hardly a moment he went without music and it made something in him settle . 

Then Dream had come along.

Tommy violently shook his head, determined to not think about it, because if he did think about it he wouldn’t be able to do anything for the next few hours.

A small voice in his head that sounded a lot like Gem reminded him that he used to be unable to do anything the entire day and that only being incapacitated for a few hours was an improvement. It was annoying. He wasn’t tearing up fuck off!  

Tommy grumpily crammed his toast into his mouth. Once Otherside stopped, Tommy gently placed the disc back on its shelf and grabbed the fishing rod from the door rack. There wasn’t much else to do, since he didn’t know what projects Gem was working on and didn’t want to mess up any current ones. Gem had let him practice building by helping her make her own builds. The huts down by the beach looked pretty okay, if he did say so himself. Cobblestone and oak was still his favorite combination, but he supposed tuff was a fine compromise.

Tommy plopped down at the end of the dock and cast his line into the water. He peered down into the murky water and was just able to make out the limp tentacle that was hanging out at the edge of the chasm. There was apparently a chasm down in the bay that had a kraken sleeping in it. That Gem made. Thinking about that kind of made Tommy’s head hurt, so he filed that way to ask his roommate sister about another day. Instead, he just focused on the bobber and how cool the skull looked half-shrouded in the morning mist as the sun slowly rose.

Tommy continued fishing for a good half an hour. Right when he started getting bored and considered heading back inside to grab another music disc, there was a soft thump on the dock behind him. Tommy whirled around, ready to whack whatever it was with his fishing pole.

The parrot hybrid— no, Grian , the Grian — grinned at him from a few paces away.

“Hi!” he chirped. “Sorry about yesterday, didn’t mean to startle you.”

Tommy blinked, mind blanking for a long, awkward moment. Finally, he coughed roughly and turned away, watching his bobber with rapt attention.

“S’ fine,” he said as gruffly as he could— which, admittedly, was not that much. “Shouldn’t have fainted.”

There was a rustle of feathers and Grian sat down on the docks next to him. With a burst and fizzle of light, Grian cast his own pole, this one shimmering with strong enchantments.

“Nah, it was my fault.”

They were quiet for a long moment, Tommy biting at the inside of his lip, before his curiosity won over his self-preservation. Something that happened with far too much frequency, given his track record.

“What’s the deal with the mountain?”

Grian blinked. “Oh! We’re all going to be terraforming it into a volcano! That’s why I was talking about explosions. There’s a lot of rock to get through so it’s easier to just set up a TNT dispenser frame and blow it up than to dig with pickaxes, y’know?”

Tommy swallowed at the idea of that much TNT and instead tried to focus on the other insane thing Grian said.

“You’re turning it into a volcano ?”

“Pretty cool, right?” Grian grinned mischievously. “Or should I say, pretty hot !”

Tommy wanted to shove him off the dock.

“Okay, right. So, what was with the shouting?”

Grian shrugged. “I got excited and wanted to invite Gem to go watch the detonation. Don’t worry, it’s already done. There might be a few more, but the bulk of it is finished. We even broke a hole into the void!”

Tommy choked, whipping his head to the far too casual man. “You fuckin what !”

“Swear jar,” Grian said absently. “Yeah! Not the first time we punched through bedrock into the void, only this time we have the added danger of lava!”

Tommy stared at the man for a long, long moment. The hybrid inquisition simply hummed cheerily, swinging his feet and grinning as he reeled in a cod and cast his line back out.

“... you’re fucking insane, you know that?”

“You have quite the mouth on you,” Grian returned mildly. “But I have been told that before, yes. If you ask me, insanity is the spice of life! What’s the fun if we’re all not a little crazy?”

Tommy, mind filled with manic, unseeing eyes, shouts, gunpowder, and withers, just whispered, “...safe?”

Grian cast him an unreadable side-eye. Then he reeled in his fishing rod, tucked it into his inventory, and pulled out a purple box instead. Tommy recognized it as one of the shulker-things Gem had.

“Here,” Grian said, tossing Tommy the box. The boy fumbled with it for a moment, but managed to both catch it and not drop his fishing pole. “An apology gift for yesterday. It was a really poor first impression, I know.”

Tommy stared down at the box, the precious box that only one person on his old server had and he had to be given it by a god . Tossed over like nothing, as though it was just something you usually tucked gifts into. Then he put it into his inventory and continued to stare at his bobber.

“Thanks…”

“Ah, it’s no problem. Besides, this way Gem won’t yell at me for not messaging first before coming over!” Grian laughed, but it didn’t have the same maniacal edge as the previous one did, and Tommy felt a smile curling onto his lips in response. The two sat there on the dock for a long while, watching as the sun rose and the kraken stretched a tentacle into the sky to playfully swat at the parrots.

“... hey, Tommy, right?”

Tommy squinted over at Grian, the man’s giddy tone and wide smile setting him on edge. “...yes?”

“How do you feel about pranks?”

For a moment, Tommy had the image of a burning house in his head. The thought was swiftly replaced with Gem complaining about someone leaving random cod heads around her base and switching out her ambience noises with questions about pickles. And a slow smile spread to his own lips.

“My good sir, you’ve come to the right person.”

Grian grinned .

Chapter Text

Ranboo was right to be worried, for anyone curious. 

Dream had apparently set up a bunch of targets of varying degrees of difficulty. After showing off his own prowess— Ranboo was not stupid enough to point out the few misses. Nope, no sir, he didn’t recall any of them, if his memory could do it’s thing and erase that from ranboo’s mind before the Admin erased him that would be great!--- Dream had tossed Ranboo and unenchanted bow and stack of arrows. He didn’t say anything, just crossed his arms and stared . Ranboo didn’t know why Dream wanted to see Ranboo’s bow skills, but he did, in fact, have self-preservation instincts, and did not question it. Instead, he just fumbled through a stuttering apology, an awkward smile, and set about firing at the targets.

So- so there was this fun fact about Ranboo. Ranboo had poor memory— that wasn’t the fun fact everyone knew that— but that was only in his head. It was only his head memory that was sucky. His muscle memory seemed really good. Because sometimes Ranboo would catch himself just… doing this really well? Like he’d been doing them his whole life? And- and maybe he had.

Now here’s, okay now here’s where it gets…odd? From an outsider perspective, anyway. Because Ranboo was really good at PVP. Ranboo would slip into fluid movements in a fight without them even noticing. They were good at PVP. But that made them nervous. So, Ranboo always tried to restrain that muscle memory, to land himself exactly in the middle of the pack in terms of PVP prowess on the server. Because if you were poor at PVP, you were a target, but if you were great at PVP, you were even more of a target. 

Especially to Dream.

So, despite their muscles screaming at them for a different position, Ranboo whiffed most of the shots they were certain they could make. Sometimes they missed the target entirely, but only on the really difficult ones. For the most part, they just hit the outer rings of the targets. And half of it wasn’t even on purpose! That was just the result of the sheer anxiety from Dream’s eyes on the back of their neck. Dream didn’t speak, and neither did Ranboo.

… this was so awkward…

There was a soft chime on Ranboo’s communicator that caused them to startle, wildly missing the latest target. Ranboo stammered for a moment, trying to say something— they’re really not sure what they were trying to say— and reached for their communicator. Then something in the air changed . An icy breeze rattled the spruce trees, and the stare that had been unyielding for so long left Ranboo’s back. Ranboo couldn’t help but take a moment to sigh in relief.

“Smajor,” Dream’s voice came, startling Ranboo fiercely. They couldn’t help casting a gaze over their shoulder. And they paused. There was… someone new? Ranboo thinks? Maybe? Certainly no one Ranboo had seen before. That- uh, that they could recall anyway…

The man was tall, which was saying something coming from Ranboo. He was probably only a few inches shorter than Ranboo, actually. His skin was a light but healthy peach. He had cyan blue hair that was swept to one side of his face, icy blue eyes glittering as they stared down at Dream. He had an… almost smirk? On his face? That was the best expression Ranboo could say, anyways. He had a jean jacket, sleeves rolled up to his elbows despite the snow on the ground, and as he walked towards Dream, his movements were fluid and graceful. The snow hardly crunched under his feet.

“Aiya,” he replied to Dream, waving a hand with a symmetrical smile. His eyes cut to Ranboo for just a moment.

Ranboo had never felt so much like prey in his entire life, he was certain. It was a bone-deep sort of feeling. It wasn’t the usual anxiousness eye contact tended to cause. No, he felt hunted - no, not even that. He felt insignificant , small, and yet pinned . Then Smajor’s eyes moved away, and Ranboo could breathe again.

The beautiful man— because he was beautiful, almost ethereal — swept over to Dream and pulled a letter from his inventory with a flourish. “It’s that time of the year. Here’s your invite.”

Dream took that letter and cracked it open without hesitation, seeming unbothered by the strange man’s sudden appearance. He didn’t even skim the letter. Instead, to Ranboo’s shock, he peeled off a glove, pricked his finger on his own axe, and swiped a streak of blood across the bottom of the letter, before snapping the glove back on and handing the letter back. Smajor took the letter with no shock at what had just happened, tucking it away. Then he folded his arms behind his back and scanned over the targets with an interested quirk of his lips.

“Wow,” he hummed, strolling over to Ranboo. He wasn’t even looking at them, and yet Ranboo’s neck prickled and his tail thrashed. Ranboo forcibly stilled the whip-like limb. Smajor gestured to the previously struck targets. “Interesting. Those yours?”

“What? Oh! O-oh, uh, yes! Those… those are my arrows!” Ranboo chuckled awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere but Smajor as the man’s eyes turned to Ranboo once more. “Thank you… sir?”

“Oh! Where are my manners!” the pretty man laughed easily, eyes squinting into crescents but never stopping his stare . “You may call me Smajor, he/him pronouns, please. May I have your name?”

Ranboo fumbled with their bow. “Uh- yes! Yes, of course! Sorry, uhm-” Ranboo jutted out their hand sharply, an awkward smile on their face. Scott had an amused one on his own. “My name is Ranboo, he/they.”

Smajor grinned widely, his pearly white teeth glinting in the afternoon sun. He took Ranboo’s hand and shook. “Lovely to meet you, Ranboo .”

Something- Ranboo didn’t even know how to describe what happened. Something inside them- at how Smajor said their name, it… settled? Emptied? Tugged? Ranboo didn’t know. It did something . And… oh… that was, this was kind of nice, actually. Scott was smiling warmly at them as he released their hand, his eyes glittering with amusement and… fondness?

And Ranboo… Ranboo didn’t feel so hunted anymore. Actually… this was kind of the safest he’d felt in… ever? Maybe? Despite Dream’s stare prickling into his back, Ranboo didn’t feel agitated by the eyes . Being under Smajor’s gaze… settled them.

This was nice.

“Don’t mind me,” Scott chuckled, gesturing to the targets. “Continue! I want to see your best, Ranboo .”

Ranboo’s spine straightened, and he let muscle memory take over, falling into a fluid stance. Dream’s presence wasn’t as cloying as it had been before. It faded to the background, overwhelmed by Smajor at Ranboo’s side. Who cared if Dream saw Ranboo’s prowess? Smajor was right next to them. Smajor wanted to see their best, wasn’t that so nice of him?

Ranboo hit a bullseye on each target. Smajor grinned widely.

“Wow!” He cheered, clapping. He beamed at Ranboo. “You did amazing , sweetie!”

Ranboo’s cheeks flushed and his shoulder slumped. He grinned, his tail lazily curling at the praise.

“Thank you!” Ranboo said, a sheepish smile on their face. “I- I really appreciate that.”

“ What ,” Dream hissed behind them. “What was that ?”

“Here,” Smajor said, ignoring Dream. Instead another letter was pulled from his inventory and handed to Ranboo “I can’t wait to see you at MCC.”

Ranboo froze, the name Smajor suddenly clicking into place in their scattered brain. “...what?”

Now, admittedly, Ranboo was originally a little fuzzy on what MCC was. But, between Tommy and Tubbo, who both watched reruns of it religiously and even had a few downloaded to their comms, they had a pretty good idea. MCC was the biggest event of the year. It was an annual competition consisting of eight different games. The event lasts for almost two weeks because of this. The games are always a test of a person’s skill in various areas, but mostly in PVP and Parkour, though there are a few racing games. The winning team of this game gets fame, a small fortune each, and— most recently— Permissions .

Permissions were something that can be applied to a person’s very code. It’s something that no server can take away. It’s always a very small ability, no one wins the Permission to apply cheats or anything like that, but nevertheless it’s something no one can take away. The most powerful Permission was awarded a few years ago. It really wasn’t anything huge, comparatively, as most servers allowed for elytra or for hybrids to use their features. But a few years ago, Philza had been invited to MCC. He had joined the Dream SMP by then, and Dream decided from the beginning that no one could fly. No exceptions. For his winning Permission, Philza requested that he always be able to use his wings and to fly, no matter that server rule. And the owner of MCC, Smajor , had granted it.

Dream had been, to put it lightly, furious . Especially when he realized that it wasn’t just a thing Smajor said he could do and then used his own weight as MCC owner to ask the owners of other servers to allow, because Dream never got a message from Smajor . And yet, when he and Philza returned from MCC, Philza’s wings had been full, unbound, and unharmed from previous explosion damage. And there was nothing Dream could do about it.

“ No ,” Dream seethed, storming over and reaching for the letter. Smajor flicked it easily out of the masked man’s grasp. “He’s not going.”

Smajor grinned widely at Dream, molars visible as he stared down at the shorter man.

“ Dream ,” Smajor cooed, and the Admin stiffened. “Do me a favor, sweetie? Go home, and forget about this conversation .”

Dream… walked away. Silently, without protest. Just straightened, turned on his heel, and walked away. Smajor turned his warm smile back to Ranboo, and any tension that had built left their shoulders at the kind expression. Yeah. What was Ranboo even worried about? It was just Smajor. There wasn’t anything to be worried about, Smajor was here. 

Ranboo took the letter.

“I- uhm… I don’t know if I can make it, I’ll be honest,” Ranboo said. He wrote down the date in his memory book, but he knew better than anyone that that wasn’t a guarantee to remember. Dates were especially hard to keep track of.

Smajor cocked his head, but didn’t stop smiling. “Why not?”

“Oh I- my memory isn’t great,” Ranboo said, shuffling their feet. “I want to go! It sounds fun. But, uh… dates are… hard…”

Smajor just blinked, and then chuckled. “No problem! Here.”

Smajor pulled something from his inventory and handed it to Ranboo. It… it was a pocket calendar? Ranboo didn’t protest as Smajor slipped Ranboo’s memory book from their limp fingers. He pasted the calendar to the inside, and took out a pen. He circled a date and wrote something on another. Then he handed it back.

“There. Today’s date is circled, and I put MCC’s date in as well.”

Ranboo stared at the calendar in his book. His eyes grew hot and stung. It was… it was such a small, simple gesture, and yet… it was one of the kindest things that had been given so easily.

“Thank you…”

“It’s nothing.” It was everything. “Just mark off the day before bed and you’ll be all good.”

Smajor put his hand on their shoulder. Ranboo met Smajor’s eyes. Smajor smiled kindly at him.

“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” Smajor assured, cupping Ranboo’s cheek. Ranboo almost slumped into the hold. “ Ranboo, dear, you won’t forget the date of MCC. I will see you there. ”

Ranboo slowly nodded, not registering anything but those pretty, inhumanly blue eyes. “I won’t forget the date. You’ll see me at MCC.”

Smajor smiled and patted their cheek. “Good.”

Then Smajor pulled away and began to leave. He tossed a wave over his shoulder. “Don’t forget to practice!”

With that last bit of advice, Smajor Left , Ranboo’s communicator chiming with the notification. Ranboo was left standing alone at the archery range, swaying with the phantom memory of a warm hand against their cheek. 

Chapter Text

Okay so Tommy had to admit, when Grian invited him to a prank, he was a little concerned. Especially after last time. And Grian’s… um… explosive reputation among Tommy’s old server-

…huh… when did he start thinking of the Dream SMP as his old server…? He uh… he should stop doing that. It’ll only make it harder when XisumaVoid inevitably sends him back…

Tommy shook himself roughly, ignoring the side-eye Grian gave him. Instead, he continued to dig out the small tunnel beneath the base they were pranking. It was a complex prank, to be sure, but… actually pretty harmless. Apparently on Hermitcraft, if you put mob heads on note blocks they made a sound that corresponded with the mob. Grian had the brilliant idea to place about fifteen ravager heads on note blocks beneath someone’s base.

Tommy didn’t know where or how Grian got fifteen ravager heads, and he frankly wasn’t about to question it. It was Hermitcraft, the people were weird.

Anyway, Tommy was digging the tunnel while Grian was rigging the note blocks. He was explaining— badly— what he was doing as he went along. Something about redstone leading to a sculk sensor. Whatever that was. Grian had shown the odd blue tendrils to Tommy. He still didn’t really know what they were aside from weird, but they made a cool noise when set off!

“Okay, that’s the last of it,” Grian called. “We just have to place the sensor, and we’ll be all good! Let’s head up!”

Tommy nodded and dutifully broke the surface. He and Grian hadn’t gone far, apparently Gem would ‘skin Grian alive’ if she found out Grian had squirreled Tommy away on a cross-server tour without her. Tommy was doubtful that Gem would ever actually skin someone, but Grian seemed haunted enough by the concept that he left it be. Instead, they were pranking someone else on Magical Mountain— Tommy still thought that was a stupid name, but who was he to judge the people who were hand-building their own volcano ? Anyway, the guy had some crazy terraforming and a magnificent train that had a menagerie of animals and habitats on the back.

His name was ‘Scar’ and despite that name, he was apparently quite easy to spook.

“Scar’s an easy target,” Grian said as he placed down the sculk sensors, “but he’s a reliable one. He always reacts, and it’s always funny. Besides that, he’s a pretty good sport and not nearly as liable to prank back unless it’s something huge. The ol’ ‘mob-heads-on-a-noteblock’ prank isn’t likely to start anything except for me finding a fish being slapped repeatedly in my house.”

Tommy very much did not want to know what that meant. He just nodded. He was about to say something about the prank when Grian’s comm went off. Loudly .

Grian squawked and fumbled with the device. It set off the sculk sensor, and the two pranksters were assaulted with the sounds of roaring ravagers on all sides. Having put them there, it wasn’t scary, but it was annoying , so the two scrambled away from the scene of their crimes.

“What was that ?” Tommy scrunched his nose as he caught his breath. Grian checked his comm and winced,

“Oooo… Gem’s back. She’s pretty mad I didn’t leave a note.”

Tommy paused. Blinked. Then he stared wide-eyed at Grian.

“You didn’t leave a note?”

“...no?”

“I thought you did! I would have left something in the mailbox if I knew!”

Grian looked bewildered. “Why’s this such a big deal?”

“Because I’m supposed to be meeting with your admin today, not dickin’ around!”

“Language,” Grian grumbled, before shrugging. “And it’s fine. X is willing to wait as long as it takes to meet you.”

Given the casualness of the statement, Tommy didn’t think Grian understood just how unnerving that statement was. There was an ever growing pit in Tommy's stomach. The idea of meeting XisumaVoid— the Admin— was possibly the most nerve-wracking thing he’d ever done or ever do again. One wrong move and XisumaVoid wouldn’t even have to ban him. Tommy was on his server, XisumaVoid could wipe him from the code of the universe if he really wanted to.

A possibility that only became more likely the longer he stalled.

Tommy followed Grian back to Gem’s, letting the man’s chatter wash over him but staying uncharacteristically quiet himself. What if he said the wrong thing? What if XisumaVoid decided he didn’t like Tommy? He would be far from the first person…

Tommy was at Gem’s door far sooner than he’d like. He raised his hand to the knob hesitantly, when the door flung open. Tommy flinched back, but relaxed soon after. Gem was standing in the doorway, arms crossed as she frowned at Grian.

“Do you know how worried I was?” Gem huffed. Her words weren’t even directed at him, but they made Tommy wilt. Gem had been so genuinely kind to him, the last thing he wanted was to make her worry. “X messaged me saying Tommy wasn’t here and there was not even a note left behind!”

“Sorry, Gem,” Tommy mumbled. Gem’s expression softened as she smiled at him. It made Tommy’s chest warm.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Tommy. I’m glad you had fun! Just leave a note next time, okay? Better yet, message me!” She beamed.

“But- I don’t have a comm?”

Gem grinned wider and took Tommy’s hand dragging him inside and pointedly slamming the door on Grian, who squawked behind the thick mangrove wood.

“X fixed up a comm for you! Surprise!”

Gem pulled him into the living room, before letting go of his hand to curl up in her favorite armchair. Across from the two of them, a man in a green suit shimmering with enchantments sat. His helmet was gray and his visor was purple and opaque. He couldn’t see the eyes behind it. The man was just sitting there casually, posture open and relaxed, yet his presence seemed to fill the room.

“Hello there,” the man greeted jovially even as Tommy’s chest tightened and his breathing stuttered. “It’s nice to meet you, my name is XisumaVoid. As I’m sure you know, I’m the Admin of Hermitcraft. Please, sit!”

Tommy collapsed into the chair next to Gem.

“Now, XisumaVoid is a bit formal,” the Admin chuckled, his visor devoid of emotion. “Feel free to call me Xisuma, or X, or really any variation of that!”

Then the Admin fell silent and his visor stared at Tommy. The silence stretched for a long moment, and even when trapped under Dream’s thumb Tommy had never felt as insignificantly small as he did just then. But he swallowed past his dry throat.

“Tommy. Er- TommyInnit.”

An unearthly blue screen materialized in front of the Admin, casting his helmet in eerie shadows.

“Good! Glad to see that’s accurate. With that confirmed, we’ve just got a few small things to set up,” XisumaVoid said, already weaving lines of code that Tommy couldn't even begin to understand. He pulled out a communicator. This one was far sleeker than the one Tommy had from the Dream SMP. XisumaVoid held it out. For a beat, Tommy just stared, his mind flashing to a much harsher green that only held out items for the sick satisfaction of taking and breaking them later. But Tommy knew from experience it was worse to outright refuse. So, with a trembling hand,he took the communicator, pulling his hand away as fast as he could get away with.

He could see Gem frown out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t dare look away from the Admin as he began to speak again.

“Right then, your comm is all set up, sooo, you should be good to go on that front.”

The screen disappeared from in front of the Admin. He folded his hands neatly in his lap and tilted his head. “How are you recovering? I know you were in a rough state when you first arrived.”

Tommy shuffled his feet and swallowed again, his fingers tapping a mindless pattern on his legs.

“Uh- I’m good! Thank you for letting me stay. Um… Gem’s says I’m almost recovered if I need to- to leave.” Tommy dutifully ignored how the concept of leaving the server left him with nothing but dread. As much as he feared XisumaVoid, he knew that there was no place safer than Hermitcraft. This place was a fortress, and Tommy had no doubt in his mind that if it weren’t for Gem, he would have been sent into the void between worlds without mercy.

XisumaVoid and Gem stared at him quietly for a long moment. In that moment, the room filled with pressure , the kind that made Tommy’s ears pop. The air around the Admin seemed to fuzz and warp and darken, and a primal instinct told him to freeze . If he ran, it would just draw more ire. Gem shot her Admin a stare and jerked her head towards Tommy. For some reason, this seemed to jolt the Admin to action. The pressure in the room dissipated in a moment, making Tommy’s ears pop once again.

“Oh! Right! Er- yes, about that-” the Admin said awkwardly. He sighed heavily. “Okay. Tommy, here’s the thing. You- when you got here, when Gem started treating you, I began to look through your code at a distance.” A screen appeared again, this time red and foreboding. It was filled with black and white lines that were clashed and knotted and glitched and torn . The whole thing was mangled . “This, Tommy, was your code when I first looked at it.”

Tommy stared, eyes wide and face pale. He may not understand code, not as Admins did, but even he could tell that this was the opposite of good.

“Calm down,” Xisuma soothed, the screen fading away. “I’ve got most of that straightened out. The knots are mostly just due to a lack of your codes keeping up with the recent updates. I’ve got most of it smoothed away and you’re set to Update soon. The rest of it seemed to have been intentional severing, but I’ve got most of that fixed up as well. There’s just one part of the code that I need to fix in proximity to you for ease and safety.”

His visor turned to Tommy. “I can fix this. It’s going to be okay.”

Tommy sucked in a deep, careful breath and released it slowly, like Gem taught him to.

“Okay. Alright, so, how long would that take, big man.”

XisumaVoid was very still as he answered, his body not even twitching. It was unnerving. “Well, Updates take a bit to settle, and with your code still recovering from the trauma done to it, there’s going to need to be a decent amount of time between Updates for your code to settle and regulate again.”

Tommy was very aware that wasn’t an answer.

“X,” Gem scolded, her warm voice soothing some of the tension in Tommy’s shoulders. “Stop being cagey!”

XisumaVoid nodded, the movement inhumanly fluid.

“Tommy, you won’t be leaving Hermitcraft for a few years.”

Tommy’s stomach dropped .

“..what?”

Chapter Text

“What do you mean I can’t leave Hermitcraft?!” Tommy raged. Because all he could do was rage. He couldn’t not be angry or else he would panic. And panic would make him too vulnerable to the threat in front of him.

XisumaVoid held up his hands, as though in surrender, though Tommy would be a fool to take it as that.

“Now, now, there’s no need to fret,” he soothed, and it only made Tommy angrier .

“No need- NO NEED TO FRET?” Tommy yelled, lunging to his feet. His breaths were short and fire-hot and his vision swam. “YOU JUST SAID I CAN’T LEAVE AND YOU’RE SAYING NOT TO FUCKIN FRET ?”

His ears rang, the echoes of fizzling TNT getting louder. 

“Yes,” XisumaVoid said easily, still relaxed on the couch before him. The Admin cocked his head in a sharp motion. 

“SO WHAT, I’M FUCKING TRAPPED HERE?!”

“Now, I never said that .”

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE THAT AS?!”

Tommy’s vision filled with orange and blue as Gem wedged herself between XisumaVoid and Tommy.

“Okay, okay!” she barked. “Tommy, put on some music, sit down, and relax. X, would you please explain ?”

Tommy grit his teeth hard enough for them to ache. But he stormed off to the corner of the house where the jukebox sat and dutifully put Cat on. Then he slumped back down into his seat. XisumaVoid was rubbing the back of his neck, as though embarrassed. Gem loomed above him, an unimpressed look on her face and her arms crossed.

“I swear, where’s Skizz and Impulse when you need them,” she grumbled. “X, either you actually explain what you mean to Tommy, or I’m adding your head as decoration to my beach in front of the skull.”

Tommy startled at her words. Yes, Tommy was angry, and he had yelled. His fists were still shaking from anger and terror because he had just yelled at the Admin . And yet, here Gem was, casually threatening to decapitate him?

And XisumaVoid seemed fine with it?

“Yes, right,” XisumaVoid coughed. “Okay.” The Admin turned back to Tommy and relaxed his body again. “Tommy, it’s not forever . Not if you don’t want it to be. But like I said, Updates will take time . You need at least a month for an Update to regulate before you can move onto the next one. Luckily, you don’t have very many to catch up on so far, but it will still take time to regulate and settle. Honestly, a month is if you’re pushing it. It’s better to wait two. When you’re regulating after an Update, it’s not advised to travel between servers as it can damage your code. And since your code is still healing , you really shouldn’t be server-hopping because it could seriously tear your code again.”

XisumaVoid pulled up the blue Admin screen again. He pointed at the shredded section of code.

“You see this?”

Tommy eyed the Admin warily. “...yes?”

“This is another reason why you can’t go server-hopping anytime soon. See, you’ve already regulated to the next Update up from your old server, so you’re on 1.17 now. Since it’s been a month, I’ve begun your Update to 1.18. This means you’re making good time. But you’ll notice you still feel dizzy and weak.”

Tommy nodded hesitantly. 

“That’s because of the back-to-back regulations. This part of your code is especially worrying.” XisumaVoid indicated the shredded code. “This, Tommy, is your hybrid status.”

Tommy froze. The room was silent except for the soothing notes of Cat.

“But… I’m not a hybrid…”

Gem gave him a sympathetic look. XisumaVoid’s mask was as impassive as ever. 

“Yet, you have the code-strand for it.”

Tommy opened his mouth to say something. It would have shown by now! Or I would have known if I was a fuckn hybrid!

And yet, there the code-strand was. And it was shredded.

Purposefully.

Tommy shuddered, the phantom-memory of lime green invading his mind’s eye. 

“I think you have some ideas on how this happened, Tommy,” XisumaVoid murmured into the silent room. “At your old server, perhaps.” It wasn’t a question, but there was the expectation of an answer. Terror seized Tommy’s heart in the same vice-like grip that often preceded him getting shoved towards a crater, TNT in his hands. His throat closed and Tommy stared with an ashen face back at the Admin.

The air around XisumaVoid warped slowly, steadily bending more and more of the space around him like the slow-crawl of molasses. Gem did not stop him. Instead, her features steadily began to fuzz.

“Thank you for your answer, Tommy,” XisumaVoid said kindly, despite Tommy having not said anything at all. The Admin leaned back and a low, hissing breath rattled through his mask as the air steadied again.

“Now then, I’ll be fixing this first. The longer it goes untreated, the worse it will be,” XisumaVoid said, closing the Admin screen once more. “Depending on how strong the features, it will take anywhere from a day to a week to fully manifest. From there, it will take a month or so for you to get used to your more prominent features. We have a server filled with people who will be happy to help. Don’t be afraid to contact us if you need it.”

XisumaVoid stood fluidly and started towards the door. But before he left, he came to a stop by Tommy. Tommy, frozen in place under the blank stare of the Admin’s mask, didn’t move an inch when his hand came down and gently squeezed his shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. You’re welcome to be here for as long as you wish once the Updates settle. You’re one of my Players now.”

Then he pulled away, the cold pressure leaving with him.

“Rest well!” he called back chipperly, before taking off with his elytra. Tommy remained curled up and staring at the couch where he used to be for a long moment. 

Gem put on Otherside. Slowly, he began to relax again. She sat down next to him and set out his knitting supplies on the coffee table. Then she began to read silently next to him. He appreciated the token of normalcy.

Tommy began to knit.

Elsewhere, purple eyes stare up at the moon, unseeing. The black-and-white hybrid swayed in place like a marionette on its strings. The green strings surrounding its neck and wrists continued to tug demandingly. Around their torso and joints, shimmering blue-gold-purple-blue- strings wove together. The ropes of strings held them in place. And slowly, one by one, these shimmering strings wound up their arms and legs and neck and began to snip the green strings.

Ranboo, eyes purple and unfocused, swayed in place for a long moment. Their breath fogged the air. Beside them, black wings rustled and gently draped over their shoulders.

“C’mon, mate, let’s get you inside,” Philza whispered, leading the marionette back into their home. The marionette sat as it was bade. While Philza bustled around in the kitchen, the marionette stared sightlessly into the roaring hearth. Around their neck, the green snapped and the blue-gold-purple-blue-gold- gently wove in place before shimmering once again and seeping into their skin.

Ranboo shuddered. Philza tutted and pulled a blanket around their shoulders, gently scolding them for standing out in the snow for so long without a coat. And yet, they had never felt so warm.

Don’t forget, Ranboo , that soothing voice whispered in their mind. Ranboo blinked, and their eyes were red and green as always. They stood, startling the avian next to them.

“Sorry,” Ranboo said awkwardly, handing the blanket back. “Thanks for the help, I need to go practice!”

Ranboo darted out the door, Philza calling after them to put on their coat, but his words were lost in the wind. Regardless, Ranboo didn’t feel cold.

They hadn’t felt the cold at all since they met Smajor.

Chapter Text

“Well hello there!” 

Tommy startled at the voice, gnarly fumbling his fishing rod into the river.

It had been two days since Xisuma had delivered the news on Tommy’s code. He was still reeling, to be completely honest. The idea of being a hybrid was something of a shock to him. Despite there being many, many hybrids on the server, Dream had not really liked the idea of hybrids. Tommy thought he had some sort of superiority complex or prejudice. Which didn’t really make sense since, according to Tubbo, almost 60% of the population of all the Servers in existence were hybrids, and growing. 

Oh, Tubbo…

Anyway, there was a man wheeling himself towards Tommy. He had a friendly smile on his face and a cool wheelchair that looked way more mechanical than he’d ever seen a wheelchair be. He was also dressed like some kind of safari guide, fedora and all. He also was covered in scars. Blast burns, arrows, sword slashes, even bite marks. And yet still, he smiled kindly.

“So, you’re our new prankster!” he said jovially, seeming completely unbothered. Tommy frowned.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, big man,” Tommy said, absently reeling in his line. The man just laughed.

“Oh? So about fifteen ravager heads on note blocks doesn’t ring a bell?”

Tommy froze. He turned back. The man was still grinning, no hostility present, only amusement.

“... who are you again?”

“Why, I’m Scar! Scar Goodtimes! An entrepreneur and the conductor of that lovely train over there!” the man said, pointing to the same amazingly terraformed section of the mountain. Tommy’s stomach dropped. His grip turned vice-like on his fishing rod.

“...oh. Er, nice to meet you, big man!” Tommy said with a wide, winning smile. Scar burst into laughter.

“Now there’s a smile!” Scar beamed. “Could have fooled me! You know, if you ever want a job, I’d be happy to teach you the ropes of sales!”

Tommy, about to stand up, paused.

“I’m sorry… sales ?”

“Of course, of course! I’m a businessman, you know! The art of sales is important for any salesman! I can give you a demonstration, if you’d like!”

Tommy… thought it over. He’d pranked the man before, but he didn’t seem bothered at all. In fact, he seemed almost endeared by it, which was weird. Then again, all the Hermits Tommy had met were weird. 

… well, it wasn’t like he had anything planned. He’d stopped feeling loopy from the 1.18 Update, but his back was still aching. Still, Gem had given him the go-ahead to start doing more things as long as he stayed away from too heavy lifting.

“You know what? Sure. But uh… I don’t have any fancy wings, big man.”

“Not a problem! Pearl lives just across thataway,” Scar said, gesturing with a flourish to the other, smaller cherry hill in the distance. “It’s not a long trip. And on the way, I can teach you some tips before you see them in action.”

Tommy drummed his fingers on his leg.

“Alright, fine,” he said.

“Excellent! This way, this way,” Scar ushered, spinning his wheelchair around with expertise. “Now, the first thing any good salesman needs to master is the art of smooth-talk-”

TommyInnit: Scar’s taking me on a trip to Pearl I think he said

GeminiTay: Fun! Tell Pearl and Scar I said hi!

Gem waved at Tommy from the top of the observatory she was building. Tommy waved back, following after Scar. Some of the tips he was sharing sounded… familiar. Not to anything he’d been taught necessarily, but to things he’d discovered.

“-and remember, Tommy, the most important thing is this: everything has value, it all depends on what you assign it,” Scar lectured as they traveled across the bridge between Gem and Skizz’s areas. “For example, I used to have these power crystals. The crystal of fast-talk and silvertongue. Great tools to get you out of any situation! The crystal of protection that could save you from any weapons.”

“And did they work?” Tommy asked curiously.

“Of course, of course! I imbued them with magic, just as promised!” Scar glanced around, stopping his wheelchair. He waved his hand closer. Tommy leaned down as Scar spoke to him in a low tone. “Now, how much magic I put in there is up for debate. The crystal of protection could maybe take a few small hits and half the damage of a large one. The silver tongue and fast-talk couldn’t really do much but make you speak a little faster.”

Scar leaned back and grinned widely, his eyes flashing almost unnaturally, but not in a way that set Tommy on edge, oddly. “You see, I was playing this death game, where if you ran out of lives you were kicked from the server.” Tommy shuddered at how familiar that sounded. It was… almost exactly like the Dream SMP… “There, we could trade lives, gives someone one of your lives.”

Scar’s eyes were feral. “I got myself a few lives for those pieces of glass.”

Tommy stared wide eyed.

“No way…” he breathed. The idea of the Dream SMP-like situation filled his gut with rocks, but… he was enraptured by Scar’s story. “Are you serious?”

“Just renamed pieces of glass with a few drops of magic. Not everyone bought in, of course, but I could sucker— excuse me, entice — a few people into it.”

Tommy watched the man in awe as he merrily rolled away. And Tommy grinned .

Okay. This would be fun .

“‘Ello, X!” a voice greeted. Xisuma looked away from the threads that he’d found tangled around Tommy’s code. 

“Hey, Scott,” Xisuma returned. “Here for MCC?”

“It is that time of year,” Scott said, waving his invitations. He peered around Xisuma’s shoulders, cocking his head. “Who’s that?”

“No one you can take,” Xisuma said mildly. Scott pouted, the magic snapping away from him.

“Aww, come on! Won’t even let me try?”

Xisuma rolled his eyes fondly. “ No , Scott. Sorry, normally I’d let you mess around a little, like Gem, but…” Xisuma sighed, picking away at the slivers of code, so small they were like marionette strings but a sickly lime green. “He’s had a rough go.”

Xisuma held up a strand. Scott’s eyes pinned to it with a single-minded focus. Xisuma fluidly tilted his head, careful to not let it bend too far. “Recognize it?”

“May I?” Scott asked, holding out a hand. Xisuma wordlessly held out the strand. Scott took it and inspected it. “Yes. This was tangled around one of Mine. Lots and lots of them, like a puppet on a string. And crudely wrapped, too. Probably was painful for them.” Scott tsked, annoyed, and burned it away with starlight with no remorse.

“Where from?” Xisuma asked in a carefully measured tone. Scott pursed his lips and eyed Xisuma with a calculating gaze.

“... tell you what. Tell me the name of who you found this on first and I’ll share. I won’t steal it, yet.”

Xisuma scoffed at the ‘yet’. Always a way out with Scott. It was funny, really.

“Tommy.”

Scott blinked slowly, before a soft, sweet smile spread across his face. “Tommy, hm? Not TommyInnit?”

There wasn’t any power behind the name, but it still made Xisuma tense.

“...yes?”

“I have an invitation to MCC for him, if he accepts.”

Xisuma gave a short laugh. “Even if he did accept, you wouldn’t get his Name through that.” Xisuma sobered slightly. “Besides, he can’t world hop for a while. His code… you saw it.”

“I did,” Scott replied, still serene. “But there’s a way to mitigate that. Give me his Name, and I can protect him from code damage.”

“No,” Xisuma said immediately, the world slowly warping around him. “Absolutely not, S̴̡̨̧̨̰̣̘̤͔̗̬̩̠͑͂́c̴̡̼̲͚̠̤̲̥̭̪̜̭͔̬͌o̷̧̨̢̜̲̻͉̖̞̞̥͊̈́̿̿̒͆͗̐͝t̶̨͔͉͓̮͖̳̪̦̩̽̔͋ͅt̶̞̯̰̫̤͒̄̓̒̒̕̚̕̕ͅ ̷̙̻̙̩͕̗̎͗̔̔͛̔͊Ş̶̛̖̻̹̱̼̫̜̎̆̒̆̀̈́̐̑̆͝m̸̧͔̝͖̜̺͙̄̂̓̑̃̽a̶̛̠͔̖̥̖̫̫̼̭̹̰̐͂̍̑͊̈̽͜ͅj̷̨̛̻̯̘̟̳̲̞̒̍̆̊̀̈́̌̐̓͋͋̇̐͘͜o̸̜͛̿́̇̚r̷̨̘̦̩̖͓̻͐͋̉̑̏̋̿͒̊̆́̆̈̀̚ .”

Scott shuddered at the sound of his Name, but held his ground admirably.

“Hear me out,” he said soothingly. Around Xisuma, void slowly began crackling through the folds of his world. Still, he stayed silent. “I’m not asking for it permanently. Think of it as… shared custody. Just for MCC, to protect his code from damage.”

Xisuma’s head snapped to the side in an unnatural, jerky tilt. “Why?”

Scott sighed, smile dropping along with the allure. “My new person, the one who had the same strands? That’s Ranboo .”

Across worlds, a teen froze in his sword movements, jerky from instinctively holding back. He relaxed, tension leaving him in a whoosh . Snow fell around him, but nothing melted on his skin and no cold seeped through their casual wear. They spun the sword expertly and slipped back into muscle memory.

“They’re a good kid,” Scott continued, the void slowly seeping away as curiosity took hold in the Admin. “They’re friends with Tommy. It’s been a while since they’ve seen him, even before Tommy’s escape to Hermitcraft. He misses his friend and he’s growing more and more stressed on their shared SMP. He’ll be coming to MCC. I want him to relax some more. Besides, it would be good for Tommy to see his old friend, hm?”

Xisuma’s oppressing anger slowly faded, the world settling back around him. He thought for a few long moments, before sighing.

“Fine,” he said. “You may have Tommy’s Name, but only for MCC and only as a lesser claim. You may not have it fully, just enough to keep his code safe from the world hop.”

Scott beamed, stars around his head sparkling to life, radiating a hypnotic beauty. His pearly white teeth were shown almost to the molars. He held out a hand, repeating the conditions perfectly, no attempt at loopholes. Xisuma shook his hand.

“See you in a month!” Scott said chipperly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Xisuma scoffed fondly, turning back to Tommy’s code to burn away the remaining strings. “Go make your rounds.” He paused. “Wait.”

Scott turned back.

“Your deal. What was the name.”

Scott grinned ferally. “ Dream .”

Across serves, a man’s knees buckled, fumbling the axe from his hand. He shuddered under the knowing the was pressing down on him like an anvil. He gasped for air.

Xisuma, peering through the void, grinned back under his mask, body forming multiple sets of teeth.

“Oh! Well, that makes this easier, now doesn’t it?” he said cheerfully. 

“Want in, then?”

“As if that’s even a question. Save me a spot.”

Scott skipped off. Xisuma settled back into his chair, sipping his tea, much happier now that he had a Name to the crimes .

Chapter Text

As promised, Pearl did not live very far away. She was just across the river with a sprawling, solarpunk (whatever that was) themed base. Tommy had never seen beacons used that way, each one humming on a post, occasionally pulsing energy that seemed to seep into the crops below. The base had lots of round edges and bright colors and reds. Despite being enclosed, it had a warm and airy feel to it, with a constant faint smell of petrichor that the beacons seemed to emit. 

Scar ushered Tommy to a nearby building. The walls were red mangrove wood while the roof was teal, with dark prismarine and warped wood. On the top was a stone structure with an antenna similar to Gem’s castle. Scar swung open the doors, flicking a few of the trapdoor windows as he went. There was an incomprehensible shout of annoyance from further in the building. 

A woman emerged from one of the rooms as Tommy and Scar strolled in. She was wearing a white mail courier uniform that Tommy hadn’t seen since he was young and living in one of the Hub servers. She had a stuffed mailbag that appeared ready to burst at the seams strapped across her. She had an exasperated, but fond, smile on her face, her brown hair tugged into a low ponytail and her black and white wings tucked neatly behind her. Unlike Grian, who’s parrot features stretched to his taloned feet, her own legs were human from what Tommy could see.

“Well hello, Pearl!” Scar greeted jovially. “Lovely day, isn’t it!”

“It was until you messed with my windows,” Pearl snorted, crossing her arms. “And who’s this, then?”

Tommy, who had been admiring the interior intently, snapped back to attention. “I’m big man Tommy Danger Kraken Innit, obviously.”

Pearl hardly even blinked before laughing. “That’s almost as bad as Skizz’s dog’s name!”

“ OI! ”

Pearl just chuckled. “Nice to meet ya, mate.” Tommy steadfastly shoved down the twitch the word caused. “I’m Pearlescent Moon. Call me Pearl! I’m the master postman of this server. I know you’ve been sharing a mailbox with Gem, but I’ve gotten you your own complimentary stamp bundle.”

She pulled out a brown sack as she walked over. Tommy’s brows furrowed.

“Wait, for free?”

“That is what complimentary means,” Pearl replied with clear amusement. “Everyone who got their mailbox set up also got a complimentary stamp set. Even if you’re sharing Gem’s, you still meet the criteria for your own bundle.”

“Speaking of criteria,” Scar chimed as Tommy tucked the bundle into his inventory, “my good friend Tommy and I have the deal of the week just for you!”

Pearl gave Scar a knowing look, and Tommy was almost certain they wouldn’t be getting anything. 

“Yeah?” she said, leaning back on her heels. “Okay, and just what is this ‘deal of the week’? Rather low standards, eh?”

“Well, a salesman always strives to improve his products for his customers!” Scar replied easily. “I wouldn’t want to give you something wondrous now, only to fall short of your expectations later! If I gave you the deal of the century now you’d never wat what could be just as good a deal tomorrow!”

Pearl nodded along, but she still very clearly wasn’t convinced. “Uhuh.” 

“Well, Tommy?” Scar beamed. “Show our dearest customer what’s on the market!”

Tommy shuffled his feet, hunching his shoulders slightly. “Well-” he cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders back stiffly and giving a crooked smile. “Well! We er- we have-”

Tommy reached into his inventory as Pearl visibly softened at his flustering. He tamped down a much wider grin. Hook .

He pulled out a well-polished if slightly scuffed spyglass. Pearl’s eye’s zeroed in on the shiny copper, her pupils dilating. “We have this spyglass! As a postmaster, it’d be great to, y’know, have a way to look out for your landing area! Make sure all is well and that no one’s messed with the mail systems.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Scar, who gave him a cheerful thumbs-up. “This is a one-of-a-kind spyglass, of course!”

“Oh?” Pearl questioned, pulling her eyes away from the shiny object, her magpie wings that Tommy had clocked upon entering smoothing over from being fluffed up. “How so?”

“Well, I’ll have you know, this is the first spyglass I had on this server!” Line .

Pearl’s face softened yet again, her eyes darting between his wobbling smile and the shiny spyglass. 

“And, what are you looking for in return?” she asked. “This is a deal, after all.”

“Oh- right, erm- maybe a… mail… bag? Like the one you have! Or, or maybe a post hat?” Tommy asked eagerly. Pearl chuckled.

“Alright, y’know what? Sure!” She walked over to the wall and pulled off the only spare mailbag, handing it over. She then removed her hat and handed him that as well. Sinker . Tommy grinned and strapped the bag on, admiring the clear quality. “Well thank- hang on-”

Pearl’s soft smile dropped, pulling her hand away from the fish slime and redstone dust that was no doubt on the spyglass. She flipped it over. The lens one looked through was missing, and Grian’s messy scrawl was whittled into the side. Pearl’s head snapped back up.

“No refunds,” Tommy said with a winning smile, adjusting his new hat. Scar cracked up next to him.

“ Wha- Hey!” Pearl gaped. She blinked for a moment, before she, too, burst into laughter. “I can’t believe this is the first time I meet you and you scam me!”

Tommy shrugged innocently. “‘S just business, ey?”

Pearl cackled, leaning against the table behind her. Tommy shifted, adjusting his stance to try and alleviate the ache of his back.

Tommy had noted she was a magpie as soon as he walked in. Back when he was younger, when he’d thought hoped Phil was his dad, like Wilbur, he’d gone through a phase of looking up all kinds of birds. Wilbur had teased him that if he wasn’t a raccoon, he could be a magpie.

“Well,” Pearl said after she calmed down, rolling her eyes. “A deal’s a deal.”

“Thanks,” Tommy said, eyes darting away. He didn’t say what he was thanking her for. She didn’t ask. “This base is nuts, by the way.”

“Aww, thanks! You wanna see the sniffers?”

“The fuck’s a sniffer?”

Pearl gasped, grasping her shirt as though she’d been shot in the chest. “You mean… Gem hasn’t shown you sniffers ?”

“No. What are they?”

Pearl released her shirt. “They’re kinda like giant cows that can dig up ancient flowers.”

Tommy stopped fiddling with the mailbag, eyes wide.

“They’re what ?”

“I don’t think we’re gonna get him out of there,” Pearl said, watching as Tommy laughed and cooed over the baby sniffers. He giggled when one of the adult sniffers nuzzled his head, getting flower petals all over him.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Scar agreed. The two watched as Tommy made no protest to being gently shoved over and falling onto the fluffy side of a sniffer. He was then bracketed by another adult sniffer, with a few calves draped over his lap. 

“Yeah, no, he’s not gettin out of that one,” Pearl mused knowingly. The sniffer pod had decided it was naptime. “I’ll text Gem.”

Chapter Text

Pearl was one of the best people Tommy had ever met, second only to Gem. Not only was she not mad when he scammed her of her mailbag— she seemed rather charmed, actually— but she’d also given him a wonderful and precious treasure to carry back home. Tommy spent the walk back home talking with Scar and smiling softly at the red and teal egg in his arms. A sniffer egg, apparently, so that he could raise his own.

“What’re you gonna name it?” Scar asked curiously as they crossed over the bridge. The kraken lazily stretched a tentacle out of the water nearby, playing around with the wreckage of an empty building Gem had built for them to play with. Tommy pondered Scar’s question intently, pursing his lips and inspecting the egg. After a few beats of silence, he smiled.

“Clementine,” he said softly.

“That’s perfect!” Scar beamed. “An excellent name!” Scar pivoted his wheelchair sharply. “Well, I outta get home. The train needs some looking over. See ya around!”

“Bye!” 

Scar pulled a lever and with a string of whistles and bells, a glider-esque elytra unfolded from his wheelchair before an empty firework sent him soaring off into the air, his 'goodbyyyye!' trailing behind him. Tommy hardly flinched and couldn’t help the toothy grin at his continued desensitization to fireworks. He tucked Clementine’s egg safely away into his inventory and made his way over to where Gem was terraforming around the base of her castle-observatory. 

Tommy paused as he rounded the path. He could see Gem in the distance, chatting away with someone he didn’t recognize. Maybe a new Hermit? He continued down the path, gaining his si- friend’s attention. 

“Oh, Tommy! Hey!” she greeted cheerfully, waving. The blue haired man in front of her turned, an easy-going smile on his face. That was when Tommy froze in his steps. Gem didn’t seem to notice as he skipped over to meet him halfway. Meanwhile, Smajor— fucking Smajor — strolled over as well.

“Aiya,” he greeted placidly. 

“Er- hi?” Tommy stumbled. 

Tommy had known MCC was approaching, of course, he watched it religiously. It was a week long and the best event of the year! Obviously he recognized Smajor, the host! But- well, it hadn’t really occurred to him that he could run into Smajor. Tommy knew a few Hermits would get invitations, of course, but it never clocked that he could meet the man himself.

But, it wasn’t just him being starstruck that made him stumble. Because Smajor was the host of MCC. The same MCC that Dream would no doubt be participating in as he had the past few years. Smajor now knew where Tommy was. Who’s to say he won’t tell Dream?

“I’m glad I ran into you, actually,” Smajor said, the air around his hands fuzzing to show he reached into his inventory. “Saves me time. Here.”

He held out an envelope, the same one that Gem was holding. MCC’s coin symbol was emblazoned on the seal. Tommy’s brain took a few minutes to reboot, before he was sputtering, eyes wide.

“What the- me? Holy shit- Oh my fuck-” he exclaimed. Gem and Smajor chuckled as he freaked out, before he paused. “Wait, but… I can’t leave the server. My code-”

“Oh,” Smajor cuts him off easily, the same placid smile unbroken. “Don’t worry, X and I took care of that.”

Tommy frowned. That… that didn’t make sense. Gem looked between Tommy and Scott before rolling her eyes.

“Oh my void you’re all hopeless,” Gem groaned with clear exasperation. “Seriously, what would you guys do without me? Where’s Impulse when you need him…” She turned to Tommy. “Tommy, do you want to go to MCC?”

“I mean, yeah? Obviously?”

“Sign the invite.”

Tommy hesitated, but ultimately he trusted Gem, so he did so. As soon as the pen provided left the paper, he felt an odd snag in his chest. 

“The fuck-”

“Thank you !” Smajor beamed with too many teeth, the invitation snagged from Tommy’s hand and tucked into Smajor’s inventory. “I’m off, bye !”

Smajor turned on his heel and vanished in a cloud of cold mist.

“WHAT THE-”

“C’mon, you should sit down and drink some cocoa,” Gem sighed, rubbing her temples as she walked towards their house.

“What was that?” Tommy asked incredulously, dutifully trailing behind her.

“Scott got temporary teleportation permits while he’s on the server. Makes delivering invites easier,” Gem shrugged. “Feel free to call him Scott, by the way.”

“Uh- okay… what was the invite thing about? And I thought I couldn’t leave the server for a while.”

“Normally, yes, you wouldn’t be able to,” Gem said, kicking off her boots and shrugging off her elytra, hanging it in the doorway. She shuffled off to the kitchen and began to make hot cocoa. Tommy slid into one of the stools at the bar. “Alright, I’ll start my explanation with Scott. Scott is a fae, are you familiar?”

Tommy’s brow furrowed. “... maybe? I mean, I’ve heard of fairies, but…”

“Wrong kind,” Gem said simply. “Fairies were based upon the fae, but they’re not quite the same. Fae are beings of nature. There are many kinds of fae and many subspecies. ‘Fae’ is the overarching term for the species as a whole, but it’s also the ‘main branch’ so to speak. The older the fae, the more powerful the fae. Fae also take people’s Names. When they take your name, by asking you a variation of ‘may I have your name’ usually, they’re taking your power and life. They gain dominion over you and are able to influence you. This, in turn, grows their power. The more Names a fae has, the more power they have.”

Gem poured the hot cocoa and sat next to him, gently blowing away the steam as she stirred her own mug with a peppermint stick. “Scott is a very old, very powerful fae. I don’t remember exactly, but I know he was created rather than born. Instead of being born to two fae parents or inheriting fae genes and being a hybrid, Scott was born of… I think he said stardust and the ice that forms from the vacuum of space? I don’t remember exactly.

“Anyway, when a fae get’s dominion over you they can pretty much do whatever. They can cause you to have hallucinations, or to give you bad or good luck, or even give you Permissions. Scott, clever man he is, didn’t make MCC out of nowhere. He does genuinely like hosting events and it’s just as much fun for him to participate in the games as it is for everyone else, but it started as a way for him to get Names, and it’s also why he can give people Permissions when they win. Anytime someone signs their invitation and RSVPs, they’re also giving Scott their Name. While people who are older or more powerful can shake off the compulsion— like X, for example— Scott’s crafty. Some people trade their name and some of their life to him so that they can get Permissions. Like Philza a year or so ago.”

Tommy stared wide eyed at Gem, absentmindedly sipping his cocoa. 

“Now, if you have an Admin who is more powerful, the Admin can also override a fae’s compulsion even if the fae has the Player’s name. For example, Scott can’t have domain over any of the Hermits despite a lot of us having been invited to MCC in the past. Xisuma forbade him from doing so. However , it is possible for fae to have partial domain over someone. Like shared custody!”

Gem gave him a reassuring smile. “In order for you to pass between servers, you need to have protection over your code to survive the world hops. Xisuma doesn’t have other server’s he’s the Admin of, so he wouldn’t be able to protect your code. But, if Scott is given permission for that shared custody, he could protect your code and make it so that you could transfer servers safely! That’s the deal he and X made— I asked. Scott is allowed partial and lesser dominion over you for the duration of MCC and only the duration of MCC, so that you can make it there and back safely, and if anything goes wrong during the games, Scott can help you.”

Tommy sat in silence while Gem let him digest that. He set his empty mug on the counter and slid to the floor. The cool wood felt nice against his aching back. Though, it did feel like there were lumps in the wood. He’d have to sand those down later.

“Okay, so, Scott… owns me?”

“Not really,” Gem shook her head. “Like I told you, he has lesser domain. That means that X is the one still in charge. Essentially, if Scott compelled you to obey, it would have to be approved by X first, and he’s not interested in that.”

“But still. Scott has my Name… and he has control over me?”

“If it makes you feel better, I do it to the other Hermits all the time!” Gem said cheerfully, slurping her hot cocoa. Tommy blinked slowly at the ceiling. Then he blinked again, brows furrowing. He turned his head.

“What?”

“I didn’t tell you? I’m a changeling! It’s why I fuzz sometimes around the edges. I chose a water dragon appearance this season, but I was an elven druid last season and a deer hybrid the season before that!”

Tommy stared at her blankly. He had noticed that she seemed to have less or more scales sometimes, but he’d thought it was just him remembering wrong.

“The fuck’s a changeling?”

“Oh, it’s basically a shapeshifter!” Gem smiled, happy to lecture again. “Changelings are a branch of fae! Not as powerful as pure fae, though. We’re either born or we’re made, but we’re not made by like… cosmic dust or whatever like Scott. Some of us are carved from wood if we’re not born. Oftentimes we get swapped with other babies when we’re very, very young by older fae. Some people don’t notice we’ve been swapped, others figure it out right away. Some people trade us back for their children, others keep us instead. A few people will leave both us and our twin we were swapped with, while some very clever and kind people will swindle both us and our twin from the fae who swapped us.”

Tommy just stared in vague horror.

“I was found out pretty quick, apparently. Instead of being bargained with, though, I was just kinda dropped off in the woods. I bounced around a few Hub worlds for a while before I was found by an older fae and brought back to the fae realm. I met Scott there, actually! It was cool, he taught me a lot before we parted ways,” Gem said with a fond smile, as though any of that was even remotely okay.

“Anyway, it’s not just changelings! Vexes and allays are also a form of fae! They’re just a couple branches down in the genealogical tree, the same with vex and allay hybrids. They’re cousin species of a sort. Neither vexes nor allays can take people’s names, but they have their own magic because of the fae ancestry.”

Tommy nodded slowly. “Right. Cool.”

Tommy and Gem sat in silence— aside from the disc slowly spinning in the jukebox— for a while. After about an hour of lying uncomfortably on his back, Tommy had finally digested the information he was given. He found it settled in his mind fairly easily once he was given the chance to process. The universe was already weird enough, why not this, too? Besides, there was a way more interesting part to all of this.

“Did you say you’d taken the Names of the Hermits multiple times?” Tommy asked, sitting up. Gem beamed at him.

“Oh, for sure! X thinks it’s funny and lets me snag their Names for a little bit. I always give them back, of course, I personally have no interest in collecting Names,” Gem giggled. “I think I’ve taken Tango’s Name… like five times? This season alone.”

Tommy snorted. “He doesn’t learn?”

“Not really,” Gem shrugged, before grinning impishly at him, her green eyes bright. “Wanna see me do it and watch him be annoyed when he realizes he’s been duped yet again?”

“Oh, fuck yeah I do!”

Chapter Text

Tommy woke to his back on fire. In the dark of the morning before the sun rose, he rolled off his bed, landing with a harsh thud as he tried to escape the pain. His eyes were screwed up, his jaw clenched shut to keep from making any noise and risk waking Gem. Not that that seemed to be up to him.

“Tommy?” she heard her concerned voice call through the door. She knocked. “Are you okay? I thought I heard something fall.”

Damnit. Of course. Gem always got up before sunrise to do some early morning fishing to relax before she continued with her day. He should have known she'd be wide awake and any noise would catch her attention. He didn’t wrench open his clenched jaw. That would only let him scream, and he knew that would just cause more concern. Gem knocked again. Tommy curled in on himself, the pain spreading across his back down to his tailbone, though it remained the worst by his shoulder blades. 

“Tommy,” Gem called sternly, “I’ve respected your privacy by knocking first, but I’m asserting my concern as your technical-doctor by coming in anyway.”

She twisted the knob sharply. Tommy had stopped locking the door after the second month. She shoved the slightly ill-fitting door open and gasped at the sight of Tommy shuddering on the ground. His body flashed boiling hot then icy cold over and over again in rapid succession. His vision swam and his stomach churned.

“Tommy!”

Gem propped him up and he choked on his own tongue. His stomach rolled, and he screamed.

He blacked out.

It was kinda like when he was recovering from Exile. He was in and out of consciousness at random intervals. Each moment of lucidity had Gem in it. Sometimes, Xisuma was there. Sometimes Grian was talking to Gem and she was writing something furiously. Pearl was there once, clearly helping to take care of Clementine’s egg while he was indisposed. He thought he might have slurred a ‘thank you’ that time because her feathers had poofed up like a startled cat. He might have laughed before he passed out again. It was pretty funny.

Once there were two men he saw that he hadn’t seen before. The one with brown and dyed blond hair and neon pink glasses was fussing over a clearly exhausted Gem. He had two flesh colored horns jutting out of his forehead. He was also pressing food and water into her hands and lecturing her sternly. Meanwhile, a man with scars—though not as many as the man with the same name—and black hair and almost inhuman blue eyes was tucking his blanket back up from where it had fallen and replaced the cool cloth on his forehead. Tommy’s vision was kinda fuzzy at the edges, but he thought he saw white trailing behind the man. The man’s eyes darted down to his own half-lidded ones, and a kind smile spread across his lips.

“Hey there, Timtams,” he murmured while Gem was fussed over by the other man. “You’re doing great, don’t you worry. We’re takin’ care of Gemstone. You’ll be alright, Sunbeam, just rest.”

His voice was soothing. A cool energy spread through Tommy’s limbs from where the man was gently patting his shoulder. It chased away the boiling hot and soothed the icy cold. Tommy grumbled deliriously and slipped back into sleep.

The only time Gem wasn’t right next to him, he could see orange on the edge of his vision. He managed to get enough energy to glance over. She was tucked in a cot on the side of the room. Tommy closed his aching eyes, sighing heavily. He blinked blearily. The glance alone had drained his energy. But, there was Scar as well. He was sitting next to the bed, talking animatedly but still softly. Next to him was a jukebox, a song Tommy hadn’t heard before playing quietly. Tommy let the music seep into his bones, going even more limp than he already had been. He slipped back to sleep.

Finally, Tommy could feel his limbs again. He slowly cracked open his crusty eyes. He groaned, scrubbing at his eyelids with a heavy arm. Everything felt heavy. And yet at the same time, despite his aching limbs, he felt more settled in himself than he ever had before.

“Tommy!” Gem exclaimed, carefully keeping her voice down. She vaulted off her chair, grabbing the water from his nightstand. She helped him sit up from where he’d been laid on his side. She propped him up at an odd angle, but he was just grateful to stretch. He sipped at the water she offered gratefully. He cleared his throat when she pulled the water bottle away.

“What happened?” he asked, voice still slightly croaky.

Gem smiled at him. “You manifested! I’m surprised it was so sudden, though… there should have been signs beforehand…”

Tommy paused. “... like back pain?”

“Well, yes, especially since-” she halted. Gem narrowed her eyes at him, frowning. “Tommy. Were you having manifestation pains and you didn’t bother to tell me.”

“... uh… no?”

“Tommy!” she scolded. “That was incredibly dangerous! If I had known before I could have given you something for the pain and helped you sleep before the manifestation started! No wonder it was so painful!”

Tommy hunched his oddly heavy shoulders. He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, gem.”

She sighed, clearly exasperated, but leaned her head against his. “Whatever, it’s done now, nothing to do about it.”

“You’re the best!”

“You can’t butter me up, mister!” Gem huffed, though a smile twitched at her lips. She shook her head fondly. “Honestly… anyway, why don’t I get you a mirror? Then you can see your manifestation traits!”

Tommy perked up instantly. Gem chucked, rummaging through her inventory before she produced a decently large handheld mirror. Tommy held it up, and blinked.

Overall, there weren’t too many huge changes. His blue eyes seemed a little brighter. His pupils were also different, now white. Something about them were familiar but he couldn’t place it yet. His ears were more pointed, like Gem’s and Scar’s. Gem produced another mirror, and held it behind him. He gaped. But… that explained his back pain and why his shoulders were heavy.

Two sets of large, gossamer wings that shone a brilliant blue when they shifted but otherwise were clear like dragonfly wings sprouted from his shoulders.

“Looks like it’ll be backless shirts until I can tailor your outfits properly,” Gem grinned. “I’ve already commissioned Cleo for some new outfits. She’ll be coming by in a few days to ask for your final decision on them.”

Tommy blinked. It was… it was a little odd to have wings after so long without. Especially ones that seemed so very delicate. And yet at the same time, it didn’t feel odd at all. Despite being new limbs… it was almost like he’d finally found a missing piece of himself. Like he should have had them the whole time. 

Tommy smiled at Gem. “Thanks. So… do we know what I am?”

Gem gave him a bit of a funny look. “Aren’t the wings enough of a clue? You’re an allay hybrid. Now up you get! You’ve been too stationary these past few days. You need to stretch!”

Gem pulled him to his feet, steadying him when he wobbled, continuing to chatter away. “And our neighbors Impulse and Skizz are back. Mambo and Joel— two other guys who live on the mountain— have gotten impatient and are now demanding to meet you as well. Joel more so than Mumbo. Which is rich considering that both of them have been so engrossed in their projects they didn’t even realize we had a new member of the server-”

Tommy smiled, letting the rhythm of Gem’s voice wash over him. The wings on his back fluttered, slowly getting used to movement. Yeah. This was good.

Chapter Text

Tommy stared in awe at the small creature in his hands. It was a brilliant, otherworldly cerulean blue, like his eyes. Its own blinked slowly up at him, white and as shimmering as its iridescent dragonfly-like wings, small crystals floated and rotated over the delicate gossamer. In its hands, it held an ink sac.

“So, this is an allay, then?” Tommy asked. He’d seen them floating around on occasion but he hadn’t truly questioned what they were. They were just another marvelous thing from Hermitcraft. The delicate faerie brushed its wispy tail over his hand. He released his gentle hold. It danced across his palm, swirled around his head, and then continued on its way to the boat in the bay to resume its work. Tommy looked over to Gem, who was busy playing with her own allay.

“I don’t see a mouth, how do they eat?” Tommy questioned as he watched the faerie giggle and chitter as it swirled around Gem’s hand and the jukebox steadily playing music next to them. He had only finished manifesting the day before, but he’d adjusted well after a few stretches. His wings were still a little too delicate to fly, however. Scar had told him they would be that way for one more week, but they’d be strong enough in time for MCC. Scar’s wings were usually tucked away, but he’d shown Tommy that first evening. They were grey and far more ragged and moth-like than Tommy’s own.

“Oh, they do have mouths, they just don’t use them very often. Allay’s, unlike vexes, don’t need to eat,” Gem answered, booping the allay gently. “Not in the traditional sense. They feed off of the soundwaves of music and off of a bond with a Player. But, they do enjoy cookies.”

“They feed off Players?” Tommy repeated. Gem nodded.

“It's not enough to cause harm, and it’s a pretty symbiotic relationship since they’ll help with collecting items,” Gem explained. “But yes, they feed off the energy a Player gives off. It’s a leftover from when they were much closer to the original Fae in the ancestry tree. They can’t take Names, but they can still take energy.”

Tommy hummed with interest. “Can I do that?”

“I dunno,” Gem shrugged. “You’d have to ask Scar. I don’t think you can just subsist on energy alone, though. You are a hybrid , after all. But, I think you probably get energy— or at least comfort— from music.”

Tommy nodded slowly. That made sense, given… everything. “I thought Scar was a vex? Why would he know? I thought vexes and allays were different.”

Gem wobbled her hand. “Sorta. Like I said, they’re cousin species. Vexes, I think, feed off of Players somehow. I don’t remember how, maybe negative energy or mood? I know it's similar to allays, so I think it’s either negative energy, bloodlust, or violence of some kind. Y’know, since vexes are so violent.”

Tommy let the conversation die off, instead just taking time to breath in the serenity of the beach and the music. Gem was right, the fresh air was helping his manifestation recovery. 

There was a loud wingbeat before someone landed with a thud. Tommy opened his eyes and started to turn, expecting it to be Grian.

“Skizz!” Gem cheered instead. She beamed back at the man. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to see how Longlegs over here was doing.”

Tommy sputtered, fully whipping around. “Fucking longlegs ?!”

The man grinned. It was the man Tommy recalled from when he had that fever. Scars criss crossed over his exposed arms. For some reason, he wore a suit top that had the arms clearly ripped off and jeans. He was also wearing two patterned, mismatched socks with sandals strapped in place, which didn’t seem intuitive for safe landings.

Stretching from his back was a pair of massive, snow white wings. The scars didn’t end at his arms, either. The bone and meat of the wings had slash marks, but the scarring was tinted with gold . The man beamed and laughed and the beach seemed to grow even lighter.

“Fine, I’ll strike that one,” he chuckled. “How ya doin’ Spitfire?”

Okay, he actually kinda liked that one.

“I’m- yeah, I’m fine?” Tommy said after a beat. “Who’re you, big man?”

“Skizzleman! Call me Skizz,” he said, reaching out. But he dodged Tommy returning the handshake, instead roughly— but not painfully— ruffling Tommy’s hair.

“OI!”

Skizz laughed, backing off. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He grinned. “For now. I just wanted to be the first one to greet you before Dippledop, Beans, and Mambo showed up.”

Tommy stared incredulously as Gem laughed. “Who the fuck are they?”

“Impulse, Joel, and Mumbo,” Gem answered before Skizz.

“Uh, duh ,” Skizz snorted, but his joking tone was clear by his facial expression. “I coulda said that, Gemstone.”

“How many nicknames do you have?”

“I got names for everybody!” Skizz said. “It’s important that people feel appreciated, so I take the time to craft them a nickname.” His seriousness broke with a snicker. “Plus, the expressions people make are hilarious.”

Tommy couldn’t help his matching grin. Gem and Skizz continued to tease each other. He played around with Gem’s allay, sharing one of his cookies with it. It made a shimmering noise and began to nibble on the edges. Tommy leaned back, his wings fluttering slightly. He watched the allays dance over the water and the two giant fish slowly circle the lighthouse.

He felt warm. It was a good day.

ShhcRAKK

Philza watched with interest and mild concern as the third branch in fifteen seconds was cut clean from the trunk. Ranboo danced away, the spray of snow not landing remotely close to them. They twirled the massive netherite axe in their hands like a baton as they fluidly ducked and wove under imaginary weapons from invisible foes. The axe hardly made a whisper as it slashed through the air, cutting cleanly through another branch with a mighty CRAKK . Ranboo bounded across the clearing, darting from tree to tree with a speed and precision Philza wasn’t used to from the normally anxious ender hybrid. 

Most of the trees had been rendered armless from the ground to six feet up. Branches and pine needles scattered across the clearing floor, hardly disturbed as Ranboo wove through them. Finally, after the last tree lining the clearing had been left bereft of its final limb, Ranboo glided to a halt in the center of the clearing. His sleeves were rolled back to the elbow, his usual suit blazer tucked away, netherite boots gleaming with enchantments. He tucked the axe back into his inventory and breathed out slowly. Philza clapped politely from where he was perched atop one of the other trees. Ranboo didn’t startle as the older man dropped down to the forest floor.

“Nice work, mate,” he whistled, surveying the damage. And it was! It was incredibly impressive, truly. “Clean.”

“Thanks,” Ranboo said with clear satisfaction. His hair was pulled back into a braided bun. They took a few more deep breaths, before their hand glimmered and bow and quiver fell into their arms.

“Are you still goin’?” Philza asked, raising a brow. He looked around at the branchless trees, multiple slash marks from swords at varying heights on the trunks. “You’ve been at this for hours, now. You’ve gotta be cold.”

Or wet , Philza thought worriedly. Despite the immense pain it caused, if small enough droplets of water got onto Ranboo, they wouldn’t notice. Their pain tolerance was concerning at the best of times. But Ranboo simply shrugged, adjusting their stance and drawing back the bow with neat accuracy.

“Why don’t you take a break,” Philza suggested, watching as they loosed the arrow and nailed a mark he couldn’t see at his angle. Ranboo seemed unbothered, so he assumed that was their goal. They drew another arrow. “You’va gotta be thirsty. Or hungry. Did you have breakfast?”

“No, no, yes,” Ranboo replied. They breathed out slowly and loosed the arrow. They drew another. “I’ll be in in a few minutes.”

“You said that two hours ago, mate,” Philza frowned. Ranboo’s brows furrowed. He paused as he knocked another arrow. 

“...huh… I hadn’t noticed,” Ranboo said. He glanced up at the cloudy sky. “What time is it?”

“About three in the afternoon,” Philza said wryly. “You’ve been out here since six.”

“... I think I had some snacks at some point,” Ranboo hummed. He drew and loosed the arrow. “I don’t feel particularly hungry. I know I had breakfast for sure.”

Philza frowned, half tempted to just scruff the kid and drag him back to the cottage to eat. He opened his mouth, and then shuddered at the gust of cold wind. Ice in the trees twinkled as they knocked together gently. Or- no, wait , Philza thought with a slowly growing sense of dread as something in the base of his back tugged like a web-thin string. Those are bells .

Next to him, Ranboo’s hand that had been reaching for their quiver fell. The bow hung limply in their hand, and the stance they were in relaxed. Ranboo heaved a heavy sigh, tension sloughing off them like water off a duck. Their eyes glimmered with purple, which in turn made Philza’s wings puff up at the hint of the enderwalk.

Philza turned, tense in his shoulders. Smajor smiled placidly. Philza stubbornly kept himself from squinting as the fae glided across the snow, hardly disturbing the pristine flakes. Ranboo smiled back, looking relaxed and utterly docile. Philza was certain he knew what the endarian was seeing. A tall, lithe man with cyan hair, star-bright eyes, and an inhumanly beautiful smile. Philza knew that wasn’t correct.

The entity before him had the same outline, the same body shape, as that was the one Smajor had formed. But it was as bright as a star. Golden, branching antlers twisted up from its head, icicles dripping from them and glittering like precious gems. The ‘hair’ was more of a constant backdrop to the body, providing a glimpse of where it may have been forged, filled with swirls of purple and black and twisting multi-colored nebulae. Shards of cyan-cerulean took the place of eyes like gemstones. A bright white, saccharine smile slashed across the face. Wings of varying sizes and shapes spread out from the head and back. Icy blue and gold cloth was draped artfully across the hand-crafted vessel. It hurt to look at.

Blue-gold-purple-blue-gold strings were tied gently around each finger, like a set of beautiful rings that snaked out and formed a shimmering spider’s web. Many twisted into the nebulae, no doubt attached to the Names they were assigned. One was coiled around Philza’s wings, thin and delicate. It was easy to break, but it was razor sharp and Philza knew that should he cut it, it would snap around his wings, severing the Deal innate and leaving him bereft of them once again. But he knew what he was getting into. The most concerning was the set of strings that danced around Ranboo.

They wove and unwove, forming bracelets, then necklaces, then simply thin strands. They coiled loosely around the wrists, ankles, and neck. Of all of these, the one Philza stared at with wide, horrified eyes, was the net of thin, gossamer strings that led to their chest, no doubt curling around their heart. 

“Aiya,” the entity greeted, icicles chiming like bells as they clacked together. The entity waved its hands casually, unconcerned for the dozens of strings that flitted through the air at the motion. “‘Ello, Ranboo, Philza .”

Philza shuddered, the sound of his Name rolling over him. It was a deliberate jab at Philza, he knew. A reminder of the Deal. The strings hung limply around his wings, but he didn’t need them to be tightened to remember. 

“...Smajor,” Philza replied uneasily. He got a sharp grin for his efforts. Smajor then turned its head, clearly dismissing him, instead turning to the youngest of the three. Ranboo stepped forward to the fae before the strings even had a chance to tug at them. They smiled at the being before them, clearly enchanted. 

“Scott!” Ranboo beamed. Philza had heard Smajor be referred to by that byname before. It was a much more familiar byname, one he dare not use. “Hi! I wasn’t- I didn’t know you’d be here! How- uh, why are you here?”

Despite the slightly halting words, Ranboo was clearly at ease. They did not see what Philza saw. Instead, they saw a beautiful, kind man who was staring at them fondly.

It unnerved Philza. 

“I came to check on you,” Smajor said, strolling around the clearing. Ranboo watched the fae wander. “Nicely done! This is very impressive. I’m looking forward to seeing your performance in MCC, Ranboo .”

Philza wished Smajor would stop using Ranboo’s Name, even if it made the ender beam. Philza frowned behind them as Ranboo chattered away about his training. Ranboo hardly ever talked that much to strangers, especially with that little of halting words. His frown grew deeper as he watched the two. Then, his eyes widened as Smajor continued.

“I’ve got something for you,” the fae said, reaching into its inventory. From there, Smajor produced a bundle— not a hand-made bag, but a bundle, something with a small pocket dimension that wasn’t available in this Update— and handed it to Ranboo. Ranboo smiled and thanked it—Philza shuddered. You never thank a fae, not outright, it was a show of you being indebted. And you never wanted to owe a fae.

Philza watched with growing horror as Ranboo reached into the bundle and pulled out a perfectly round apple with a health sheen to it.

“I thought you might be hungry since you’re working so hard,” Smajor said casually, but its eyes were pinned to Ranboo with a focus that chilled Philza. “So, I brought you some snacks.”

Ranboo smiled warmly, the same startled-happy look that he gave when Philza invited him over for meals or Technoblade offered for them to help with the hound army or Niki gave them a sweet. “Thank you,” they said with clear awe. Smajor grinned , and Philza’s hand almost seemed to act on its own.

SMACK

Ranboo jumped, startled as the apple was smacked out of his hand and sent flying across the clearing. He gave Philza a bewildered look. The avian ignored Ranboo’s slightly hurt “Phil, what-?” . Instead, he stared back with a clenched jaw as Smajor’s head snapped to face him, the beautiful cyan-cerulean eyes narrowing sharply. The cold, cold pressure weighed down on his chest.

Philza was Old . He had decades—centuries— of Hardcore under his belt. He was married to Death herself. There was a time when he was one of her Reapers, even. Crows echoed his calls and he walked side-by-side with the chosen of the Blood God.

But Smajor had his Name . Smajor had the abilities of an Admin, multiple servers created and snuffed by the fae in a mere instant. Smajor had Names. Many, many names. Smajor had the power to use Commands against others, as evidenced by the razor sharp threads digging painfully into the base of his wings. 

It was only by virtue of his wife that Philza was not firmly under Smajor’s thumb, the only reason why he still had autonomy. Smajor had partial custody of his Name. It was enough to send terror through Philza. He could fight any orders Smajor gave him, but there would always, always , be a cost. Whether it be his wings once more, his voice, his eyes, maybe Smajor would even slowly chip away at his sanity. 

Death came for everyone, even the fae if she so sees fit. But Philza wasn’t a Reaper anymore. Any power that came with it had been washed away, and it is only by his wife’s mercy and love that he is still able to fight against the fae’s orders. But-

But Kristen wouldn’t fight against everything . Kristen loved him, he knew that thoroughly. But this was Philza’s Deal. It was a choice he made. Kristen could shield him from the worst of it for some time. But not forever. Not when he made that choice willingly.

“ P̵̩͚̪͎͗̈́̅̌͘͜h̵̬̗͕͇͗̉͐͛̒͊̓͛͝ḯ̸͉͉̞͔̮͙̟̲̃̓͂̉̂l̸̨̤̰̝͔̖̥͙̿̿͑͂͐͝z̶̗͓̱̠̝̼̈̅̀̓̽̉͂͘͝͝a̴̮͔͍̜̺͒̀̓̐͗ ,” Smajor crooned, and Philza’s knees buckled . “ Go home . Give Techno my regards.”

For a moment, Philza stood firm and grit his teeth. The strings dug painfully into his wings, a clear threat. You agreed , they whispered, tightening, tightening, tightening. You gave your Name. You made a Deal .

“I won’t leave Ranboo alone with you ,” Philza said. He knew, alright? He knew that he was too late for this. Ranboo had given their Name to Smajor. But if Philza was here, maybe he could disrupt any other orders, any way for the strings to dig in further. Ranboo was just a kid . A kid with a poor memory who needed someone to guide and to help them-

“Phil,” Ranboo said flatly, and Philza was afraid to look. To see the strings digging into their neck and their jaw, to see the purple eyes as Ranboo succumbs to another enderwal, puppeteered by someone else. But he looked anyway. Ranboo had narrowed their eyes, confusion and upset in their red and green eyes. The threads hung loose and limp around their limbs, occasionally lazily forming a soft necklace or a cute woven bracelet. “Go back to the house.”

Philza startled from where he was staring at the strings. “What?”

Ranboo frowned. “I just- look, I don’t know how you two know each other… but that was, well it was just kinda rude. Scott’s been nothing but polite this entire time, you don’t need to be saying that to him. I’m fine. Go back home. I’ll keep practicing for a bit longer.”

Strings dug into his heel and Philza’s foot was drawn back a step without his permission. He grit his teeth once again against the Name. Smajor placed a star-bright hand against Ranboo’s shoulders, the teen relaxing under the hold.

“Don’t worry, Philza ,” Smajor grinned. “I’ll make sure Ranboo eats and gets some rest. Off you go then .”

The strings dug painfully under his skin and hauled his body to the tune of their puppet master. Philza walked away. Behind him, he heard, “Here, Ranboo. You should eat something! It’s no good to practice on an empty stomach.”

Philza closed his eyes, mouth twisted, knowing that the strings would continue to force him forward. The crunch of an apple rang in his ears.

Chapter Text

Parkour was a lot easier with a counterbalance you didn’t know you needed, Tommy had decided. He didn’t— couldn’t yet — fly as he was practicing parkour, but he found it much easier since manifesting. He used to always find himself over compensating for something subconsciously. Now with the not-too-heavy-but-noticeable wings on his back, he found that instinctual compensation was just the right amount. He wasn’t suddenly a parkour god or something, but his balance had improved dramatically .

He still fell off the parkour course.

Tommy spat the grass out of his mouth, grumbling at the sound of Joel cackling above him, teasing him for his fail. Tommy flipped over and grinned as he watched Joel fumble within three jumps, shrieking as he plummeted himself. Tommy laughed mockingly. Joel scowled at him, tanuki ears flicking.

MCC was about two weeks away and Tommy was practicing with the Hermits. It wasn’t hardcore or anything. It was mostly just touching up his knowledge and messing around. While they all wanted to win, they mostly wanted to have fun. It was a refreshing look to the competition, honestly. He was having a blast practicing parkour with Joel.

It was, as he had discovered, also not a bad way to make him realize they were serious with the ‘infinite respawns’ thing. He’d seen Scar fall off of buildings five times in the last week and Etho had been taken out by Tango’s ravager game about twenty. 

Tango was a funny guy. Especially when he realized Gem had snatched his Name yet again.

“Hey, Tango!” Gem had cheered. The man had fire for hair and two red goggles in place as he carefully lined out redstone chains. 

“Hi, Gem,” he said absently.

“Could you do me a favor?”

“Mhm?”

Tommy bit his lip. The man was genuinely just not paying attention.

“I want to introduce you to Tommy! May I have your Name?”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” Tango hummed. “I’m Tango of the Tek variety. Gotta get that last bit in there, it’s important.”

Gem smiled sweetly and patiently waited until he was finished with the delicate redstone and stood.

“I appreciate it. Tango, give me your lapis .”

Tango turned to his chest immediately, grabbing stacks and stacks of lapis lazuli blocks. With each step, Gem and Tommy’s eyes grew wider and wide.

“I didn’t think he had this much…” Gem whispered. Finally, Tango had gathered all the stacks and dumped them in front of Gem. Then he blinked.

“Wh- HEY!” Tango gasped. “Again?! Really!” He laughed. 

“See ya, Tango!” Gem said before sprinting off, Tommy racing after her. “Let’s go, Tommy!”

“GEM! GIMMIE MY NAME BACK!”

It was an entertaining hour of Tango chasing the two of them around.

“You ready to go again?” Joel grinned toothily. Tommy smiled back, wings fluttering. Joel was a beast when it came to building. It felt like his city took up half the mountain, and all of it was intricately done.

“Let’s do this!” Tommy exclaimed, leaping to his feet and not wobbling. The two took their places before racing off to the parkour course, chasing the other around when one overtook the other.

Each day ticked away to MCC and Tommy found himself hardly noticing the time passing by. He spent his days soaked in sun and splashing in the puddles from the rainstorms. He ran around the Magic Mountain and hung out with the people there. Scar let him help with texturing and making massive trees and particle effects that he didn’t even know were possible. He ran around Joel’s city, staring in awe at the billboards people made. He trailed after Impulse in his own cyberpunk city and watched the man do feats of redstone Tommy had never seen. Then he got to go to Mumbo’s and see the completely different style of redstone coding while helping him set up storefronts and build a little town on the side of the volcano. Then he’d listen to Skizz ramble about Maslow’s Hierarchy and help him decorate and set up each level. He’d mess around with Grian, oftentimes frustrating people with the Permit Office, where he was now a temp worker—not that either of them truly ‘worked’.

He met Cub. The man’s fireworks freaked him out at first, but the process of making the dyes and shapes for the rockets was… actually pretty fun. The first few times Cub set off the firework, it still sent him spiraling into panic. The fireworks made him uneasy even now, but he felt safe around Cub, who provided him with noise-cancelling headphones upon their second meeting.

Cleo was a blast to hang out with. She had incredibly dry humor and loved to make fun of people. Her work with armor stands was breathtaking and she helped him to make a few sculptures of his own. The two made the clothing for her armor stands together. It was nice to sew again. Joe would show up and wax poetry to them at random, often annoying Cleo in the process but she usually let him recite them anyway.

Doc was reclusive, but he seemed fine overall. Etho was often in the ravager minigame when he wasn’t hanging around the shopping district or working with the post office. Bdubs would hang out with Etho, but he too was funny and loud and brash and had gorgeous builds. False was great at PVP and fun to spar with. Pearl let him help her with mail deliveries and with the sniffers. Clementine hadn’t hatched yet but was probably due once they returned from MCC.

Hermitcraft was a stark contrast to the Dream SMP. There were monolithic structures and people laughing and messing around with each other with no hard feelings. It was a beautiful server with even better people. Tommy felt at peace here. He… he didn’t ever want to leave…

MCC was in three days. Tommy knew there was a high possibility—almost a guarantee—of him seeing his old servermates. And he… wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for that. Especially not for seeing him . The thought of him still had him flinching. Sometimes he woke up shivering, remembering the phantom blasts of explosions, of his head being underwater against his will.

But… Tommy had people with him now. Yeah, he’s got this, totally. He can do this! Hopefully…

Too soon and not soon enough, he was standing in spawn with Gem, Grian, Xisuma, Impulse, Pearl, and Scar. Cub and False were sitting this year out. Bracketed by his fa- servernates… his family , the dread he felt at seeing the Hub portal wasn’t as great. Gem lacing her fingers with his and Scar throwing a jovial arm around his shoulders as the man rambled about Star Wars helped.

“Ready for MCC?” Pearl asked, a confident grin on her face. Tommy drew in a deep breath, steeling his nerves. His wings were stronger now. He couldn’t fly very far yet, but he could boost himself in the air and glide pretty easily. He set his jaw and put on a bright grin.

“You bet!” 

“Remember to hold your invitations as we go,” Impulse said, giving Scar a pointed look. The other man huffed.

“It was one time …” Scar grumbled, fishing out his invitation.

“One time too many,” Impulse rolled his eyes. “You ended up in Phasmo.”

“Alright, alright, let’s get going,” Xisuma chuckled. “We’ll be late.”

He rested a hand on Tommy’s shoulder after Scar released him. Tommy couldn’t see through his visor, but he’d been around Xisuma enough these past few months that he was able to get the impression the man was smiling at him. Tommy gave a hesitant one back.

“You’ll be safe,” Xisuma promised, and Tommy’s smile grew more genuine.

“Thanks.”

He reached out and Gem took his hand with no hesitation. He’s got this.

Tommy stepped through the portal.

Chapter Text

Dream was angry. That was Ranboo’s first observation.

Ranboo had gotten up early that day. It was the day of MCC, and he wanted to do something special for it. They’d been getting their suit ready when they weren’t practicing for the various events. It was simple, easy to move in. Just a red blazer with a pair of dark red slacks, a white undershirt, and a red ribbon to tie back their hair. This was all to match with their team, the Red Rabbits. Ranboo wasn’t certain who was on his team, but he figured that they’d probably get time to meet up before the event started.

Since it was still the DSMP and everything was locked away upon transferring servers anyway, Ranboo made sure to gear up in their full diamond armor with a sword in hand and a bow at the ready. Then, he began the long trek towards the Spawn Hub. No one had used it since the last person—him, probably—had been added to the server. That was how the Dream SMP worked. People went in, and they never came back out. It was just his luck that when he got there was the same time that Dream did as well. Thankfully, Philza was there too, so there wasn’t as likely of a chance that the man did something.

“What are you doing here, Ranboo?” Dream asked through clearly grit teeth as the Hub portal flickered to life behind him. Ranboo held tight to their invitation, eyes darting between Dream and the portal. Dream’s mask tilted to the paper and his hands tightened on his axe handle. It was a miracle it didn’t splinter. “ No. You’re not going.”

Ranboo stood frozen for a moment, staring back at Dream’s mask. The feeling of eyes on them made their skin prickle. Philza’s wings were slightly spread, and he shifted himself to be a bit in between Ranboo and Dream. Ranboo appreciated the gesture. But still, Dream’s words rolled around in their head for a few moments. Ranboo…

Ranboo- didn’t care?

Yeah, y’know, that was definitely a threat lining those words. It was a command and a challenge all in one. But- well, Dream wasn’t the one who called who went to MCC and who didn’t, now did he? 

Something was tugging at Ranboo’s chest. It was unhurried, confident. There’s nothing he can do , that something whispered. Just walk through the portal. You have the invitation. He can’t do anything to you. Whatever the something tugging at his chest was, it left him with a feeling of safety and confidence.

Ranboo did not bother with Dream. They turned and began to walk towards the portal. There was a shuffle behind him. Fast feet on grass, a whistle of a blade through the air, and Philza cursing loudly. Ranboo stepped forward.

Behind them, Dream choked . 

Ranboo cast a glance over their shoulder. Dream was collapsed on the forest floor, axe dropped to the ground as he scratched at his through, choking and gasping for air. Behind him, Philza was frozen, wings tight to his back, almost as if in defense. For a moment, as Ranboo stared, they could have sworn they saw blue-gold-purple-blue-gold- winding around the Admin’s neck.

Then something tugged ever-so gently at his chest and he decided he really didn’t care about Dream.

Ranboo turned back and stepped through the portal, leaving Dream to desperately try and catch his breath on the ground.

Scott was finishing up his eyeshadow with his compact mirror when people began showing up. He kept half an eye on the entries as he moved on to the eyeling to complete the look. When the entries started slowing down and he didn’t feel the specific codes he was looking for, he sighed and double checked his makeup, putting down the eyeliner. Sharp, as always. Good. Scott drew in a deep breath and puffed a breath of frosty air over the mirror. Frost crept up the sides, before flaking away. The shimmering surface gleamed under the sunlight. Scott focused on the codes he was looking for and the mirror rippled like water. 

Scrying showed Dream keeping Ranboo and Philza from leaving his server. Scott rolled his eyes. The man was throwing a hissy fit, no doubt. How boring. He turned back to the mirror. He twirled a finger around the strand of connection he had through Ranboo’s Name and gave it a gentle tug. Ranboo had nothing to worry about, Dream’s tantrum shouldn’t impede on Ranboo having fun.

Ranboo turned and walked towards the portal, causing Scott to smile. Finally . How else was he supposed to give Ranboo their gift if they were stuck on that awful server?

The faerie narrowed his eyes as Dream pivoted on his heel, swinging his axe. Philza lunged for Dream, but the two men knew he wouldn’t get there in time by Philza’s horrified expression and Dream’s grin peeking out from where his mask slipped up. Ranboo, meanwhile, kept walking forward.

Good, they knew they were safe.

Scott flicked a finger.

The strings connecting Dream’s Name immediately tightened, cutting off his air and digging harshly into the man’s neck. Another set of strings yanked the axe from his hands. Ranboo glanced behind himself. Scott merely tugged at their string again, urging them forward as he tightened the strings around Dream’s neck. He grinned as Ranboo stepped through the portal. There we go . Scott glanced at Philza and rolled his eyes at how tightly the man had his wings pressed to his back. Honestly, the man hadn’t broken their Deal, there was no need for him to be so dramatic!

Scott blew another breath of frost over the mirror, clearing the magic from its surface and returning it to its previous state. Those two would come along sooner or later. Scott checked his makeup one last time before snapping the mirror closed. He brushed off his red outfit and merrily made his way to the portal to greet his Ranboo.

“Aiya!” Scott said chipperly. Ranboo lit up upon seeing him. Adorable .

“Scott!” Ranboo beamed, stepping forward and immediately hugging Scott. Scott wrapped his arms around them, clicking his tongue. Poor thing, they must have been more tense about the whole portal-fiasco than Scott realized. Well, that was easily fixed. Scott gently brushed his hand up their spine and on the down-brush dragged all the tension from the ender’s body. Ranboo sighed heavily and almost went limp in his arms.

“C’mon,” Scott laughed, shaking the younger gently. “Let’s go get you some food. It’s good, trust.” Ranboo pulled back and smiled, nodding excitedly. They let themself be tugged along by Scott. The faerie was excited for when Ranboo’s gift got there. Gem had mentioned that Tommy was on his way, so it would be soon.

Chapter Text

Tommy had watched MCC since he was a child, scampering around the Hub and shoving his way through crowds and clambering up light posts just to catch a glimpse of the broadcasts by Noxcrew. He remembered bursts of color and cheering filling the streets as everyone dressed in the colors and symbols of their team of choice to win. Tommy usually chose the Red Rabbits, because that was his favorite color and rabbits were cool. 

He remembered that vendors would be nicer to kids who didn’t have a set Server or were castaways or escapees from Anarchy Servers when MCC rolled around. He remembered clawing his way out of Anarchy, hands scorched and blistered from lava casting and limbs shaking from the sheer effort it took to hack away at the layers of code. Boffy helped, but Boffy didn’t care to leave. He was very much at home on those servers. Tommy grew up in Anarchy, but as normal as it had become for him he couldn’t help but wish for more .

Then he escaped, and he spent weeks running around the Hub worlds and evading the Mods of the Hubs. He had heard of MCC from people who had been recently added to Anarchy and were complaining about their bloodbath of Minecraft Monday being replaced with the much lighter-stakes competition. The Noxcrew broadcasted the tournament to anywhere and everywhere, you just had to tune in. And many people did. Tommy was able to witness the second MCC firsthand. 

He stood in front of the shop broadcasting for hours , unmoving even when intermissions came on. Each station had the opportunity to do either a team-centered broadcast of a specific team or an overview broadcast. Many chose the overview, but some chose specific teams the owner of the shops liked. Tommy stood so long his legs ached, even as the crowds next to him would fluctuate and move on as the minutes ticked by and each event changed. The shop owner took pity on him and passed him water and bread. Tommy was so captivated he’d nearly gotten snagged by a Mod and sent to a regulated hub server for young Players who didn’t have a public or private server to go to.

Eventually, Tommy had a few players he specifically liked to see. He loved to watch Philza and Technoblade and Wilbur—SBI as people tended to call them. But he also was captivated by Grian and other Hermits who left their server only this once when it wasn’t between Seasons for them. MCC was how he discovered the broadcasts the Hermits made, their own tutorials and minigames and vlogs that let people peek into the lives of the most mysterious and talented Server.

He, like tons of other kids, had always dreamed of being chosen to be on MCC, of course. But he knew it was somewhat of a pipedream. You had to be well known or know someone who knew someone in MCC to get recommended and invited to the tournament. Still, he liked to dream.

And now here he was, surrounded by lights and colors and cheers and laughter. He was glad he’d been around the Hermits as the sounds of fireworks didn’t make him jump quite as much. People milled about, the teams and Mods of the server were weaving between each other. There was chanting of team names and food being sold and people laughing and tussling playfully with each other. There were so many Players clustered together- it was almost overwhelming.

A hand clapped his shoulder, causing him to jump. Impulse grinned at him, streaks of purple that matched Pearl crossing his face. “You ready?”

Tommy sucked in a deep breath, his wings buzzing slightly. He grinned as wide as he could. “Ready as ever, big man!”

Impulse laughed and patted his shoulder. A bit of tension leaked from Tommy’s body at the familiar comfort. Gem looped her arm with his as Pearl wished them luck and dragged away Impulse to find the rest of their team. Xisuma patted his other arm.

“Good luck and have fun!” Xisuma wished chipperly, his own suit switched out for an aqua-colored axolotl suit. “Let me know if you need anything, I’m only a message away!” He waved at them and wandered off to find his own team.

Gem grinned at him. “C’mon! Let’s go find Scott, he’s on our team.”

Tommy beamed back at her, chest slowly lightening the longer he stood in the server. He was in MCC ! “Let’s do this!”

Gem laughed and the two of them raced off throughout the crowd. Tommy was practically floating as he bounced around. It was one thing to see it on a broadcast, being in person was so different . He could feel the energy thrumming through his feet. The air was electric with anticipation. Tommy’s face would hurt soon if he kept grinning so wide, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“There!” Gem called over the noise, pointing in the distance. Tucked slightly off to the side nearby a food stall was the owner and host of the tournament. The man in question glanced up and grinned, waving them over. Gem tugged him along. Tommy laughed and let her drag him through the crowd. As they got closer, Tommy noticed another person decked in red by Smajor—er, Scott.

Tommy’s eyes widened as they slowed and got closer. Ranboo stared back at him, just as wide-eyed.

“Ranboo?” “Tommy?” the two exclaimed at the same time. Gem snickered at them while Scott just smiled.

“Told you there was a gift for you,” he said to Ranboo, before gesturing to Tommy with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

“Wha- but, wait Tommy- I, how are you here?” Ranboo sputtered, before immediately panicking at their choice of words. “Not- not that I’m not happy to see you! I am!” Their shoulders curled in, tail wrapping around a leg as their voice grew quieter. “I… I missed you…”

Tommy blinked at- yeah, his friend. He stared at their achingly familiar hunched figure that they always took when upset but always seemed to straighten like a flower to the sun when Tommy loudly burst into their space. Ranboo’s lapel caught his eye. It was pinned open by an pressed flower that had been preserved in resin.

An allium.

Ranboo wheezed slightly as Tommy crashed into them, wrapping his arms around their middle and squeezing like they’d disappear. His face was buried in their chest and the wings on his back—Ranboo’ll just file that away for later to freak out about—shook slightly.

“‘Missed you too, bitch,” Tommy grumbled, but tellingly didn’t let go. Ranboo softened immediately, tension leaving their shoulders. They wrapped their arms around Tommy and squeezed back, careful to avoid the delicate wings. 

“I missed you too, Tommy.”

“You said that already,” Tommy snorted. Ranboo huffed and tugged sharply but not painfully at a blond curl.

“Oh shut up, you love me.”

“Not true, you’re a bitch and a fuckin pussy who I hate,” Tommy complained, head still buried in Ranboo’s chest. The ender rolled their eyes fondly.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” they snickered. “That totally checks out. My bad.”

“It is your bad,” Tommy sniffed, sounding just a touch too wet to truly have any sting. Tommy pulled back at last, clearing his throat and very much pretending his eyes weren’t red and watery, or that he didn’t immediately check to see if he’d left any water stains that could hurt Ranboo. They grinned at their friend.

“Here. The burgers are great, you should try some.”

Tommy huffed and grabbed the offered food. But he sat pressed against Ranboo’s side as they ate, watching their respective guardians chatting. A few minutes after they were done, the four of them were walking around to explore when something nagged at Ranboo. They frowned and pulled out their notebook.

“Oh shit,” Ranboo whispered. Tommy raised a brow. “Tommy. Tommy, Dream is here.”

The blood drained from Tommy’s face.

Chapter Text

The floor swayed under Tommy’s feet. Waves rushed in his ears, crashing ominously against the gritty mix of mud and coarse gravel beach. The ocean steadily washed away more and more of the beach, steadily creeping towards his tattered tent. His ears rang, leftover damage from the explosives he’d been too close to one too many times. His feet were numb from the waves, as were his hands- no, his hands were numb from the tnt- or the frostbite-? Salt stung at his eyes, from the sea- no, tears-, no sweat-, no that was blood blood blood -

Something thumped hard against his back and Tommy gasped for air like he’d been drowning again. His chest heaved painfully. Each breath was a chore, each breath hurt , but he couldn’t stop the ragged, short breaths. Hands were on him, on his shoulders and arms and pressing him down they were going to DROWN HIM-!

Tommy might have screamed. He wasn’t sure. His throat was raw but that might have just been from choking on the saltwater. The hands were off of him now. There was something thin wrapped around his ankles where he was curled in a ball. Someone was talking, their voice low and steady and soft. Something brushed against his back. Against his wings . A disc was playing. Firebugs , it was called. He liked it. It was nice. He missed Cat , but he liked the newer ones too.

Slowly, Tommy came back to himself. His chest still hurt but less so. His feet and hands had pins and needles and were shaking, but they weren’t numb. Someone was gently rubbing their hand up and down his arm. He’d subconsciously matched his breathing to them. Finally, Tommy’s vision cleared from the flashes of muddy shores and black dots.

Ranboo was still there. They were sitting in front of him, playing with their fingers in that nervous way they always did when they wanted to be physically closer to someone but weren’t sure if their touch would be welcome. Still, their whip-like tail with its tuft of white fur was wrapped gently around Tommy’s ankle.

There was a jukebox set nearby. Sure enough, Firebug was playing. Leaning against the jukebox, Scar was petting his tabby cat as he softly rambled on about a show he liked a lot. His voice was familiar and soothing over the soft whirring of his bracers around his legs and lower back.

Gem was next to him, running her hand up and down his arm lightly, to help him regulate his breathing. She smiled softly at him with empathetic eyes. She didn’t stop her motions and he really didn’t want her to. It was… it was safe , knowing that Gem was there next to him the whole time. Tommy’s wings fluttered, whacking gently against feathers.

Grian was on his other side, a feathery wing thrown over his back. He was busy messing around with his comm. He gave Tommy a smile, however, when he noticed that the allay hybrid had calmed down. The group was tucked away in a corner where no one else seemed to be walking by. He appreciated the privacy. Grian gently bumped his shoulder against Tommy’s.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. Tommy sucked in another breath, coughing slightly when his breath caught in his dry throat.

“Here.”

Tommy looked up past the offered water bottle. Scott smiled at him. It didn’t feel as plastic as the other smiles. This one was much softer, more understanding. Tommy took the water.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. After sipping some water, he cleared his throat. The disc was still playing, but Scar had stopped talking, instead just petting his cat. “I’m alright.”

Tommy winced as Gem immediately leveled him with an unimpressed—and worse, disappointed —face. She slowly raised a brow. Tommy wavered for a moment, before he folded like a wet paper towel. His shoulders curled in, his wings buzzing anxiously. Grian seemed unbothered by them hitting the underside of his wing.

“...my old Admin is here.”

Gem sucked in a sharp breath. Scar froze and Grian’s comm creaked under the sudden pressure of his talons. 

“I see,” Scott said, the placid smile back on his face. He cocked his head. “Who is your Admin?”

Tommy hesitated, flashes of green and that stupid mask and nobody will help you-i’m your only friend- he swallowed harshly, shaking his head.

“I-” he paused. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

Scott crouched in front of him, still smiling. “Tommy, I’ll be completely honest, I know the answer.”

Tommy’s eyes flicked up in surprise. Scott just smiled serenely back at him.

“I thought you’d feel more comfortable if you said it though.”

Gem shot Scott a frown. “He just had a panic attack at the mention of him, I don’t know how good an idea that is.”

Tommy just stared at the water bottle for a long moment. Gam’s hand still laid on his arm, Grian’s wing was still over his back, and Ranboo’s tail was still wrapped around his ankle. He took a deep breath.

“Dream.”

Gem and Scott paused. Gem smiled at him.

“Thank you, Tommy,” she said so proudly . Tommy blinked back the dust that had suddenly gotten in his eyes. No other reason. At all.

“Are you still up for MCC?” Scar asked. Tommy paused. Then he stared at Scar. Then he scowled.

“Excuse-the-fuck-you!” Tommy squawked. “Miss MCC ? Are you fuckin mad ? ‘Ow dare you even insinuate I’d miss MCC-!”

His family laughed at his loud complaints. Scott stood and stretched.

“Well, we’ll begin in an hour. I’ll see you soon!” the Admin said, tossing a wave over his shoulder. He patted Ranboo on their head, avoiding their horns, as he passed by.

“I’ll be right back,” Grian added, bouncing to his feet. “I’ve got people to annoy- greet before we start.”

“Grian!” Gem complained though she obviously wasn’t actually opposing him. Scar just laughed. Ranboo’s fingers hesitantly tangled with his. Tommy grasped the other’s hand. His chest was warm and light.

“I mean, the drama would be entertaining.”

Xisuma growled, the air around him fuzzing slightly. “Scott,” he hissed. “I don’t care about the drama, I want him dead. Gone. Some other euphemism!”

Scott huffed, crossing his arms. “Well excuse me for wanting my game tournament to be fun .”

Xisuma was very close to breaking his now swearing rule. He took a deep, if unnecessary, breath. His exhale rattled his axolotl suit.

“Yes, Grian?” he asked. The ex-Watcher loomed behind the other two Admins. His wings, usually colored the brilliant hues of a scarlet macaw’s, were now a swirling mass of black and dark grey shaped into feathers, speckles of purple scattered throughout. Some Eyes were closed, some were wide open. Xisuma knew that the open Eyes were keeping a lazy watch on the other Hermits or Grian’s other friends. He never Watched too closely, just kept half an eye—or ten—out to see if any of them needed help.

Or if they did anything funny. Xisuma still remembered tripping while building an ice highway by himself in the Nether and immediately getting a message from Grian that just said ‘L’.

“I’ve got a suggestion,” Grian said, his pitch-black eyes hosting an unsettling purple symbol. His grin was what really set Xisuma on edge, however. It was the grin he had when he first came up with the Life games, one that was matched by his friends who joined him with gusto.

“Oh?”

“I think Scott’s idea has merit,” Grian said with that too-wide-too-sharp grin. “After all, I lost the head I got off him previously. I could use a replacement.”

Oh yes, Xisuma had almost forgotten what made all the people around them avoid their little group when people would normally flock up to at least say hello to Scott. The Dreamslayer was certainly not someone people were keen to cross. Especially not with that look on his face.

Xisuma cocked his head. “So, you want to terrorize him?”

“Just a little .”

Scott shrugged with a serene smile. “Hey, if Technoblade can turn Bingo from Minecraft Monday into a bloodsport, no reason Grian can’t do it with all the others.”

Xisuma snorted. But he couldn’t deny it, the idea of seeing the chat flooded with Dream’s death messages… it certainly was an appealing thought. “BuildMart’ll be interesting.”

Grian beamed innocently at him, his feathers shaking and rippling, color bleeding back into his wings like inkblots. “I’ll go tell the girls the good news!”

With that, Grian fluttered back off into the crowd. The two Admins stood in silence for a moment.

“Gem’s going to gore him on her antlers,” Scott hummed.

“And Pearl’s going to fling him off of any and every high surface to watch him splat,” Xisuma chuckled.

“I think this is shaping up to be a great MCC,” Scott said. “Well, I’d better go tell the Noxcrew not to interfere since that’ll technically be sabotage. Bye!”

Xisuma sighed, his armor smoothing back out again as he relaxed. It would probably be cathartic for Tommy to see his old tormentor get chucked off of the paths anyway.

Chapter Text

Tommy stared resolutely away from the column in the Decision Dome that hosted the Lime Lamas. Of course Dream would manage to get that team and not need to change his outfit to something that wouldn’t bring up old memories. Tommy could never be that lucky. Gem squeezed his hand and Tommy drew in a few deep, slow breaths. He focused on the egg in his hand instead, watching the wheel of lights in front of him spin. 

It was surreal, being here. It had been so long since he’d thought of his childhood on his old Hub server, but now that he was here in MCC, it felt like yesterday. He remembered jumping from Hub world to Hub world when he was younger and had escaped Anarchy. Tommy remembered asking a nice lady at a bookstore why there were so many Hub worlds. Her answer was both simple and awe inspiring.

“Population growth,” the nice lady who smelled like ink and cinnamon said. “There’s a lot of people, you know. Things got very, very crowded for a long time. It took a while for mods to make suitable Hub worlds for those who couldn’t sustain their own private servers to live on. People could get small, bordered worlds with a group of friends, but only if they had enough money and energy, the same as now. But in order to host the elderly like me, children like yourself, or those who didn’t have the ability to make their own worlds—the majority of people—they needed to make more Hub worlds. And those are cramped because of time constraints and the energy it takes to make an intricate world.”

“But, I thought there were lotsa Hubs?” Tommy asked, brows furrowed. The woman smiled, eyes crinkling.

“Oh, there are now , certainly. Do you know why?”

Tommy shook his head and the woman shuffled off into the history section, waving him forward. 

“Have you ever heard of Hermitcraft?”

Tommy smiled. “Yeah! That’s where Grian’s from, right?”

“He is now, yes. But not always. Here.”

She handed him a book. ‘Hermits and Our Homes’ . He opened it, flipping past all the boring, word-only pages, ignoring the lady’s giggle. He stopped on a two-paged image. It was of a group of people of all kinds, standing together in a circle in a blank field of grass. He flipped the next page, and there was one of the people in front of a massive, megalithic structure. So was the next page, and the next, and the next, and so on. Soon, he came across a page with a familiar face. Grian, his favorite player on Minecraft Mondays, was standing grinning in front of a massive mansion that seemed to scrape the skies. He recognized that mansion, and the reverse, upside-down version of it on the page next to it.

Because that was the Hub world where he spent most of his time. He looked up at the bookseller with wide eyes. She smiled at him, tapping the page.

“We aren’t as crowded now because whenever the Hermits are finish with what they call ‘Seasons’, the Admin XisumaVoid opens the server to the public and turns the care of it over to the Hub Admin Council, which then assign Mods to care and upkeep the server.”

Any time Tommy saw Grian’s streams—or any Hermit’s streams—after that, he found himself in awe. He saw the titans that shaped the worlds he lived in. It was why he was so excited to join the Dream SMP. He wanted to be like them . 

Tommy jolted from his memories when Gem jostled his shoulder.

“Now!” she cried and launched her egg. Tommy followed after her, with Ranboo and Scott just behind. They chickens landed, the wheel slowed down, and the ding of a decision rang through the dome. 

The first game was BuildMart.

While Tommy had fun with the game and put his learned building skills to the test with Gem and his friend, Grian had other plans for this game.

“Let me know if you need anything!” Grian called to his group. “I’ve got something I need to do!”

Scar waved him on while Martyn raced off down a different hall. Philza glanced at him from under his pink-and-white striped bucket hat, confusion clear on his face. Grian did not answer, instead darting into the aisles of the map. He ducked between players, a manic grin on his face as the axe they were given materialized in his hand. He kept his eye out for any lime green, waving cheerfully to Gem as he passed her.

Her laughter followed him down the hall.

After too long—a minute or two—he finally came across his prey, mining up terracotta with agitation clear across his frame. 

He looked up just in time to avoid the axe imbedding itself where his head had once been. Disappointing , Grian thought as his grin grew impossibly wider, showing off more sharp teeth than should be possible to fit in his mouth. But so much more fun .

Dream stumbled back.

“Grian!” he shouted, trying to be angry but the thread of hysteria was clear. Aww, he remembered the last time Grian took his head! “What are you doing?! This isn’t PVP.”

Grian giggled, high pitched and hair-raising, jerking the axe out of the terracotta as his eyes remained pinned on his prey. “Hi, Dream!” he chirped. “I’m afraid I lost something the last time we changed Seasons. Your head .”

Dream dove to the floor as Grian swung again. He let the man get back to his feet and back away. The chase was so much better, afterall.

“The Mods will ban you!” Dream protested. Grian’s grin nearly split his face, a sickly purple glow lighting up the symbols in his pupils.

“ Will they? ”

Grian could hear Dream’s heartbeat speed up before the man turned and ran. Grian’s cackles chased after him, before the hybrid soared after him like a comet, bloodthirst filling his head and axe held high.

Back on the Dream SMP, many server members were watching with wide, startled eyes as Dream raced through the map. They’d never seen Dream like this before. He was hagrid and sweating and a chip had formed in his mask from where Grian had narrowly missed him with the axe.

He ran like a frightened rabbit, primal terror lining his moves. They watched as he turned a corner, only to come nose-to-nose with the horror that had been chasing him. The feathered beast—they couldn’t tell what it was, just the mass of black and grey feathers, the streaks of purple, and the grin —cackled that horrifying cackle, and swung.

[Dream was slain by X̸̨̨̛̣͈̳̘̣͕̯͇͓̙̭́̀̏̃̉̽̀͗̈́̃́̈̈́̅e̴̡͇͉̳͔͙̻̟̺̟͎͖̮͐̈́͐̂̀̇̌̽́̊͛͊̕ͅl̵͈̤͎͕̫̻͕͈̔͂̎̅͂͜ͅq̵͈̣̳͍̖͔̲̳̲̿̏̓͊͒̅͘ų̵͚͙̰̬͕̲̝̝̤̻̗̒̂̍̏̄͝ͅͅḁ̶͖͙̲̲͖̙̼̳͍͙̺͇̌̎̈͜ ] was buried by the ever-going chat. Anyone participating in the games didn’t seem to notice it, and those watching couldn’t tell if they were filled with fear or awe.

“Sorry about that!” Grian cheered in the last few minutes of the game, swooping in to help his teammates. “Got more held up than I thought I would.”

“It’s fine,” Scar laughed. “You got our stuff!”

“Yeah, the resources were a huge help,” Philza smiled, continuing on his section. Martyn gave him a knowing look from the other side of their build, but it was accompanied by a vicious grin. Grian had no doubt he’d picked up on bits and pieces of the private conversation Grian had had with the two Admins earlier. But Martyn was good at keeping his mouth shut when it counted, and it was clear he had no issues with Grian’s actions.

The Purple Pandas won, but that was fine. There were plenty more games to go, Grian thought as he grinned at the shaking form of Dream across the Decision Dome.

Next up: Hole-In-The-Wall.

Next to his own pillar, Pearl and Grian traded a bloodthirsty grin.

Chapter Text

Pearl liked Tommy, okay?

He was brash and blunt and crass and hilarious and sweet even when he really tried hard to insist he wasn’t. She’d seen him surrounded by sniffers and holding an egg with wonder in his eyes. She’d seen him when he was growing in his wings, pale-faced and sweating on his bed, brows drawn tight in pain. And she didn’t like seeing him like that.

She’d looked over in the first few minutes, when they were in the Decision Dome for the first voting. He’d looked pale and determined and small and scared. He had been clinging to Gem’s hand even if he tried to put on a brave grin.

She stopped by his space throughout BuildMart. He had relaxed, but he still eyed the doors with a wariness that made her chest ache.

She’d seen how he caught a glimpse of Dream out of the corner of his eye and stiffened.

Tommy had turned away before he could see the shadow of Grian swooping after the Admin. Shame, really, Pearl thinks he’d get a kick out of it.

Well , Pearl thinks to herself as the votes land on Hole-In-The-Wall. No time like the present .

She matches Grian’s bloodthirsty grin. She waits for the familiar swooping sensation as she gets teleported into the arena. Each arena has one person from each team in it to avoid crowding. She spots her target directly in front of her. Perfect. 

They’re released from their frozen state post-teleportation as the Mods count them in.

Three.

She watches as Tommy’s eyes grow wide and his face grows pale.

Two.

Dream turns and spots Tommy. He tenses, agitation clear across his frame.

One.

Dream reaches for Tommy, his fingers curled in a wicked mimic of talons.

“START!” the buzzer blares, the walls shuffle towards them, and Pearl kicks Dream in the back, sending him to the floor.

He, unfortunately, manages to recover enough to weave his way through the hole closest to him. Pearl wastes no further time, grabbing the back of his hoodie, planting her foot, hauling his shocked body over her shoulder, and throwing him out of the arena. There is a pleasant ding as he is disqualified from that round. 

Tommy his staring at her wide-eyed and opened mouthed as he moves through the wall. Pearl just flashes him with a grin and a thumbs up as she narrowly dodges being sent out herself.

She’s rewarded by Tommy’s incredulous laughter as he weaves through the obstacles.

It wasn’t as fun as Grian’s chase had seemed, but Pearl had limited space to work with. She thought she did rather well, otherwise.

Later, back in the Decision Dome, Ace Race is chosen. Pearl grins. Perfect . Now that would be a fun race! She grins wider as a shimmering trident materializes in her hand. They are moved to the arena, and Pearl immediately begins seeking out Dream. She spots him near the front of the crowd and readies her trident as they are counted in. Everyone has an elytra except for those who can fly for themselves. And from what she’s heard, Dream’s server is strictly no-flying.

He’s out of practice.

Her own magpie wings snap open to catch the wind as the Riptide enchantment whirls her away, her eyes focused solely on Dream. She dives for him, clipping the edge of his elytra and sending him careening briefly. Pearl watches with a manic grin as he rights himself. She can feel his glare through his mask and watches as he shoots himself back into the air. She tilts her wings and lets the wind catch them, slowing in the air. She can see the confusion in his body language and the way he watches her as he sails past.

She can see the moment it dawns on him when they land in a water pad and she aims her trident for him and not the course.

He flees .

Pearl crackles with laughter and bolts after him

Tommy’s having a pretty good time, all things considering.

At one point, Dream passed him in Ace Race. Tommy felt his heart beat faster and the blood leave his face. But his old Admin didn’t even seem to notice Tommy.

He realized why when Pearl streaked after him, manic grin on her face as she clearly arrowed after Dream, sending him careening of the course. Tommy craned his neck to see Pearl slow herself expertly, waiting for Dream to right himself and return, like a cat playing with a mouse.

He turned back to the race and decided not to question it. Instead, he focused on playing. Flying was fun, he decided, steadfastly ignoring the shrieks of terror behind him. He was excited for when his wings were strong enough for him to fly on his own.

The next game was Grid Runners. Tommy liked that one. Not only did he not have to worry about looking over his shoulder for Dream every second, but it was fun working in a team with Gem, Ranboo, and Scott. They worked well together and placed very high in the rankings. 

Though it was a little hard to tell given the last two all-together games, after Grid Runners was their first pvp game. Sky Battle. Tommy was actually a bit excited for this. He wasn’t the greatest at pvp, but participating in the fight club Gem, Cub, and Joel had had really helped him reorient pvp as non-permadeath. It was actually pretty enjoyable to spar with his family. Especially given how unwieldy it was to do Gem’s trident arena. Half the time was just spent bouncing off the walls and laughing breathlessly.

Besides, Ranboo had come from a Skywars server while Tommy had been in Anarchy. They both had the skills necessary to get in and out quickly. With Gem on their side, it would be easy.

Sky Battle was just as fast-paced and brutal as it looked in the broadcasts, but it was also a lot of fun. Tommy built their bridge fast, Scott gathered the materials, and Ranboo and Gem sniped people off their bridges as they went. Even when in face-to-face combat, Tommy had fun. Most people just had focused looks on their faces, not bloodthirsty. Those that did have grins on their faces were filled with competitiveness and humor and laughed as they fell or were struck down. There wasn’t the kind of final battle adrenaline that Tommy knew from the Dream SMP. So yes, he and Ranboo had fun.

He didn’t even notice Gem peeling off from the group.

Gem had been having a lot of fun on her part. The games had been relaxed and joyful and even if they weren’t winning they certainly weren’t losing either. Tommy had been getting louder and louder, a grin constantly on his face as they played. Grian and Pearl played interference with Dream so well that Tommy didn’t even notice half the times the Admin was in his field of view. All was well.

But, admittedly, she was getting antsy . 

So, she left Scott to cover Tommy and Ranboo’s backs—the two were doing great , by the way—and slipped behind one of the walls. Then she dashed away. She’d been keeping Dream in her peripheral view for most of the game. Thee border was closing in, and if Gem didn’t get to stab him at least once she might actually go insane.

[Gem whispers to Grian and Pearl: Back off]

The two avians immediately flipped around from where they’d been steadily making their way towards Dream. The Admin was clearly harried, whipping his head between them, backed into a metaphorical corner that was about to be incredibly real. He was clearly bewildered when the two bloodthirsty avians suddenly and without warning dropped away to go back to their teams.

Gem streaked in like a comet, crashing into him without preamble. She swiped her sword and his severed arm followed. Gem grinned as he screamed. He didn’t even get to turn. In three swift, clean strokes, she lopped off the rest of his limbs. Without waiting or saying a word, she cut off his head, cutting off his screams as he dissolved into light.

Sated for now, she sprang back to Tommy and Ranboo, dive-bombing someone who had been sneaking up on them.

“I got you!” she called. Tommy grinned back at her, clearly having not even known where she’d been.

Ah well. He could ask if he got curious. Gem cheered with them as they won the Sky Battle. She certainly wouldn’t be bringing up what happened. Instead, she skipped off with Tommy to go find food during their intermission.

Chapter Text

Tommy still tensed up whenever someone from the Lime team flitted by in the corner of his vision. But, even as his heart raced, he wasn’t filled with as much overwhelming fear as he thought he would be. He was ready to bolt, but he didn’t freeze. He barely even bothered to look over to check to ensure that Dream wasn’t staring him down. Instead, Tommy would shudder, and then let himself be swept up by his family in the intermission. 

Pearl slid him and Ranboo plates heaping with delicious food as she, Impulse, and Gem bickered about the proper kind of soup to have during intermission. The latter two were complaining about her roulette wheel style of making soups while she insisted the anticipation helped enhance the flavor the most. Grian was pestering Xisuma while needling Scar. Scar had no trouble whining dramatically before poking back with good nature. Scott was laughing at the chaos of their table and occasionally reminding Ranboo to eat when they got too absorbed in Scar’s lecture on Star Wars. Tommy had already heard the spiel, so he was much more interested in the soup argument.

He wasn’t blind, okay? He’d noticed Grian, and Gem, and Pearl peeling away during the games to rag on Dream. The only thing he needed to do to see that was to look at his Comm. The death messages spoke for themselves, even that weirdly garbled one from Grian earlier in the games.

But to be honest… Tommy just kinda… didn’t want to think about it? It wasn’t that Dream’s death bothered him or anything, it was actually pretty funny. But Tommy was fucking tired , okay?

He was tired of hearing about Dream, of seeing Dream, and of even thinking about Dream. The fucker had been consuming his mind for an embarrassingly long amount of time. He spent most of the war and exile looking over his shoulder for him, getting more and more paranoid that this would be the time that the Admin got bored of him. That now he’d be done with playing around. That this would be Tommy’s last breath. For three fuckin years. 

So yeah. He was a little fucking tired. 

He was at MCC ! This was his dream ! Ever since he’d escaped Anarchy and tucked himself away on the Hub server that the Hermits had donated he’d wanted to be a part of MCC. And now here he was! He was playing the games, he was doing well , and he was here with his friends. His family ! Tommy wasn’t going to focus on the bastard that had already taken up too much of his time. 

Tommy didn’t ask about what was happening with Dream. He just enjoyed laughing with his friends and eating good food.

After the intermission, they landed on Railroad Rush. Tommy had fun finagling the tracks to be just right with Ranboo while Gem and Scott called out directions and helped to scoop up the tracks behind them. It was still pressured given the timer, but it was fun. Tommy and Ranboo bickered lightly over which way the railroad should go to reach their destination that dissolved into them trying to poke each other between placing tracks. Gem and Scott behind them laughed.

Tommy was having a good time in MCC, and even as Survival Games was chosen as their second-to-last event, he was certain nothing would be bringing his mood down.

Despite being a changeling, Gem did have a favored form. Obviously, most of her forms were variations of that one. Anyway, her favorite form had to be her deer hybrid form. She loved the antlers especially. They made for the perfect place to wind flowers. She loved her antlers so much she brought them over to her Season 9 Druid form and even in her Dawn Princess form. Half the time, she even changed her lower body to the legs and hooves of a deer. She liked the noise of her hooves on stone and dirt.

Look, the point was she liked her deer form. It was cute and cozy and awesome.

But running around as a deer had most people drawing conclusions about her. That she was sweet and soft and dainty and easily spooked—Ren made that last mistake once, he hasn’t since. They assume she’d prey . Now, not only is that completely illogical in this day and age regardless of instincts, it’s also not entirely true of deer. Does tend to have the flight instinct, sure, and bucks may be more inclined to run first and fight last, but those antlers were there for a reason. No one ever seemed to take the antlers as the threat they were.

Regardless, this idea is unfounded. Not only is this idea not feasible in actual deer hybrids—she’s met a few, they will gore you on their antlers or put a hoof through your chest—it most certainly wasn’t true for her . Because Gem isn’t a deer hybrid. And while, biologically, deer hybrids might have leaned more on the ‘prey’ side of the food chain, Gem did not . Because Gem isn’t prey. Gem is a changeling .

She’s a hunter . An ambush predator that lies in wait until you invite it inside and look past the dangerous claws and teeth she has shimmering under her skin.

She can tell from glancing at Dream across the Decision Dome that he’s starting to crack under the pressure that Grian and Pearl have been putting him under whenever they could. Grian had even sent him running during Intermission by flashing purple eyes eyes eyes at him at random intervals. He was already paranoid. The man was getting worse. His focus was splintered, trying to keep eyes on Grian and Pearl at the same time. He’d forgotten about her. She’d been too quick with her slaughter back in Sky Battle. He hadn’t been able to turn to see who had killed him and he’d thus assumed it was Grian or Pearl. Since he couldn’t control when or how they attacked, his harried mind had started to focus in on the one thing he’d been able to control in the past.

The allay hybrid cheering next to her as they landed on Survival Games.

That wouldn’t do.

Gem felt her form shimmer. The teethclawseyesteethteeth teeth bubbling under her skin itched at her glamor and clawed and bit at the bark that made up her skin. Her wooden antlers sharpened and splintered slightly as she stared unblinking across the Decision Dome. Dream doesn’t notice her. Scott chuckles under his breath next to her. A grin filled with teethtoomanyteeth spreads across her paling bark face.

Scott’s thumb brushes her cheek and pushes her glamor back into place, smoothing out the wood grains that appeared across her skin. Gem let him guide her cloaking magic back into place as she kept her prey in her sight.

Dream had made himself known by evading hunters. Time to see how he stood up to a predator looming at his back.

Chapter Text

Gem split away as soon as they dropped into the arena. She patted Tommy’s back, wished him luck and to have fun, before bounding off, her form shimmering before vanishing seamlessly into the scenery. Tommy, Ranboo, and Scott moved further into the cityscape to gather supplies.

Dream’s team split to cover more ground and get more supplies. He could hardly think, he just knew that out in the cityscape he was too exposed. Even when tucked between alleys he was too exposed. They could still find him, still See him, could find him again - no, no, he’s fine! Breathe. Control. In and out. He’s in an element of his. Survival, he could do this. He could survive. He wasn’t scared! He was- he was being strategic as he jumped from shadow to shadow. He was just being tactical! 

He dove for the trees, hiding in their branches, fearful of the sky above the cityscape. No- not fearful! He’s not afraid! Dream just- he was sure there was some good supplies hidden in the foliage of the forested part of the arena. He’s okay! Really! He’s- he’s-

He’s being watched .

His breath picked up, fogging against his mask. That was where the beads of moisture came from! He wasn’t sweating! He wasn’t- he wasn’t crying why would he be crying? That would be stupid and unnecessary and it would mean he wasn’t in control oh god he couldn’t control this why couldn’t he- why didn’t he- help help-

Dream sliced the axe he found across his own arm, gasping as the pain shocked the world into sharp focus. His hands trembled on the shaft of the axe. His knees were locked. Dream took a deep breath. Control. He’s in control. He is okay. He has no reason to fear. He is an Admin.

He moved quietly through the birch trees. He had gotten lucky with that chest. Maybe he should go back to the city- feathers blocking the sun, a wicked grin bathed in red, purple eyes , maniacal laughter, talons and tridents slicing into his abdomen, his limbs severed in quick clean succession before his head topples off he’d dead - 

Dream slapped his face. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts of the previous games. He’s fine! He should just- he should do a thorough sweep of the forest first. So that he doesn’t miss anything!

He walked further into the woods. And further and further and further and further and- why hadn’t he reached the border yet? All the trees looked the same. Where was he? Had he gone in circles? He must have. Dream steadied himself, determined to walk straight. He made a mark against the nearest tree. He walked.

And walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked-

His breathing picked up again. The only thing he could hear was the pounding of his own heart and the sound of his own footsteps. It was silent otherwise. No birdsong, no animals running through the canopy, no fellow players, no announcements, not even a breeze through the trees. How long had he been walking? It felt like hours. Days, even. He- 

He couldn't breathe. 

His hands shook as he stumbled to a stop. The axe tumbled out of his trembling grip. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move, frozen in place. If he moved then the eyes would see him. The- the eyes - they were watching him - he was being watched watched watched GO AWAY!

He stumbled back, but he couldn’t escape them, he knew. He was surrounded. The eyes were in the knots of the trees. The birch trees stared unblinkingly at him. Their judgement weighed heavily on his shoulders. The lines beneath them looked like teeth. Eyes and teeth eyes and teeth eyes and teeth eyes and teeth eyes and teeth eyes and teeth EYES AND TEETH READY TO TEAR HIM TO PIECES-

The trees moved and Dream ran . He didn’t know how long or how far, he just ran and ran and ran .

Dream collapsed, his limbs trembling and his head filled with eyes and bark maws ready to swallow him whole. He gasped for air but he could hardly breathe. His vision was blurry and shook with exhaustion and tears.

The birch tree in front of him twisted . Its roots ripped from the ground. They made terrible hooves that dug sharply in the ground. Long, long arms with impossibly sharp claws like jagged, broken branches. Fiery red leaves formed blazing hair that haloed the thing before him. Woodgrains swirled to form teeth and jaws along its limbs. The swirls coalesced on its face making a skull filled with eyes eyes EYES EYES EYES EYES EYES EYES EYES OH GOD SAVE HIM-

Dream screamed until blood filled his mouth as his limbs were torn by the jagged fingers and sharp jaws of the terrible creature looming above him. Branches and roots tore through his stomach. He choked on blood and roots and flowers. Moss crawled into his eyes and tore him apart from inside. Blood painted the clearing, but even still he screamed -

Neither Dream nor Gem were seen throughout Survival Games.

Chapter Text

In light of the recent AI scraping ao3 has been having, I'm going to be posting this on some of my current and most read fics:

I DO NOT AND NEVER WILL CONSENT TO MY WORKS BEING USED TO TRAIN AI, OR FOR MY FICS TO BE PUT INTO AI.

I will be keeping my fics up for now. but let it be known that NO ONE may use my works in AI in ANY capacity. No training AI, no using it to 'generate a new chapter' because you're too impatient for me to upload, NOTHING. If you put my fics in AI, I delete the fics. i like posting, I like sharing my work, I like hearing what you have to say about my work. But if you put my fics in AI in any way, for any reason, I take them away. It's a rule we all learned in kindergarten; you be respectful and thankful for what you get, and you don't steal other people's projects or else no one gets them.

Again: IF MY WORK IS USED IN AI, I WILL DELETE THE WORKS. I CAN KEEP WRITING THEM FOR MYSELF AND NO ONE GETS TO SEE THEM. IF YOU HEAR SOMEONE IS USING AI ON WORKS, STOP THEM, OR NO ONE GETS TO ENJOY THEM.

See you all in the next update! :3

Chapter Text

“Finally! Parkour Warrior is my favorite, this will be great!”

“Dream is rocking himself in the corner and sobbing.”

“This ain’t about him.

Pearl was having a fantastic day.

MCC was going great, she was having fun with her team, and she was making Dream regret ever being born! Wins all around, she’d say!

The course stretched out before them as the clock ticked down. This was well known to be Dream’s best game in MCC. No doubt he’d be hoping to escape her and finally get reprieve as they raced across the obstacles. 

She would be happy to tear those hopes away from him.

As soon as the first noise ding ed, Pearl wasted no time in tackling Dream off the platform, dragging his time down immediately.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Dream yelled hysterically, sprinting off down the course. Pearl just giggled wildly and raced after him. Her talons narrowly missed his sleeve multiple times, but she was content with hearing him shriek every time she managed to snag and rip the fabric. She could hear his erratic breathing and knew that she was causing him enough terror that he had a good chance of simply having a heart attack.

At the next checkpoint, she managed to shove him off the platform again and bounded away to beat him to the next one. When Dream reappeared at the checkpoint, he narrowly avoided his head being taken off by Grian swiping his talons at his throat.

“Hey, Dream!” Grian grinned widely. Dream kept running.

Twice more he was tackled off or slashed off of the platform by Grian. When he reached the third checkpoint, he was met with a heavy hoof to the chest. Gem loomed above him with a few too many eyes and mouths. He rasped, because he had lost his ability to scream.

Dream ran.

They chased.

The three of them enjoyed batting Dream between them and tossing him off the platforms in various ways. They dragged it on until the time finally ran out. For the first time, Dream finished without ever so much as seeing the throne at the end.

Impulse and Pearl’s team won MCC, which was awesome! Tommy was a bit bummed his team didn’t win, obviously, but he got to play in MCC! That was totally worth it! Besides, Impulse let him wear his crown.

The Hermits, Scott, and Ranboo were standing around the lobby and chatting, as most teams were. Many teams traded socials and comms after the games. Scott often had a few more pressing things to do, but he’d already asked the other two of the Purple Pandas what they wanted their prize to be. 

“Impulse, have you thought of what Permissions you want?” Scott asked as Pearl laughed at something Gem said. 

“Thanks Scott, but I’m good,” Impulse chuckled. “I can’t really think of anything I’d need!”

“Pearl, what about you?”

Pearl hummed, debating for a moment, before shrugging. “Same here. I’ve got all I need!”

“Nice try though, Scott,” Xisuma said good naturedly. The group chuckled as Scott mock-pouted at not getting their Names.

“Darn. There’s always next year,” he said easily. They continued to laugh and chat for a few more moments, before Ranboo stiffened, the hair on the back of his neck rising at the familiar feeling of eyes on him.

Tommy choked as he was grabbed and yanked back by the neck of his shirt.

“There you are,” Dream hissed. Tommy’s veins turned to ice. The group in front of them immediately became on edge. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you .”

“Let him go,” Grian said simply, purple symbols pulsing in his void-like eyes. 

“He’s mine ,” Dream said, sounding almost hysterical. There was a crack in his mask that had revealed his wild eyes. “He’s my Player ! You have no right to take him from me.”

His hand moved to Tommy’s throat.

“Time to go home, Tommy .”

“Dream,” Pearl warned, wings puffing up behind her. Gem’s face turned more and more wooden as the seconds ticked by, her hair resembling leaves.

“Stay back!” Dream shrieked, yanking Tommy away as they stumbled backwards. Tommy gagged as he was pulled by his throat. The world seemed to fuzz, fading out of reality as his ears rang. Panic welled in his chest as he tried to gasp for air. He couldn’t tell if the lack of oxygen was due to the hand on his throat or the panic clogging his airways.

Dream’s hand was ripped from his throat and Tommy stumbled. He was steadied by two heavy, almost metallic hands on his shoulders. Xisuma looked larger than life, the air warping around him so harshly that it tore . Shreds of the fabric of reality parted to reveal nothing but cold, black, nothingness . The void . 

“ My Player,” Xisuma snarled, his voice warping and echoing through the bones of everyone around them. It was a command. A statement of the universe. Tommy felt it lay into his soul, into the code of his being. The claim wrapped around him.

Dream yelled with wordless, maddened rage and still lunged towards him. Tommy’s world narrowed down to the horrifying Admin that would never let him live, would never let him go . He could never escape him. He would always, always be under Dream’s thumb. He’d never be able to flee, no matter what anyone said.

Even when a muffled voice said something sharply and Dream collapsed like a puppet cut from its strings, Tommy couldn’t breathe. His ears rang and his vision darkened. Someone stepped in front of him, new hands on his elbows as the heavier pair lifted from his shoulders.

“Tommy. Tommy! ” 

Tommy gasped for air, but managed to look Scott in the eyes as the faerie held his arms. His cyan eyes seemed impossibly, inhumanly bright, like shards of a glacier.

“Listen to me. Dream -“ the man shuddered where he was collapsed on the ground, “will never hurt you or your friends again. I promise you. Okay?”

Tommy stared at Scott’s eyes. Slowly he nodded, his breathing steadily getting back to normal. Scott released his arms, and Tommy let himself be led away by Gem, who wrapped her own arms around him. Familiar warmth as he was led away, Gem whispering quiet assurenses to him. He glanced over his shoulder. The last thing he saw before he exited the room was Scott looming over a trembling, pathetic Dream. Space seemed to rip open around him. Then the doors to MCC closed. Tommy couldn’t see them anymore.

They returned to Hermitcraft. Tommy curled up in the sniffer pen as Gem sat next to him, playing with the allays. Skizz came by and flopped next to them, enjoying the morning as he chatted about a psychology fact he’d learned while researching for his pyramid. Tommy soaked up the sun, his own allay wings buzzing lightly whenever one of the blue fairies danced around him. He pet Clementine, who snorted soothingly in his lap.

Tommy breathed .

He was safe here. He was safe.

Days later, Ranboo messaged him. He and Tubbo met Tommy on the Hub, Tubbo tackling him in a hug. The Dream SMP had been shut down for various Admin crimes. Everyone was free to go to different servers for the first time in years. Tubbo and Ranboo were going to live together with Michael on one of the past Hermitcraft worlds, one that had been now turned into a Residential Hub. Tommy made a point to visit them at least once a month.

The rest of his time was spent with his family. He helped with the building of the Magic Mountain Volcano and visited every Hermit at least once, helping them with their builds. He learned various techniques and tips from his new server. 

After two more years, the server was turned partially over to the Hub Admins. Tommy could feel Permissions lace around him as he was granted Mod status over the server, as all Hermits were once they left the servers. It was their world, after all.

Tommy stood in a group around the new spawn of a brand new server. He raced off with Gem to gather resources and laughed at the chaos of the beginning of a new world.

Tommy built his first Hermitcraft starter base. A simple but pleasing cottage made of cobblestone and oak wood.

Tommy smiled.