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vyladromeave · 1 year

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COLD-BLOODED

This fic was made for the 2022/23 Minecraft Diaries Big Bang !! You can read on ao3, or here through the keep reading below.

Fic takes place during the Pikoro arc of S2, except Vylad goes with the group instead of Aaron. Vylad uses he/they here and Laurance has orange hair bcs. I’m an orange hair laurance truther and I said so. Ok yippee have fun !

cold-blood·ed /ˌkōldˈblədid/ adjective

having a body temperature varying with that of the environment; poikilothermic.

without emotion or pity; deliberately cruel or callous. "a cold-blooded murder"

To most, it’s no surprise to hear that the biology of a Shadowknight is different from that of a human. They’re entirely different creatures, after all, so it’s only natural that they function differently from one another. Exactly how they differ, though, is another question entirely.

For starters, there was a lot about the biology of Shadowknights that he, to this day, didn’t even know– let alone understand . Everything he knew on the topic was knowledge passed down to him from other knights (mainly Zenix), or things he discovered himself. It’s not like there was a lot of research being done on how they functioned, seeing as a large part of the world didn’t even believe in their existence.

But beyond that, there were the obvious bits. The eyes that went red when a Shadowknight gave in to the darker parts of themself. The increased strength, and durability. How eating and sleeping became a luxury, instead of a requirement. The immunity to fire was maybe a more obscure one, but in the few cases where it came up in conversation, those he mentioned it to always came to the conclusion that it made sense. How else would they thrive in a dimension consisting of nothing but lava and fire?

Then there were the pieces that no outsider would ever come to know on their own. Even between Shadowknights, sharing stories of the scars that killed them was taboo. And, contrary to what one might think, Shadowknights typically run cold, not hot. Of course, when they transformed or became enraged, their body temperatures would rise, and since the Nether was so hot naturally, Shadowknights residing there rarely had problems with it. But in all other cases, regulating their own body heat was something completely out of the question. They were cold-blooded creatures, in every sense of the word. It was related to something about preservation of energy- something that allowed them to save their strength to unleash in large bursts when they needed it most- but he didn’t really understand the science behind it, nor did he ever really care to.

He still remembered the first time he’d grasped the concept of it, though. He was much younger then– hadn’t even spent a year as a Shadowknight. It was his first assignment outside of the Nether, his first ‘real’ mission, first responsibility the Shadow Lord had entrusted upon him. (And the few others assigned with him, of course, though he remembered not paying them much mind at all.) They were sent somewhere cold, and there was some small outpost they were supposed to destroy. He didn’t quite know what to expect, but it sounded like a simple job. Maybe even pleasant. It was something he could easily prove himself with, he was sure.

He’d been training for this, after all.

Then he remembered the numbness he’d felt– it made him feel stiff and useless and he hated it. He had never been reminded more of how it felt to be a corpse than in those moments. Not even his lungs dared to move, and his throat felt wired shut. He remembered that feeling of emptiness, so deep he thought it would never work its way out of him. He didn't remember much of his first day of employment, or the day after, though he did remember leaning against his sword, edge cutting slightly into the side of his leg, the pain keeping him rooted and standing upright. He bit his tongue until it bled to keep focused during a briefing, stared at some point in space for so long his vision began spiraling– he had to keep himself from collapsing into it. He tried to keep a constant inventory of the environment around himself after that, to stop it from happening again. It didn’t really help.

The only solution he’d found was to remain constantly transformed, enraged enough that he was always running hot, instead of freezing like his surroundings. (That wasn’t enjoyable either, but it had gotten him used to the feeling of it.) That same uncomfortable feeling had eventually urged on his fellow knights, encouraging them to finish their mission quickly, and the task was done after just a week.

“It’s not like it’ll happen again,” Zenix had told him when he returned. It was the first time something really managed to separate the two of them since they met. “I mean, you know how to deal with it now, right? That’s kind of the point.”

In a way, he was right; it had never been a problem for him since then. He learned over time that Shadowknights deployed to colder areas were typically newer ones, those who the Shadow Lord had wanted to test, or those who were being punished. Learning to deal with the experience was almost like a rite of passage, and a painful reminder for those who were forced to experience it once again.

And after some time, (over two-hundred years of it in fact,) he'd almost forgotten the experience entirely. He’d grown beyond it now; he would never allow himself to stoop so low again.

He was wrong.

He’d never actually been to Pikoro before, but he was at least a little familiar with the land around it. Or at least, familiar with what it used to be like, over fifteen years ago. Things had changed since then, apparently; he had no memory of it ever being so hostile and cold. The land itself seemed to enjoy spiting the laws of climate and nature as he understood them. They spent hours lost in the freezing landscape, estranged from paths that might've been present some years ago, wading through snow that was knee deep and higher in its worst patches. The cold clung to him like water to cloth. And yet, he marched straight forward.

The good thing about bringing up the rear of the group was that people weren't often looking back to check on him.

He stared ahead, the snow beginning to spiral in front of him, and he found himself lost in the pattern…

"-Vylad? Hey buddy, where are you going?"

He blinked. Somehow he'd made his way to the lead of the group. He looked back to see Travis and Aphmau huddled over a map, probably checking to see if there was a single landmark consistent with the blizzard they'd been traveling through. Laurance, however, was directly behind him, and had been trying to get his attention. He noticed Aphmau taking concerned glances over at the two of them, instead of the map.

"Hm?" Vylad tried to tilt his head slightly, and was disappointed to find that even that small movement caused him to ache.

"Do you know where you're headed, or did you just pick a direction and start walking? We were following you for the past ten minutes. You didn't respond before when we asked, so we just assumed..." Laurance seemed somewhat confused and annoyed, but mostly glad to just be getting through to him.

Oh. Oops. It faintly occurred to him that he should’ve perhaps been more concerned about getting the group even more lost, but the thought faded away before he was able to grasp it.

"I... Sorry. I didn't notice. Do you think taking a look at the map for the sixth time would help?"

He didn't mean to sound so sarcastic– at this point it was a genuine question. If looking at the map one hundred times could get them out of here, he would've gladly done it. (And perhaps even a hundred more times after that for good measure.) He typically thought his words over before speaking them aloud, but how they’d be interpreted registered a second too late.

Laurance was, understandably, annoyed with their tone. He was stuck in this storm as well, after all. "What do you think ?"

"I didn't mean it like that." He tried to interrupt beforehand, but even that was slowed.

Vylad took a step towards the two huddled around the map. Or– he tried to, before realizing that not even his legs would obey him anymore. He had stopped moving for too long, and now he couldn't even feel them. He tried to not let it bother him.

But Laurance still had full function of his own legs, at least. He took a step closer and placed a hand lightly on Vylad's shoulder, and they were unable to move or protest. He leaned a little towards him, presumedly to speak more privately, though Vylad was certain it was unnecessary given the volume of the wind around them. (He also confirmed that he was becoming delirious, because for just a split second he was sure Laurance was about to-)

"-ou alright? Hey, you can hear me, right?"

"...What?" His words felt sluggish, like his tongue had stiffened along with his legs. He took a moment to register what Laurance was asking, and put some extra effort into his next words to make them (hopefully) sound more convincing.

"I'm fine."

It took a moment too long for Laurance's taste. "You don't seem fine. You're looking straight through me. Usually, I prefer it when people look at me." He managed a wink, somehow. The gall. How could he manage to joke at a time like this?

He felt the faint brush of another hand on his other arm. "You're freezing. How are you colder than I am?"

They weren't sure if it was a genuine question they should answer. Laurance didn't feel warm to them, anyways. Then again, they could barely feel his hand at all.

"...Do you need a break?" Laurance squeezed his shoulder slightly, presumably trying to keep his attention.

"What? No. If we stop moving, we'll never make it out of this." He wasn't sure how much of it came out as actual words, but Laurance seemed to have understood him. There was another faint voice in the back of Vylad's head that wasn’t convinced he’d make it out of this regardless, but thankfully this thought was lost as well.

"We should be going now, in fact." He continued. He tried once again to take a step, and once again was denied. Typical.

Laurance seemed slightly confused by his actions. Or rather, lack of action. " Okayyy , let me rephrase that. We're taking a break. Unless those two suddenly recognize any landmarks nearby on the map-" Laurance motioned backwards towards Travis and Aphmau, who both hurriedly ducked their heads back down to the map and pretended to not be watching. "-then we're going to backtrack a little. Travis spotted a cave a while back– the rest of us want to try waiting out the storm. Or at least take a break from walking in it."

Well… fine. Sure. That sounded reasonable. He wasn't fond of the idea, but also wasn't about to protest. He tried to nod, but he had grown so numb that he couldn't even tell if his head was moving or not anymore. He searched his brain for a proper response, then for any words at all, but all of those thoughts had faded as well. He had enough presence of mind to manage a short, noncommittal hmph noise.

But Vylad continued not to move, and Laurance's concern for him only seemed to grow. And so he tugged Vylad, gently, to get him started in the right direction. He felt himself move- or more accurately, felt the world move up to meet him-

And then all they could see was white. Snow , their mind helpfully supplied for them, I'm lying in snow. That was a word they could certainly do without. He couldn't hear the wind anymore, though there was a dull, echoing sound coming from... Somewhere. No, not echoing... repeating? A name. His name? He couldn't tell who was saying it. He didn't really care to find out. It didn't matter much, anyways. He couldn't find the energy to care about something so trivial.

Fine, he tried to respond, I'm fine . But nothing came out. The snow glistened unhelpfully in front of him, and the bright edges of it began to fuzz as his eyes began to unfocus. He could only hope whoever kept calling out to him understood. That they'd give him a moment to pick himself up, before they continued on their journey. Or perhaps that they'd leave him there, in the snow. It didn't matter much to him at all, either way. It's funny, they thought, how little everything matters when you're dying. He was suddenly hit with a sickening wave of deja vu. Perhaps if he could still feel his face, he would've laughed.

The heat registered to him before he was even fully conscious. He was sweaty, clammy, could feel fabric sticking to his skin. He felt like he'd been dropped in a volcano with a weight tied to his back, like he was being buried alive while molten hands dragged him down deeper. It was suffocating. Someone was suffocating him.

Get off , he protested, and was met with the feeling of something on his forehead. He wasn’t sure what. "Get off of me," he hissed, managing to speak aloud this time, though the words were all slurred and raspy and mumbled together.

He wasn't sure when he'd opened his eyes, but he was suddenly aware of the space around and in front of himself. He was lying on his back in an unfamiliar bed, in a room he didn't recognize. The ceiling above him was wooden, though the lines between the paneling appeared blurry, and he found it hard to focus on them when he tried. It occurred to him that his eyes were only barely open, but he couldn't find the strength to open them any further. His sight trailed slowly to the side, trying to take in more of the room as if it would give him a hint to wherever the hell he was. He heard the short gasp from a person next to him, and felt them pull away from the space beside him.. From the short, groggy glance he got, she was a young girl wearing dark, baggy clothes, and had a hair color somewhere between brown and red, all pulled over her shoulder in some sort of braid. His eyes never quite found their focus on her face, and she didn't wait for him. The stranger turned away and hurriedly headed out a door that had previously been obscured behind her, letting it slam rather loudly as she exited. The sound of it echoed piercingly in his ears, and something in the back of his head ached.

Where was he? What was he doing here? How did he get here?

He stared absently at the now closed door. The echoing noise from the door was subsiding, but he was quickly becoming aware of the sound of his own harsh breathing, and so the dull, throbbing headache continued. He tried desperately to ignore it, to instead remember what he’d been doing and how he could've ended up here. He had come here to... Oh, Aphmau.

Where was everyone else?

He flinched as something landed on top of his eye- a simple towel the stranger had placed on his forehead before leaving, that he wasn’t conscious enough to comprehend earlier. It had slid off his forehead and now laid awkwardly across his face, obscuring what little sight he had. On top of that, it was hot– it burned just like the blankets he was trapped underneath. He couldn't brush the towel aside, his arms were completely unresponsive, though the failed attempt to move did at least remind him of what he had been doing beforehand.

Had he passed out? He must have. Embarrassing. His first thought after that was, "Good thing Garroth isn't here to tease you about it, you'd never hear the end of it, " immediately followed by "Garroth is gone, why do you care?" He found himself regretting being able to think again, wishing for unconsciousness again– at least that way, he wouldn't have to think about anything.

The idea was just a stray thought, but it began to snowball rapidly. He was suddenly aware of just how tired he felt. He was aware of how every piece of himself felt like it was being pulled down into the earth, aware of just how much effort he was expending to barely remain conscious. It would be so easy to go back to sleep. So easy to never wake up. The thought didn't feel entirely his own, but he couldn't push it out of his mind regardless.

Instead, he tried to focus on something else. He attempted to take another look around the room, but the cloth over his eye made it even harder to focus than before. A ghostly afterimage of it was left across his vision, even though it was only obscuring one eye. There was some sort of pattern in the fibers that caught his attention, though he couldn't quite make out. It was a circle- no, a spiral. The cloth itself was square, and yet, somehow, (did it matter how?) it had been woven like a spiral, and the fibers pulled inward, inward, inward, and it pulled him in with it, infinitely growing smaller, beckoning him forward, falling into nothingness while not moving at all, and-

"Hey buddy."

And then the cloth was gone.

"You're awake, right...? Uh, how are you feeling?"

Everything was too bright now, with the cloth gone. He closed his eyes lightly, (just to regain his bearings was what he told himself,) but that voice sounded so familiar...

Their eyes shot open and they inhaled sharply at the familiar weight of his hand on their shoulder. They recognized that familiar, fire-orange hair and stupidly obnoxious face. They blinked hard, just to make sure they were really seeing things right, then once more just to confirm it. Laurance. Why did it have to be him?

There was a tinge of frustration in Laurance's voice, but nothing that really came through in his words, and his expression was filled with nothing but a tentative concern. He was trying to keep the worry out of his face, and was doing a bad job of it. Vylad didn't see the point in it. There was no one else in the room but the two of them, so why bother? (Was he trying to seem unbothered for their sake? Idiot. He didn't need to . Then again, they hated the fact that Laurance was concerned for them at all.)

It took them a moment to realize Laurance had been talking to them, and a moment longer to remember how to speak again.

"... Bad." He didn’t really feel like lying right now. There was no point in it; not from Laurance, and not from himself either. He figured it was pretty apparent by the involuntary shake to his voice, anyways.

"... Where... are we? Who was that? What happ-" He was interrupted by his own shortness of breath, forced to pause his words to take a terribly strained inhale. He didn't have to look at Laurance to know that his concern for him was only growing. He gritted his teeth and grimaced at the thought. He always tried his best to not have strong opinions on things, because strong opinions always lead to strong emotions, but Irene he hated this.

"Take it easy, alright?" Laurance spoke softly to him, and strangely enough, Vylad found it soothing, much more so than he would normally admit to himself. In a rare moment of weakness, he allowed himself to take comfort in it. His breathing evened out. Just a little bit.

"We're in Pikoro right now," he continued. "All of us. Aphmau and Travis are here too, they're outside talking with Lucinda." He found a chair tucked away in the corner of the room, and brought it over to the bed before sitting down on it. This was a full conversation now, he supposed.

"Lucinda ...?"

"She's, uh, the reason why we came here? She’s a witch, used to be an inhabitant of Phoenix Drop, and Aphmau wanted to find her. You remember that much, right?"

They blinked once, twice. Yes, of course, her name sounded familiar. How could they forget?

"Turns out, she's been keeping an eye out over the storm for people caught in it. Some combination of you passing out and Aphmau going out alone afterwards to find help led her right to us, and then she brought us here. So in a way, we should be thanking you." He was trying to make light of the situation, so Vylad decided not to push it. Although he didn't feel very helpful right now.

"... Right. And the girl is...?"

"You mean the one who was in here earlier? She's Lucinda's apprentice, her name's Hailey. She's the one who came and got me when you woke up– Hey, speaking of which, did you look at her like that when she was in here earlier?"

What? Like what? Had they been staring or something?

Apparently their worry was clear on their face, and so Laurance attempted to clarify. "I just mean, she seemed a little freaked out when she got me, so..."

"... Huh?" This clarified nothing. In fact, it was making his understanding of the situation worse, though he tried not to let it show on his face this time.

"Your eyes. They're red."

… That was…

… supposed to mean something important, he thinks…

Uh…

"... Like, pink eye ...??" He was... certainly less worried, but definitely more confused.

That got a snort out of Laurance, which gave way to a chuckle, breaking Laurance's serious tone for only a moment. Vylad wasn't sure what was so funny.

"No, your pupils. They're red. Instead of green."

Oh.

"Like, in a Shadowknight way."

oh.

"Shit-" He hissed out. It didn't even occur to him- he couldn't even feel it. Normally it was hard for him to not notice this sort of thing. But if this was the only way his body knew how to deal with the cold, then maybe… "Really? Shit. Hold on."

He closed his eyes tightly, tried to focus on the feeling, but when he reached out, all he could find was that pounding headache again. The air starts to catch in his throat again and-

Something in Laurance's grip on his shoulder shifted, and his eyes shot open.

"... Is that- is that better?" he wheezed, ignoring how scarily close he had been to unconsciousness. "I can't... tell."

Laurance waited until Vylad caught his breath to respond. "... Nnnot really." Shit . "But hey, you're sick. It's fine if you can't control that right now."

Was that supposed to be comforting?

"That is... not fine..." He was back to breathing normally– at least, as normally as he could right now– so why did his voice still sound so shaky?

"I know it sucks, but I don't think there's much you can do about it right now. Just– try not to worry about it, and-"

"And what, " Vylad snapped, "It'll just- magickally stop being an issue? You should know better than anyone–" He managed to cut himself off. The words had come out so fast, so loud . It wasn't yelling, but given how he normally spoke it might as well have been. What was he even saying? The words hadn't quite felt like his, and yet it was still his mouth that had spoken them. He could feel it now, his eyes faintly burning, and he realized he was only making it worse. Laurance's hand left his shoulder. He wished he was actually being dragged down into the earth, because at least that way he wouldn't be here.

"I... sorry. I'm- sorry, I didn't..." His voice had become a whisper. "... You shouldn't have to see that." They looked as far away from Laurance as they could, making sure they couldn't even see him in the corner of their eye. There was still a tremble to their voice, but it was different now. Laurance had never heard them sound so... scared.

A moment passed in silence.

(Or maybe it was an hour. Vylad couldn't tell).

"... I don’t think I can go out like this. Sorry. You might have to handle Pikoro on your own."

"Wh- Yeah, you think?? " The stupidity of his statement broke the tension immediately. (For Laurance, at least.) "Can you even walk right now?"

Vylad stayed silent. The correct answer was 'no,' but he wasn't about to admit that. Laurance understood anyway. He chuckled softly, and to Vylad's dismay, ruffled his hair. Now it was all pointed in the wrong direction, and some of it had awkwardly fallen into his eyes, but he didn't have enough feeling in his arms to do anything about it. At least, not on his own…

Instead, he did the only thing he could: channel all his displeasure into a single, piercing, disgruntled stare.

Laurance got the message, but it only sent him into a fit of laughter. “ What -” he managed to squeak out through his amusement, “-is something wrong?”

“There is hair. In my eyes.”

“There definitely is.”

“Fix it.”

Laurance gasped, feigning offense, putting a hand to his chest. “Not even a please? Jeez, who raised you?”

But despite his playful protests, he did indeed start fixing it. He pushed the strands back out of their eyes and carefully, combed through their hair, and oh this was worse. The gentle little intimacies he was powerless to stop. They needed to think about something else right now, because they were just delirious enough where they could maybe start enjoying this.

“... I don’t get it.” He finally managed to mumble.

“Hm?”

“Why I’m-… you should be sick, too.”

Laurance only tilted his head, still messing with their hair. Vylad was forced to continue.

“It’s- we’re Shadowknights. We can’t regulate our own temperature like how normal people can. You weren’t even cold.”

Laurance scoffed. “Maybe not cold compared to you, sure, but you literally have hypothermia. What’s your point?”

“My point is that I’m bed-bound, and you aren’t.”

Laurance chuckled softly, but that did get him to stall for a moment. He glanced away from Vylad for a bit, clearly thinking something over.

“...I think you put too much thought into the whole ‘Shadowknight’ thing.”

The ease with which he said it put some kind of expression on Vylad’s face. Probably not a pleased one. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying. If Shadowknights are supposed to do bad in cold or whatever, then just… stop thinking like a Shadowknight, and start thinking like a human. That’s what I do.” He punctuated it with a shrug, like he had suggested the easiest thing in the world. Vylad wasn’t even entirely sure what he meant.

Their brows furrowed. “Tell that to me when my eyes aren’t burning.”

“Hey- I’m serious, you know! It’s not a joke– sometimes I just…” He slowed down his speech a little when he realized he’d reached something a little more personal, but doesn’t stop speaking. “... start thinking about all the people I care about. Like what I think they’re up to right now, or what we’ll do together when we get back- and then I feel more… me.”

Vylad huffed. It was a sweet sentiment, at least. “That’s nice. But I know that trick already. And no amount of thinking about family should be able to change your internal biology.”

“Well it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but. I mean, have you tried?”

“I– yes. I have.” Of course he did. Constantly. Every day. He wouldn’t be where he was now without it. Thinking about them was the only thing that made him feel like something more than a corpse, sometimes.

That clearly wasn’t a good enough answer for Laurance. “Hm. Maybe…” He had finally gotten too distracted to keep futzing with their hair, but they weren’t sure they liked where this conversation was headed much better. “I mean- when’s the last time you actually saw your family?”

“I- wait, I didn’t- family?” How’d he know it was family? Did he know? Did he know everything? When-

“I mean, I just said ‘people you care about’ before. You’re the one who specified family.”

Oh. Had they really? They hadn’t meant to. Oops.

“... Regardless,” they continued swiftly, trying to push past that blunder, “I don’t see how that would help anything.”

“You don’t see how spending time with people you care about would be good for you?”

Ah.

“... You have seen them since you got out of the Nether, right?”

Uh oh.

They tried very hard to keep their face blank. Maybe a little too hard.

“... Dude.”

Definitely too hard. “I-”

They were just talking over each other now. “After we’re done in Pikoro, you really should-”

“-It’s not that simple , I can’t just-” He could feel himself getting worked up again. “I can’t. ” He found enough strength in him to actually turn his head to the side this time. And if he was smart, he would have left it at that, but unfortunately he didn’t have quite as much of a functioning brain right now. “There’s a lot of people who aren’t as lucky as you.”

He knew it wasn’t fair as soon as he said it. And though he couldn’t see how Laurance’s expression had changed with his head turned to the wall, he could feel it in the silence that passed over the room once again that maybe Laurance had never once felt lucky, even though he tried very hard to look like it.

“I…sorry. Again. I keep snapping at you. I- We both know that’s not…” Usually he’s better at this. Even on the worse days, he could still manage to keep the less pleasant bits in. What was wrong with him? (Hypothermia, probably.) “I don’t… it might keep happening, until I get this… uh… better.” That didn’t even make sense. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

He kept expecting Laurance to just leave. He really should’ve, at this point. He’s got to have gone too far this time. But maybe the guy wheezing out apologies from his sickbed wasn’t quite as hurtful as he thought he might be.

Laurance pats his shoulder, snapping him back out of his thoughts. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Come on, three apologies is just excessive. Trust me, I understand. If anything, it’s good to know that I’m not the only one who gets snappy when I’m feeling… uh… Shadowknight-y.” And then he lets out a sigh, like ‘Can you believe this guy? Here goes Vylad, saying stupid stuff again! How silly!’

It would be easier if he was just mad at him. That, he would understand. He didn't get how he could just bounce back from everything so unfazed.

But, despite it all, Laurance wasn’t mad. And Vylad wasn’t mad, either. Just worn out.

“I… think I’m just… tired. Or… something.”

“Oh- oops, right- I was just supposed to check on you. I’m probably keeping you awake, huh?”

Vylad finally gathered the courage to sneak a glance back over at Laurance. He had that stupid grin on his face again. They hated it when he did that. Definitely hated it.

“Do you want me to leave so you can rest? You probably need it. You seem a bit better than you did when I first came in, but you still look pretty terrible.”

And despite all that. Despite everything.

He didn't want him to leave.

He really didn't.

But…

“... That sounds smart.”

He couldn't hold him here forever, right?

Laurance shifted in his seat. “How about this? I’ll go let Aphmau know you’re doing better, and then we’ll go help Lucinda with whatever thing she needs helping with, because there’s always something, and then I’ll be back here to update you on everything that happens. Alright? Sorry- you’ll be missing all the action, but I don’t think you’d want any of it in a state like this.”

He really hoped that Laurance didn’t somehow recognize his loneliness from his words… but the promise that he’d be back did help. He took a deep breath in and out, closing his eyes and then opening them slowly.

“... Okay.”

He gave Vylad’s shoulder one last pat. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.” Then he stood up, gently pushing the chair out and back to the corner of the room he found it in. “I’ll be back soon, ok?”

He exited as quietly as he entered, carefully closing the door so it didn’t shut loudly. And just like that, he was gone. The room was empty once again. (Empty except for himself, of course.)

It was shockingly hard for him to fall back asleep after that. He was tired, his entire body ached, but he couldn't do anything but lie awake and think.

So he lies there.

And he thinks.

And he wonders what his mother is up to, right about now.

Notes:

once again a big thank you to char @awkwardfantasy aaron @disabledknockout, and cupid @boodles-of-noodles. Loves art for this fic will be linked/inserted here when its done!

also check out the other fics for the bigbang either through the collection here/through the @minecraftdiariesbigbang tumblr, theyre all awesome and everyone did a great job teehee. you can find more from me at @vyladromeave on tumblr (you are here. hello.) and @aiki.art on instagram. ok by now thank you!!!!!!

#minecraft diaries #aphmau #aphmau minecraft diaries #vylad ro'meave #laurance zvahl #vylance #i usedto have a writing tag i dont remember it anymore oops #aikiwrite #mcd #aphmau fanart #aphmau fanfic #aphmau fandom #minecraft diaries fanfic #aikidoart #wahtever. all the tags.

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