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keirawantstocry · 2 months

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wait i just saw your prev fitpacbo post with tony and molly

may i propose fitpac noticing tubbos been possessed by three (demons?) krow, owen and bek

peepoShy <3

ah yes tony. my favorite streamer. also i once again made the possession even worse then originally asked

Tubbo slept for hours after the gods and goddess finally left his body. Fit and Pac made sure to watch over him while he slept.

They were talking quietly to each other, flirting gently when he finally woke up with a loud gasp. Tubbo shot up from his place on the bed and stared at them with unnerving eyes.

"I am Tubbo," said a androgynous very much not Tubbo voice.

"No you're not," Fit said with a quiet laugh. "Are you one of the ones we've met before?" It didn't sound like anyone they had met but he was unsure.

"Yes, I am. I do gay roleplay. Typical Tubbo behavior."

"Aimsey!" called a deeper voice, still not Tubbo, from Tubbo's mouth.

A lighter voice cut in. "Nope, that's Tubbo. We are Tubbo. Egg. Parenthood. Where is my daughter Sunny?"

The amount of voice fighting for dominance was overwhelming at this point.

"Hey, hey," Pac said, sitting down beside Tubbo's body on the bed. "Can we get some actual introductions so we can keep track of who's speaking?"

"And," Fit cut in. "Is Tubbo there right now?"

The first voice, Aimsey, shook Tubbo's head. "It's funnier this way isn't it?"

"I'm Krow!" said the masculine voice that revealed Aimsey's name in the first place.

"I'm Izzy," the light voice said.

"I'm Tubbo," Aimsey continued to insist while laughing.

A new voice, one that reminded them of Molly, a voice of reason, joined the mix. "Tubbo isn't here right now," they said. "He should be back soon. But for now you have us." She grinned with Tubbo's mouth, and once again it looked so strange, so unlike anything Tubbo would smile like. "Call me Becky. Owen is here as well but he's being a bit quiet. Tubbo's tired. The revival has taken a lot out of him so we're taking care of him for now."

"Where's Sunny?" Izzy asked. "I want to meet the child."

"Sunny is asleep," Pac explained. "How much longer are you guys gonna be here?"

Almost as if on queue his eyes flickered strangely and all the voices made pained noises. "Not much longer," Becky said. "His body is struggling. Revival isn't easy you know and neither is..." they paused. "Five gods and goddesses possessing your mind. It doesn't do any physical damage, our immortal spirits are actually helping heal him but it's a lot to wrap your mind around."

Aimsey cut in. "Which is why he isn't here right now. Too many voices, it would be overwhelming for his mortal mind."

"That's fascinating," Pac said breathlessly. He had always been curious how exactly possession worked after the few times he had met Mine and even Mumza through Phil. Adding Tubbo to the mix just peaked his curiosity even more. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Not Tubbo considered it. "Just... take care of him, yeah?" It was hard to tell who was speaking, it seemed like they all agreed on this statement as their voices blended into one. "Take care of him in the ways that we can't."

"Of course," Fit said immediately. "We'll do everything we can."

#gah i love posessision #also izzy was so fun i love them #qsmp #my writing #fanfiction #q!tubbo #q!pac #q!fit #q!aimsey #i loveeeeee magic and shit

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ghostatrandom · 2 months

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Let it be known, Project bluebird au WILL BE reused for an OC backstory I’m making I cooked too hard with that one just to let it go

#ghost writes smth #qsmp Jaiden #yes I probably won’t keep drawing qsmp unless something really interesting happens #like Aimsey joining the server idk #until then this is not my goodbye to my qsmp work #more like a: maybe we will see one day on a sunny day

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flickersprout · 2 months

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doing something new... new fic? maybe?

ASMP is consuming my brain and apparently dragging me back into my sonnet era. So... little poem about a!sunshipduo from a!guqqie's POV read on ao3 here, or full text under cut :)

He says the moon will listen when she speaks.

The moon. And even worse, I think he means it.

I hear her there, most nights, sharing her bit,

My little prince, the moonlight on the peaks,

And words not meant for me each night these weeks.

He’s reckless. All the venom he can spit

Is nothing to the world—he must know it.

I should just let her die for what he seeks.

But in the morning I can watch him lay,

His hair and skin touched golden by the dawn,

And any quirk or danger’s worth this day.

My brother’s words about the natural order

About the doomed pursuit of fox and fawn—

I only hear what my heart has to say.

#flicker writes #asmp #aimsey smp #asmp aimsey #asmp guqqie #sunshipduo #a!sunshipduo

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becca4leafclover · 4 months

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crowned (not yet in blood)

super short drabble of the choosing of a leader of Team Golden Geese in Purgatory 2 ft. shifter dragon Tubbo <3

#qsmp tubbo #aimsey and cherryrar are there for the mention of one (1) dialogue each #this is 450 words and mostly introspection CAUSE I SAID SO #becca writes words #becca rambles #qsmp #qsmp purgatory #qsmp purgatory 2 #qsmp fanfic #qsmp fanfiction

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canonically-a-genloser · 6 months

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"you were my best four years"

tws in tags. this one hurt a little bit (halfway through stopped liking this but here you guys go anyway because this took like three hours total to do)

Sneeg remembered the day him and Charlie had gotten to meet Henrik.

He'd decided he liked Randy's boyfriend-fiance-husband. Whatever the two were to each other by this point.

Charlie, though, had been ecstatic over the whole thing. Going on about how they were a family and how they looked the part. Sneeg wouldn't have argued with that, either- he had some similarities to Henrik, he would admit; and even eight-year-old Charlie had begun to look older and look vaguely like Randy in the process.

Not that Sneeg would ever tell Charlie he was getting taller.

But one other thing Sneeg had noticed- Henrik had been kind to Sneeg, too. Kinder than probably anyone had been, besides Randy.

It felt right. Different, but right.

And when the couple had an almost-marriage a few days later upon Charlie's insistence, Sneeg and Charlie themselves were the only ones to watch. There were no guests, no massive tents, no flowers, and only crudely hand-torn pieces of red paper (courtesy of Charlie) for Randy to walk down the aisle on.

All four of them cried as though the couple had had a minister and a fancy church to be properly married in.

Henrik hadn't known Randy's basically-kids long. Not technically, at least.

At the beginning, the brown-haired man had been beyond pissed that he'd been "stuck with babysitting". Henrik could easily tell even looking back now how much the two had grown on him in only three years. Now, they were almost all he talked about.

Henrik figured out why the moment he met the two little boys.

Charlie, the younger at seven years old, had initially hugged Randy's leg in an attempt to hide from Henrik, though he entirely gave himself away with his endless giggles. Sneeg, who was ten, had been far more quiet and nervous. He stayed at Randy's side more than hiding, though, and Henrik offered the boy a quiet smile to attempt a pact of friendship.

It hadn't taken Henrik long to start a lively game with Charlie, despite Sneeg's wary glances.

The game didn't last long either way, mainly for the sake of Randy's sanity. Henrik could see his husband's nervous stare in his peripherals as he took turns tossing first Charlie, then both of the boys at the couch. It was plenty padded, though Henrik decided after a few minutes that Randy didn't need to worry about his kids getting concussed on top of who knew what else with these two.

The day as a whole ended happy. Henrik had a turn at being nervous when Sneeg fell asleep leaned against him, but Randy's adoring smile made it worth it.

He smiled back at his husband.

Maybe life didn't have to be so bad.

Randy didn't know exactly what day one of the employees had managed to find a guitar somewhere in the mall for Randy to have. Or even how they'd gotten ahold of one.

He still couldn't help the slight smile that came to his face at the familiar sight and feel of having a guitar in his hands.

"D'you know how to play?" Charlie had asked, wide eyes made to look even bigger what with his new glasses. It was endearing, despite the fact that Randy had to still try to force the cause of Charlie's worsening eyesight out of his mind.

"I used to," he answered Charlie's question gently, testing a few chords.

Sneeg carefully leaned close to Randy.

Henrik's quiet gaze stayed on Randy, a slight smile on his face. Charlie was curled up close to him, his small hand gripping Henrik's sleeve.

Randy played as well as he could for the next while. He wouldn't say he sang, per se, but Sneeg still heard a comforting hum as Randy picked at the strings.

Charlie sang the words to what songs he knew, too- though he quieted when more yawns than words would leave him.

For being a thrown-together family all put together by a media company that had abducted them, Randy would say he didn't feel too bad about the current situation. Seeing Charlie with Henrik and feeling Sneeg leaning on him felt nice. As good as it could get in the mall, at least.

Life in the mall was almost kinder than life outside had ever been to him.

Charlie remembered the first time he'd died on-set.

Most of it, anyway.

It had been an accident, too. One of the heavier props left on the table from another show had fallen on top of him as he passed before he could even process that it had happened.

He remembered hearing Sneeg scream in terror, the feel of his own heart trying to force him to get up to make sure Sneeg was okay- though any thought of his brother was soon pushed out of his mind as searing pain shot through his chest.

"Henrik, help me!" a voice- Randy's voice- had shouted, and Charlie felt the giant mass on top of him slowly move up and away. Another scream joined Sneeg's before Charlie could register it as his own.

"I know, Charlie, I know, I know," Randy came close to shouting. Whether it was to be sure Charlie heard him or out of genuine fear, he was in too much pain to figure out.

Charlie couldn't breathe. Everything hurt, and he couldn't even see from the pain. He wanted to turn his screaming to words, his rushed breathing to normalcy, but nothing would change.

"I know, Charlie, sweetheart, I've gotta get you up, okay? I know, I'm sorry," Randy kept trying to reassure him.

For what it was worth, it felt like it helped. Charlie relaxed into Randy's arms, letting his dad cradle him close to his chest as the pain at long last slowly faded into a black void.

"Dad?" Sneeg tried.

Charlie was too quiet.

"Randy."

Sneeg looked on, tears streaming down his face as Randy looked up at Henrik's face, then back down at Charlie's frame, small, limp, and broken in his arms.

Henrik picked up Sneeg with ease, shielding the older boy's eyes from Charlie's bloody body.

"Come on, Ran. They'll fix him. C'mon," Henrik quietly coaxed. His voice sounded on the verge of tears, too, but Sneeg buried his face in the man's shoulder anyway.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Sneeg asked.

He already regretted every time he'd ever hit Charlie. Every time he'd fought the younger, even when provoked.

In that second, he was overwhelmed with the pain of knowing he couldn't take it back. The pain of knowing he would probably go and hurt Charlie again if Charlie survived.

"He'll be okay, Sneeg," Henrik said, putting a hand on Sneeg's head. The weight of it was comforting.

Sneeg let himself cry into Henrik's shoulder as Randy carried Charlie into a blindingly white room.

Randy swallowed at the lump in his throat as he pretended to listen to some new report from the laboratory.

He hardly understood what the woman across the room was talking about, not that he could have forced himself to pay attention even if he could understand it.

Henrik was gone.

Henrik was gone for good, just like his kids.

His kids that he hadn't even wanted at first. The kids who insisted on getting Randy and Henrik married days after they met Henrik. The kids who fought each other and nearly clawed each other to death and gave each other goldfish crackers as peace offerings ten minutes later. The kids who sang while he played guitar until they fell asleep. The kids who he sat with and held every time they got resurrected from a role in a show that got them killed and left them sweaty and shuddering in pain as their bodies rebuilt themselves.

And now, as though that wasn't enough, his husband was dead. They'd killed him, too. Without Charlie and Sneeg, it hit twice as hard.

He really had lost everything because of Showfall this time.

He'd hardly left his and Henrik's room since the day he got the news that Showfall had permakilled Henrik.

Randy had clung to his husband's pillow, Charlie's picture in hand, and not moved for who knew how long.

The guitar stayed on its makeshift cardboard stand in the corner of the room, but he couldn't bear to even look at it now.

Besides, he figured, what good would trying to pick himself up do him anymore? Maybe if Showfall thought he was useless enough, they'd permakill him too and let him be with his family.

As gruesome as it was, he couldn't help but cling to that thought alone for the first days- or what he thought was days, at any rate. Not that he had looked up to check the clock.

Randy had only finally gotten up three days later, his muddled brain managed to figure out the next time he saw a calendar. And he didn't even know really why he'd bothered getting up, either.

Not until he overheard someone whispering to another about how Charlie and Sneeg had escaped.

#tw death #tw child death #i am in the fog #this is. i dont even Know what au this is #i've gone insaneo mode #aimsey writes about genloss #Spotify #halfway through editing i didn't like this as much (at all) but i'm posting it anyway in case there's something good in here

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thechanglingchronicles · 2 months

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Silly asmp comic I made in like an hour because I have BRAINROT

Versions without text below the cut <3

#asmp #asmp fanart #asmp aimsey #asmp guqqie #mini comic #gay people!!#sunshipduo #aimsey #guqqie #my art hehe #no seriously I love asmp sooo much #fanart #w/w #I want to write a one shot too oh no

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jaymesdoodles · 2 years

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"I think I'm getting better"

Please reblog if you like

#art #illustration #sketches #doodles #digital art #digital illustration #dsmp #dream smp #fanart #c!aimsey #aimsey #aimsey fanart #dsmp poem #dsmp poetry #dsmp writing #dsmp fanart #jaymesdoodles #jaymes writes

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lunarhorrors · 1 year

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*warning for imagery of violence and slight gore*

The Lamb on the Altar Sings of Love, an arg!aimsey character study.

#aimsey #guqqie #sunshipduo #guqqie arg #arg!aimsey #arg!guqqie #arg!sunshipduo #writing #poem #fic #sapphic #wlw #there is something poetic about killing your lover #religious imagery #guqqie fanart #aimsey fanart #sunshipduo fanart

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aimseytv · 1 year

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there will come a poet, whose weapon is his word he will slay you with his tongue oh lei, oh lai, oh lord

#the thing i really like about this specific line contrast #is the fact with auaimsey youd expect him to be the soldier #or the king #but neither fit them #xey have tried hard to go against everything that was already set out for them #every thing scott wanted is nothing aimsey wanted to be #because auaimsey loves to write #to run #to be free #he isnt this demon king prince that is expected #he wants to write stories and dance and fall in love #he is a too human for the demon realm #but too demonic for the human realm #he is always just a little bit out of luck #and everyone knows he needs that luck right about now

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lavielavendel · 9 months

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Greek Mythology Sunshipduo AU

ello :D im writing a sunshipduo (and some others) AU based on the story of Apollo and Hyacinthus and this is the first 500~ words! this part is from arg!Guqqies pov :)

Project …

Attempt 51.

Everything hurt, but I’d stopped caring about pain a long time ago.

It had to work this time.

I had closed my eyes and darkness and strange specks of purple light had consumed me. It hadn’t flung me across the room this time, but I couldn’t move. Everything had started to spin, or at least that’s what it felt like.

Then suddenly I fell to the ground. The pain faded. Wind whistled in my ears. I tried to open my eyes. Something was off. It was dark. Did it work? I wasn’t in my lab anymore.

Well, lab is a big word. It was far from done, still just the basement of a small cottage hidden in the darkest part of the forest, but it was enough for now. A place where I could experiment without anyone bothering me.

This was a cave. Yet there was a slight breeze. It felt oddly familiar, like it had always been here. I heard a soft clicking. Heels. Footsteps. I could feel her panting. She was running.

Then I saw her.

Her name was Iris, goddess of the rainbow. I don’t know how I knew that. She was pretty short and almost completely covered by her cloudy white hair. She wore a simple dress of the same colour. It seemed to be made of a singled piece of fabric, bound together by thin sky-blue laces. A small diadem decorated her head with a rainbow. She treaded so lightly she was nearly floating, and the walls reflected her faint colourful glow.

It had worked! There was no way she was human, and as far as I know aliens didn’t look like that either. I wasn’t in my own universe anymore. I had done it! Euphoria rushed through me.

Meanwhile Iris had reached me and dropped down next to the place I fell.

“Darling, are you okay?” She asked.

Only then I realised what was off, I was in a different body. A man’s body.

So, something did go wrong. I’d have to find a way to bring my own later, but now I needed to find out where I was and what did work. My hands were covered in some dark grey mark that had crawled up my forearm. It shimmered purple.

I looked up at the woman, who had also been studying my hands. She looked at me and I saw her irises were filled with every colour of the rainbow.

“Are you okay?” She repeated. “What happened?”

She looked worried, like she cared. She had probably heard me fall to the ground and came to see if I was hurt. Or at least if the man whose body I had possessed was hurt.

Not me, of course.

The only one who would look at me like that stabbed me in the back a long time ago.

Not that that mattered anymore.

They left me. They promised me they would do anything. We would spend our lives together. I asked them to stay, but eventually they left.

They didn’t come back.

#aaaaaaaaaaaah #idk how to tag this #hya!sunshipduo #sunshipduo #sunshipduo fanart #aimsey #guqqie #guqqie fanart #arg!guqqie #writing

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tubborucho · 4 months

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Aimsey and Tubbo be spitting facts

#liss writes posts #tubbo #aimsey

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indeliblestars · 5 months

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i’ve never been good at words.

and you know that better than

anyone. giggling as i talk while

i feign annoyance and roll my eyes

and swing our hands together

on our familiar walks home.

(truthfully, the twinkle of your

laugh is the my favorite sound).

but, no. i’ve never been good

at words. not like you. not like

the way you command the

world around us with even

the smallest of sentences.

and everyone’s watching you,

no one’s turning away.

(and truthfully, i’ve never

been an a exception).

i’m not good at words, but

i’d like to think that i know

a good bit about love instead.

i see her everywhere around

us, i see her in everything

you say and do.

(and truthfully, you’re the

one who taught that).

love seems to trickle through

all the cracks, just like the

dandelions blooming uncontrollably

in the spaces between the

sidewalks. and i couldn’t stop

it, not even if i really wanted to.

(and truthfully, i never

would want to stop it).

i see love in the way i see

dahlias, and my first thought

is of you. i feel love in the way

i feel your impossibly cold fingers

intertwined with my own warm

ones, and hold them even tighter.

i speak of love when i speak of

you, when i speak to you. i sense

her in everything i do.

(and truthfully, love can even

make the words come easier).

sometimes love cradles me in her

hands and murmurs that you’ve

changed. and i can’t help but to

think fondly yeah, i really have.

(and truthfully, love really

just looks a lot like you).

#to be loved is to be changed #to be loved is to be known #an ode to the burning stars #poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #spilled ink #writeblr #writing #books #aimsey

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proudfreakmetarusonniku · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 9: Presumed Dead and Scar Reveal

Disc finale bad ending AU. After defeating Dream years later, the Knights of Hope find Tommy locked in his cell, believing him to be dead, and are astonished that he’s alive… and even more astonished seeing his wounds. Warnings for graphic depictions of violence, grief and mourning, graphic descriptions of injuries and wounds, body horror, implied abuse, torture, (non malicious) infantilisation, guilt, and traumabonding.

I admit I’m not too familiar with Aimsey's BSMP lore, so I hope I got it accurate enough! They were a blast to write.

I went back and forth on whether to use multiple pronouns for Aimsey and Eret or just they/them, so it might be inconsistent at times, sorry.

ao3 link

——

The stench of rot and blood in the cell made Aimsey feel sick to their stomach.

It was overwhelming, assaulting their senses the second the lava wall dropped. Their eyes involuntarily scrunched shut, but when they opened, it only got worse, seeing the carnage inside.

Blood covered the obsidian, chunks of hair, teeth, and bone scattered around haphazardly in piles. Chains and weapons hung from the walls, rusted and cracked from overuse. Magic hung in the air, its sickly sweet smell barely noticeable over the fog of death so dense Aimsey could breathe it, but the tingling on their fingers was familiar.

It was fresh, and that made everything worse. They’d hoped, vainly, that perhaps keeping Dream cornered had kept him from hurting others, but the blood had barely even dried. It seemed that something horrible had happened in here just minutes before they’d stormed the prison, before they’d cut the head off the snake. He must have known that he was dead, then, and done just one more horrific thing out of spite. It fit with what Eret had told them of the man- cold, calculating, cruel, and above all else, possessive. If he couldn’t hold onto his desires, he’d ruin the ones who took it from him out of spite.

A faint, whimpering moan broke the silence, an almost animalistic, wounded sound. So- so whoever was tortured in here, at least one of them had to be alive throughout all this. Fuck.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eret muttered as they leaned onto Aimsey, legs trembling. Aimsey had never seen them so afraid- when creating the Knights of Hope, they’d always seemed fearless, collected, the rock of the group. They’d become almost like a mentor to Aimsey, teaching them the history of the server before they forgot it. It was a lot, but Aimsey was happy to help.

Besides, Eret knew what it felt like to waste your life in regrets. They had a kinship in that, and in that, a way to move forward. Aimsey didn’t know how long they’d stay once the dust had settled- they wanted a home, God they did, somewhere to have friends and live to see each sunset, but there were ghosts haunting every inch of the server, and in them, Aimsey saw Guqqie every day. But regardless, Eret would be a friend for life.

A pang of grief immobilised them for a second at the thought of Guqqie. They’d promised to protect her and held maybe the vainest of hopes that maybe, with the revive book, they could make things right. But all it had done was rub that grief raw, before any hopes were thrown in a fire, quite literally, before their eyes. If Dream could not have it, he’d spend his last breaths spiting them.

But then they heard that pitiful cry again. High-pitched, almost childlike. It was clearly human on the second listen around- for as much as anyone could be considered a human here, anyway. Human and young. Maybe not a child, exactly, but younger than Aimsey. Whoever it was, they needed help.

Taking a deep breath, they took a step into the bloodbath. The floor was slippery under their hooves, and they squeezed their eyes shut, trying desperately to pretend it was anything but what it was, taking another laboured breath and opening them as they slowly made their way towards the centre of the cell, where the noise seemed to be coming from.

The person was behind a sodden blanket, they realised, noticing the slightest twitch of the fabric. Steeling themselves for a horrific sight, they reached down to pull the blanket away, revealing the sight underneath.

Aimsey really did vomit at the sight.

Whoever it was, they were unrecognisable, wild hair coated in blood and their face a mess of injuries. Almost like how someone looked after making a long jump off a tall, tall tower. Bruises kept one of their eyes swollen shut, while the other was a gaping hole. Half their face was torn open, like broken stitching, and what little was recognisable looked half rotting, like a decomposed corpse one that’d been in the water far too long.

Their body was barely there, a thin, wretched mess covered by filthy rags. Their legs were twisted and broken, bone painfully jutting out their corpse-grey flesh. One of their arms was torn off, leaving a stump wrapped in the same bloodied rags as the rest of them. The other was covered in holes, angry weapon wounds that tore through muscle and bone. Worst of all was a hole throughout their chest, one no one could survive. Where their heart and lungs should be were just empty space, their ribs gone and only the blackened, charred remains of a spine remaining.

Aimsey would have thought they were a corpse, were they not sobbing and shaking, taking hyperventilating breaths.

Eret gripped tightly enough onto Aimsey’s shoulder that his claws drew blood, tearing their sweater. “Tommy,” he barely managed to utter.

Tommy? No, this pitiful thing couldn’t be Tommy. Tommy had disappeared not long after the Knights of Hope were founded, and the reason was obvious- everyone had some story of how much Dream fucking despised Tommy. He’d killed him, clearly. So why was he alive, preserved somehow with magic as some morbid trophy?

Besides, they’d met Tommy. Tall, loud, excitable and brash and desperate for friends. Like a mirror of the person they once were, before they were forced to grow up. They’d even made a gift for him once, though he’d stabbed them in the arm after they’d given it, a look of inexplicable fear on his face. They weren’t close or anything, Aimsey couldn’t stand the reminder, but they knew Tommy enough to know that this scared, shivering child did not seem like the boy who’d literally stab a random person for startling him. The Tommy they knew would be kicking and screaming, not huddling up like a lost, scared little kid.

And Aimsey wasn’t just saying that because that’s what they would have probably tried to do back then. They weren’t.

The child’s head tilted weakly in the direction the two of them were standing in, struggling for even that slight movement. “Dream…?”

And, fuck, his voice was so weak, so shattered, but that was, without a doubt, Tommy.

“He’s gone,” Eret said, a waver in his voice. “He’ll never hurt you again, Tommy. I promise.”

Aimsey couldn’t help but feel sick at those words. Promises of protection never seemed to turn out right, and it was cruel to make a promise you couldn’t keep to someone so afraid and alone.

“Gone?” There was something akin to mourning in Tommy’s voice, despite everything. “I- he’s gone?”

“We- we had to,” Aimsey said quietly, trying to soothe the best they could. “We didn’t know you were here. We thought he’d…”

“He wasn’t- he wasn’t a prick like this, most of the time,” Tommy insisted. “He was- he was scared, and he wasn’t making sense, and he locked himself in here, and-“

Tommy’s words were cut off by pained coughing, as blood stained down his mouth and the stitches holding one side of his face together grew the slightest bit looser. Not just blood, but something worse. A pitch black, inhuman sludge, crackling with something from beyond this world, painfully sparking against his skin.

Is this what they nearly put Ran through? Guqqie? Everyone?

“And he did this to you?” Eret’s voice was gentle and familiar, and Aimsey felt an awkward guilt at not being able to do more.

“Fuckin’ duh.” Tommy let out an awful wheezing sound that might have been a laugh. “Said sommat about putting that book to good use while he still had it. I’m- I’m not hurt- well, I mean, obviously I am, this hurts like shit, but I’m not injured. He revived me, and- and he said goodbye all sad like, and asked if I- if we were friends. And I couldn’t say anything, and he just made this fucking depressed noise and said sorry. For everything. I wish I could have said sorry too, man. Guess I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologise to him!” Aimsey was louder than they intended to, and Tommy flinched. “I- I mean, you haven’t done anything wrong, but- but he hurt you for no reason! Man, that’s something you might not ever be able to forgive, and that’s okay. You- yeah, you gotta come to terms with that stuff, but it takes time. Just- just be gentle, and let yourself see the next sunset. Just keep going for that sunset, and the next, until you’re able to think. And then you can think about forgiveness.”

Aimsey’s heart squeezed at their own words, wishing they had someone to say that to them in the months following Guqqie. It would have made it so much easier, to think of the sunset they had to look forward to. Not her, broken and small. Not the idea Aimsey couldn’t protect her.

There was an awkward silence, before Tommy made a humming sound. “Huh. Maybe. I dunno. It’s- it’s all so complicated. I miss him. I’m glad he’s gone. Can- can I go home? Please, can you let me out of this fucking hell prison?”

“I think you’d probably best get some help for your injuries-“

“It’s fine, I won’t die, I already did and got revived, chill.” Tommy scoffed, the noise sending him into a pained coughing fit again, the magic fluid dripping from the hole in his chest, too, this time, sending him into convulsions. He opened and closed his mouth, as best as he could with the mangled state his face was in, sniffing. “I- uh, yeah, maybe, that’s a good idea. Hurts.”

Aimsey gently lifted the hollow form of Tommy, how light he felt making them feel sick. Their backpack weighed them down more than this full person, and- well, Tommy would be an adult now, wouldn’t he? Ran was, Tubbo was. They were around the same age, right? He still seemed so young, though, in need of help and protection.

Maybe that’s what life was about, though. Protecting the ones alive, and honouring those gone through that.

#my writing #ailesswhumptober #dream smp #c!primeboys #i mean it’s mostly c!tommy and c!aimsey but I’m being consistent #violence tw #injuries tw #grief tw #mourning tw #Body horror tw #implied abuse tw #torture tw #infantilisarion tw

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