The tangled mess of anxiety in his chest is almost making it hard to breathe.
He can’t remember the last time he felt like this. Most of his problems can be solved with a sword or through talking, but–
This time, it's all out of his hands. He can’t affect anything.
Maybe the last time he was this weak and useless was when he was facing down Darkza, then mutilated and forced to hear Dee be robbed of his wings.
A bluejay and a falcon. Dee's wings had been a beautiful chocolate color, sleek and silent. Theo's own had been vibrant and glorious, bringing him up above the clouds with his Dad.
Then those wings were taken from them by a cruel, vindictive man. So much was taken from them that day, and in the years to come.
The losses had been almost more than they could take.
But they escaped. They're free now– free to be happy, free to be safe.
Free to have actual friends, too. Maybe even a partner, someday.
Yet they're not really free, are they? They're entertainment for a pair of gods.
Gods who have proven themselves to be cruel and capricious.
He jumps when he hears a static-y laugh.
Oh, boy, aren't you just a ball of sunshine!
Shit.
No need to look so dismayed. Or, well, you probably won't like this. So maybe it is justified!
Wary, he asks, “And…what can I help you with, Showrunner?”
Well, y'see, I'm a little peeved! A certain clever little mortal decided to make a deal with someone else! Can you believe the nerve of that?!
Fuck. He may have tried to appeal to The Scribe's ego, but he didn't account for The Showrunner taking offense.
He laughs nervously. “I…see. Uh– real…real fuckin’ bold, that mortal.”
Scribs wouldn't like it if I broke their mortal, so I can't show you the true meaning of terror.
Their voice is cold and bitter. The threat makes him shudder, wings curling around himself.
He's not stupid enough to think he'll escape their wrath entirely.
Swallowing, he asks, “S– so…what happens, then?”
You're lucky, Theseus. Being bold is a quality I don't dislike. What's going to happen is that I'm going to make you an offer. You can refuse it…but we both know you won't.
AFTER ALL, I KNOW YOUR WEAKNESS. NOTHING SAYS I CAN'T MAKE THEM SUFFER IN YOUR PLACE.
His heart drops.
Fuck, fuck, fuck–
So, with that in mind, I'll be generous and give you a fancy warning system! You'll be able to check the bastard's mental health. In exchange, you won't be able to explain that side of the deal and you'll see both his and Aster’s lives! Oh, and they may see yours as well.
There could be infinitely worse terms.
He gives a bow, trying not to show his fear or anger. “...Thank you for your mercy. I'll accept, n’ remember not to overstep again.”
Hmph. See that you do that.
Theo feels the presence of the Showrunner fade, leaving just the observers.
He collapses onto his bed, almost dizzy with relief he wasn't subjected to worse.
Gods don't like their egos being bruised. He knew that, and yet–
Fuck, though. He may very well end up triggering Daz into another spiral.
Keeping it a secret won't help, so...
Well. He supposes he'll be talking with the two of them soon.
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Aster gets the distinct impression that the Showrunner is upset at him.
That, or they just think that making him lose to Theo five times in less than an hour is the height of comedy.
He curses to himself, rubbing his throat– leave it to Theo to go for his neck so often– as he flops onto a nearby bench.
His best friend seems concerned. Given he’s come over to the training area in Summer Hills instead of working his anxiety out at the training hall, that’s a fair response.
“You’re kinda shit today,” Theo notes.
Instead of thinking about how he keeps seeing visions of what they’ll look like at some point– candy-sweet domestic bliss, the three of them obviously in love and enjoying every moment of it– he grumbles, “So sue me for being distracted.”
Theo shifts, his wings flicking anxiously. “...Trouble in fuckin’ paradise already?”
“What? No, we’re going on a date tonight. Everything is fine with us.”
Why the fuck would Theo assume things were bad with Daz?
He reminds his friend, “He didn’t see me cheating on him with you.” “You’re both being real fuckin’ cagey about it, so…I dunno, I feel like you’re both lying.”
Aster winces. “I mean…Daz is, uh. Needing…some time. To admit it. ‘Cause it’s– kind of a lot.”
“That’s so fuckin’ sus,” Theo groans, plopping onto the bench next to him. “The fuck does he have to be concerned about?”
More than Theo can ever fathom. “...Future might have changed,” he says, knowing Daz might get mad at him for admitting even that much.
Theo looks concerned. “D’you two not get–” “No, we– we do. It’s…” he chews on his lip.
This is such a dangerous path. The fuck can he even do to appease Daz, assuming he missteps?
“We’re– we still get married,” he finally settles on.
His friend’s head cocks to the side. “Then why the fuckin’ weirdchamp shit?”
It seems like Theo listens to the Fates, because he frowns. “Kid you two have still exists, right? I was kinda interested in being an uncle.”
Aster blinks, and he’s in another vision.
He boggles at the sight of not one, but three kids flinging themselves at future-Theo.
Two girls, one younger boy. The girls both have gorgeous bluejay-like wings, though the boy doesn’t.
Future-Theo scoops all three into his arms, beaming at them. “Kids!” “Dad, dad! Doctor Aryll said my wings are gonna come in soon!”
Visibly thrilled, Future-Theo asks, “Yeah? You ready to go flying with your old man, uncles, n’ grandpa?” “Yep! Grandpa keeps saying he can teach me if you don’t wanna, though.”
“Dad can fuck off, you’re my kids. I’m gonna teach you all myself,” Future-Theo grumbles.
Future-Daz teases, “You sulk every time he brings it up.” “He had his fuckin’ turn, n’ again– my kids,” Future-Theo complains.
The future version of Aster snorts, “And here we were, thinking you’d be less overprotective.” “Shut. Now, Boreas, did Aryll say about how much longer it’d be?”
And that’s all that Aster gets.
He stares into space, and then says, “Three?!”
“Huh?” “Three kids, with wings! Who the fuck even– I don’t even know anyone with bluejay wings, let alone a woman,” Aster groans, raking a hand through his hair.
Theo freezes. “You two have kids with fuckin’ bluejay wings?” “Apparently!” “That’s…”
His friend’s brow furrows. It’s like he’s trying to put the pieces together.
“...Aster, if I fuckin’ guess what you saw, you’d tell me if I’m right– right?”
…Fuck. If he guesses directly, it’d be kind of a dick move to say no.
He grimaces. “Uh…maybe. It– yeah. If it’s…close enough. Daz just– needs some time, so–”
Theo grabs his shoulders, making him jolt in surprise.
Hands gripping him tightly, Theo demands, “You two keep fuckin’ seeing me with you, don’t you? N’ that’s why you’re both being so fuckin’ weird about it.”
Damnit.
He averts his gaze. “Please don’t say anything to Daz. He’s– uh, he’s actually deeply insecure. I had to strongarm him into telling you after a week, so…”
A noise of distress escapes Theo, whose head thunks onto his shoulder.
Aster frowns. “Theo?”
“...Three kids, huh?” “...Yeah. I– it looks like you’re really happy to be their dad.” “Never fuckin’ pictured myself in a…marriage? We get married?”
“Seems like it. We all have earcuffs that look like wedding jewelry.” “Bet Dad’d love being a grandpa.”
Awkwardly, Aster pats his back. “He apparently kept offering-slash-threatening to teach them how to fly–” “Absolutely fuckin’ not, I’d teach my kids myself,” Theo snaps, sounding affronted.
“Which you got mad about.”
A grumble escapes Theo, who seems sullen.
After a moment, his best friend asks, “So…what if I’m– not really fuckin’...sure about that?” “As in?”
Theo pulls back, seeming uncharacteristically serious. “I dunno that I really want to get into a– relationship. Feels…weird. N’ with both of you…”
Aster resists the pang of hurt he feels. It’s not even like he seriously considered it before, so it doesn’t shock him that Theo is hesitant.
He shrugs. “I mean– things changed once, right? So…enough time and big enough ripples, they’ll probably change again.”
“N’ if you see something where you’re not with Daz?”
That feels impossible. “Then I’ll fight against that future. I’m pretty set on being with him now. Even if the details change, I want to be at his side. He’s complicated and deeply traumatized, but…I think I like the futures I’ve seen with him. I think I like seeing him so happy to be with me, too.”
With a snort, he adds, “And, uh, I’m kinda hooked on his cooking? It’s– it’s really nice, actually. I’m not really used to food being so…thought about. Or sharing it like that with someone else. He keeps threatening to make clothes for me, too, which is sweet.”
In this new future, Daz has a carved bangle that’s clearly from Aster. Given the disparity between the two timelines, maybe it’d be better to just…make something similar but different.
Enough to prove he’s not being lazy about it, and whatnot.
Daz would probably cry if he gave him something like that. The insecurity would ease, because he’d be proving that he’s not discarding Daz for Theo.
Assuming it ever happens, Aster would accept nothing less than all three of them being on equal footing in the relationship.
“He’s a good guy, though. Even if you decide not to be with us like that…he’d still end up basically your brother in law. You might as well get to know him better.”
Theo sighs deeply. “It’s…yeah, I fuckin’ guess. Just– weird. Didn’t think any of us would ever…”
A flash of annoyance shoots through Aster. “Apparently, people keep asking him out.”
“...Daz?”
Aster rolls his eyes. “According to him, he turns people down all the time. Something about being the primary support for refugees?”
Theo grimaces. “Ah…yeah, the hero worship shit. When you put it like that…yeah, I fuckin’ know what that's like. Kinda annoying, actually? N’ I guess he did mention he has to fuckin'-- turn people down a lot…”
Uhg, right. “True, you have a lot of experiences with people asking you out.” “Lots've ‘em in life-or-death situations, too! Weird as shit.”
His friend squints. “Wait, didn't you say he's stupid fuckin’ rich?” “I didn't know it was possible for anyone to have as much money as he does.” “N’ he's a good cook.” “Better than your dad, and I don't say that lightly.” “N’ powerful as fuck in a bunch've ways.”
…Goddamnit, he's starting to see Theo's angle. “Fuck, he's actually a crazy good catch. I mean, I knew he was– really great, but not everyone has seen what I have. So I just– I guess, subconsciously, I assumed nobody else has thought about it…?”
Theo snorts, but his amusement quickly turns serious. “Aster…man, you know you can't walk away, right? If you choose him, I mean. If Daz is so fuckin’ fragile he tried to kill himself over what you were seeing…? I don't wanna fuckin’ know how hard he'd snap if you left.”
Theo sounds genuinely concerned.
As much as Aster knows he's right to make sure the stakes are clear…it stings to think that Theo would assume he would abandon Daz.
“We're both loyal to the death. I've seen a softer side to him lately– a side I want to keep seeing. I'm not planning on leaving. I– I've seen what abandonment does to admins. To him.”
A cold sweat runs down his spine at the thought of how Daz tore himself in half to be good enough for his own family.
If Aster broke his heart, the best case scenario would be if Daz became his mortal enemy.
Worst case scenario…Daz would seek the ultimate refuge.
Even if that wasn't the case, he would shatter everything about himself to become whoever, whatever, Aster wanted.
Because Daz is lonely. Even in a sea of people, he feels isolated. He doesn't think the real him is worthy of love or kindness.
At the same time, he’s desperate for affection. He's starved himself of touch out of a misplaced fear it would hurt others.
Strangling his soul in exchange for love would be easy. He would pour himself into a mould so lovely that Aster would be smitten– lie until even Daz himself believed it.
He shudders. Even if he would never want that, Daz might think he needs to do it to earn love.
Theo’s hand grips his shoulder. “Aster? You okay, man?”
“Daz could break so easily. It scares me. I want him to be happy. I– I want us to be happy. I want…I'm kind of warming up to the idea of eventually being a dad.”
He sees himself, gently swaying and cradling young, fussy kid in his arms. “Shh, shh. It's just a nightmare, Hemera.”
“But, but, woke up, n’, everyone was, was gone–!”
A kiss is pressed to a mop of golden curls. “Aurora was just in the bathroom, and you know that Mama, Daddy and I are always right down the hall. Plus, all your uncles, your grandpa, Lucid, even San…there’s a whole server out there. The whole world would end before you'd be alone, sweetheart. And we love you too much to let that happen, hmm? We love you too much to leave you all alone.”
Future-Daz, who was watching from the doorway with the other little girl dozing in his arms, melts at how much he likes seeing future-Aster comforting their daughter.
Aster blinks a few times. “Aurora, Hemera, Boreas.” “Huh?” “The kids. I think Aurora and Hemera might be twins…? Boreas is younger.”
Theo’s head cocks to the side. “Dawn, day, n’ the north wind? Interesting fuckin’ choices for gods.”
“Dawn makes sense; gold, stars faintly there, and the sky. It's the three of us combined. Not sure about the others…?”
Oh, wait. Aster points out, “North wind.” “Ah, yeah. N’ it's also the winter wind.”
“What a cruel father, to set our poor son up for snowflake jokes for the rest of his like,” Aster teases. “Or maybe you like being called that, huh?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Theo grumbles, visibly sulking.
If he really thinks about it…Aster can see how they'd work together as a trio.
He and Theo are already close– best friends, and as many people say, cut from the same cloth.
Aster knows Theo pretty damn well. He knows that Daz, the real Daz, would fascinate him.
If it were just Theo and Aster, very little would change in their dynamic.
But with Daz in the mix, he'd strongarm both of them into shutting up. The ruthless, clever man Aster is increasingly seeing the charms of would coax and threaten them as needed, until they did whatever he wanted.
He sees just a flash of all three of them cuddled up in what looks like Daz’s bed.
Both he and Theo are messing with that fluffy blond hair, Daz completely conked out between them…and Theo’s wing draped over top of them.
Huh. Yeah, once Daz gets past the stage of jealousy, he'd probably be very interested in having a second fanatically loyal husband.
God knows Daz melts into physical affection from those he trusts, and Theo is used to giving affection to loved ones pretty freely.
There's a sigh from Theo. “Eh. No fuckin’ point stressing about the names. Bigger fish to fry– I have questions why the fuck I'm the bio dad!”
Aster frowns. “Why would you think that?”
Theo stares at him. “The fuck d'you think made me figure it out? My original fuckin’ wings were bluejay ones! I have Dad's wings now, but those aren't genetic!”
That's…not right.
“That doesn't make sense.” “There’s no reason to fuckin’ lie about–” “No, I mean– that makes sense. I don’t think you're lying. But the kids seem like admins. Eyes are all really vibrant– which I'm pretty sure is a sign of that.”
He's pretty confident they're admins, but it's such a weird thing to pair with the wings.
…Wait.
“Daz is an admin.” “...Yeah, kinda a big fuckin’ deal.” “Admins can do impossible shit.”
Theo’s brow furrows, and then his eyes go wide. “Wait. Are you fuckin’ assuming–” “He's exactly stubborn enough to find a way to– to let you both be the bio parents.”
It actually makes a lot of sense in that context; neither Lucid nor Lee would stop Daz from doing…whatever process that would entail.
Huh. It's…sort of weird, sure, but knowing Daz…it's shockingly plausible.
It makes the most sense for it to be the two of them, anyway. As far as Aster is aware, he's just a normal human.
Both of his eventual partners would get so much more out of being the biological parents than Aster would; not just because of what they are, but who they are.
He does think he wants kids, sure.
But the kids having his genes is– would it be nice? Probably, sure!
Daz, however, deserves to raise kids who are admins. Theo would be thrilled to raise kids who could eventually fly.
He's stared at. “That's fuckin’ crazy.” “I'm actually fairly sure he could do it.” “Lot've faith in him.”
Aster snorts. “I got a peek in his head when he coded something on the fly. It's…hard to think he's not smart enough for it after that.”
A long, tired sigh comes from Theo. His friend stretches his legs out one way and his wings another.
Weird to think that he may raise kids with wings.
In a good way, obviously. In a way that, despite how unfamiliar it is, he feels a sense of bittersweet yearning for.
…His arms feel a little empty. Like something that's meant to be there isn't.
He's pretty sure he knows what that thing is.
Shaking his head a bit, he says, “I think you'd like Daz, the real Daz, if you gave him a chance. No matter if you end up with us or not, I plan to stay with him. You should get to know him.”
Theo groans, scrubbing a hand over his hair. “Feels fuckin’ weird!” “I'm not saying you have to fall in love. But…”
Aster shrugs. “He's going to be an even bigger part of my life. Kinda weird for you to keep my partner at arm's length, y'know?”
He knocks their shoulders together. “You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t tell you to make nice with someone you'd hate.”
“It’s– it's just real fuckin’ weirdchamp, man! I'm not real used to you two being…together.” “Neither am I, honestly. But it's…”
He smiles to himself, thinking about the candy-sweet life he's gotten glimpses of. He wouldn't have considered being with anyone, especially not Daz…
But, gods, he’s already a little charmed by him. Stubborn, clever, mercurial, damaged Daz; someone just as fiercely and fanatically loyal as Aster, someone who has suffered in silence out of a misplaced sense of guilt.
Aster finds himself wanting to shore up the walls of Daz’s heart and mind. Not to close people out, but rather to be stable enough to let people in.
Even now, he sort of wants to go bother Daz at work. Surely there's something he can do to help out, right…? Some little task he can do to ease what he's pretty sure is a Sisyphean work load.
He's heard Raine, Aleph, and Khons all complain about how much there is to do, so he's reasonably sure there's more than his wildest estimates.
…Actually, he’s pretty sure he’s only heard Daz complain about people doing things he doesn't like.
If Daz has complained about his job otherwise, it wasn't to Aster.
However, Daz has admitted that he was overworking himself well past the point of exhaustion to try and sleep, so that doesn't mean much.
He knows Daz, or at least his work ethic. For a long time, that was one of the only things that Aster could bring himself to praise.
Hmm. Maybe…he should plan to go in at some point.
There's a shove against his side. When he looks over, Theo has bumped him with his wing.
Rolling his eyes, his best friend says, “You look like all fuckin’ lovesick.” “I'm shocked you can put a name to that.” “Oi, fuck off! I was just sayin'--”
There's a long sigh, Theo rubbing the back of his neck. “You have your date later, right? Orph has talked about the fuckin’ Welcome Wagon hours enough that I'm pretty fuckin’ sure he'll be off soon. You should go…I dunno, do you even have nice clothes…?”
There's a brief vision of himself trying something on in Daz’s sewing room.
“I think I will be, soon,” he says, feeling a little excited about that fact.
Maybe he should figure out what exactly a claim looks like to Daz.
If Aster is in it for the long haul– and he is– then it's only right to declare those intentions in the right way.
He nudges Theo back, grinning widely. “Thanks, Theo.”
“For…?”
“Being my best friend. And, uh, being chill with…everything. I'm going to make sure that he never feels trapped again. Even if you decide not to join us, I hope you'll be proud of my efforts to make him happy.”
There's an unreadable expression on Theo’s face, before it shifts into a smile. Slinging an arm and a wing over his shoulders, Theo tells him, “You'd better. I'm gonna be real fuckin’ pissed if shit goes south n’ you're both miserable. But for– joining you two…”
The warrior makes a face. “I dunno. Maybe, eventually…? But you said he's real fuckin’ insecure, n’ it'd be– real, real fuckin’ weirdchamp to do that right now. Need to sort my own fuckin’ thoughts out, n’ whatnot. Even if I did wanna do that, it's kinda…fast. I'd rather give it some fuckin’ time, let you two figure out if you want it.”
Why wouldn't they? If it's the current future, then of course they'd accept him.
Theo sighs. “Future clearly isn't set in stone. Just ‘cause you see it doesn’t mean it has to fuckin’ pass. We've got…agency n’ shit, yeah? So…maybe one or more've us isn't okay with that. I dunno, maybe I decide I wanna be monogamous or never be with fuckin’ anyone at all. Maybe Daz isn't comfortable sharing you– maybe the reality of us being together isn't any good for you, either.”
…Huh. Theo has already given it a lot of thought, hasn't he?
Well, he can’t really say that any of that is wrong. He knows he wants to be with Daz, but beyond that…he's willing to keep an open mind, if nothing else.
“You’re right. I might’ve jumped the gun a little. I'll have to tell Daz I admitted what happened, but…maybe after the date. So, uh…if you get a sudden demand to meet, that'd be why.”
Daz is going to be furious, but Aster didn't see a point in lying to Theo when he guessed correctly and would be hearing about it soon anyway.
And Daz feeling insecure doesn't have to be a big problem now, right? Aster is going to do his best at all that sappy, romantic shit.
Given the nature of the information they're dealing with, the decision was made to drag Vio and Lucid into the mix as well.
Aster is relieved that Daz agreed to do so. He’s even more relieved that because Lucid is involved, they can't meet in the secluded bunker of the Council HQ.
It's a dual-purpose meeting. Firstly and most importantly, they need to share the information they learned about the Showrunner.
Not just the new stuff– though those bombshells are, of course, the driving force of this. The older information that the Council is aware of will have to be shared, too.
Secondly, though…they need to figure out how to free Innit.
Regardless of Daz’s stance on the matter, leaving Innit trapped isn't an option.
For one, it's unimaginably inhumane. Innit clearly just wants to be able to do basic things. Its willing to be enchanted with loyalty to be able to do something as simple as look where it wants to and read books.
Daz and Innit being forced to stay together like that is a recipe for disaster, too. Innit can't get therapy when it doesn't have a voice, after all.
Plus its already proven willing to punish Daz. If it decided to go nuclear…what could they really do to stop it, bar putting Daz in a coma?
So, yeah. Innit deserves to be free, and Daz deserves to have his head to himself again.
…Even if that’s a bit hypocritical for Aster to want for him.
Their chosen gathering place is the Welcome Wagon. It's meant for discussions, there aren't currently any people in the rooms upstairs, and all four employees are a part of the meeting.
The first matter of business is to give Vio a brief rundown of Daz, the Council, and associated information.
Daz is the one who starts the main topic, and he does so by projecting a drawing of the Showrunner on the screen.
Raine’s style is immediately obvious, at least to Aster.
Deadly serious, Daz says, “This is the Showrunner. What we knew as the Scribe– that entity is someone else entirely. Their name was just…borrowed. Aster and I– we met the Showrunner.”
Aster adds, “Innit, too.” “Are you seriously still– this is fucking important!”
He snaps back, “Can you stop being petty for like five seconds? Its presence there was kind of a big deal! The Showrunner likes your admin half, asshole! We can't ignore that fact!”
Daz glares at him a moment, then turns to the others. “The bigger piece of info is that Time isn't real.”
Day, Vio, and Theo all look incredulous. “They’re very fuckin’ real, don't say shit like that,” Theo tells them. It’s a warning, because to Theo that kind of disrespect is liable to earn the wrath of a god.
Since Theo is not only a mythology buff but has met several gods…if anyone has reason to be twitchy about that sort of thing, it's him.
He is the that started the knock-on-wood trend of assuring Time that any potentially negative thing is said without any negativity, too.
“I'll humor this if you can explain who the fuck we've done– everything for. If you can't, I'm walking out right now,” Day warns.
It’s clear he’s not kidding about that.
Aster takes a deep breath and says, “The Scribe, apparently. The Showrunner claimed that Time was just a ‘sockpuppet’ to be used as the Scribe needed.”
He grimaces. “Which, I mean…if the two of them are working together, and the Showrunner is the one behind the questions and Observers…”
Theo suddenly straightens up in a way that Aster realizes means he’s actually using his head. When he wants to, Theo can be smart…he just generally doesn’t bother to want that.
“Are you fuckin’ sure the one who was chatting with us was the Showrunner? Not the Observers, but the fuckin’-- the other shit. You two must know what I mean, yeah?”
Daz’s expression is grim. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”
A soft hiss escapes from Theo as he slumps backwards. He scrubs a hand down his face and looks to Day.
“They fuckin’-- first time we heard them, you remember what they said? We fuckin’ pointed out that Time would be pissed, n’--”
Realization visibly washes over Day as he finishes, “And they laughed. That we ‘weren’t supposed to know’, but it was still funny that we’d try to get Time involved.”
“Fuckin’ shit.”
That’s a sentiment that Aster can fully get behind. None of this is remotely fun to learn, and in fact radically alters what they assumed were core facets of their lives.
Lucid looks stricken. “What are we even supposed to do with this info, anyway?”
Rolling his eyes, Daz tells him, “You? Nothing. But given your position and how big of a deal this is, I can’t justify keeping you out of the loop.”
There’s a long beat, and then Daz adds, “And I wasn’t going to bring anyone else to the Council rooms. If it’s not a full secret from you, it’s pointless to shut you out.”
Aster sighs. “Yeahhhh. The Council HQ is kind of special to us.” “You’ve always hated how it looks,” Daz scoffs. Aster rolls his eyes and tells him, “Yeah, well, it’s grown on me. Kind of hard for it not to, with how much time I spend there.”
“This is so fucking weird,” Lucid mumbles.
Raine pats his shoulder and tells him, “You’ll get used to it. They fight constantly.”
“For fucked up reasons, apparently,” Khons reminds them.
“Do I want to–” “It’s literally none of your business,” Daz hisses at the admin.
Lucid shrinks down in his seat, hands raised defensively. “Okay, not asking then!”
Daz scrubs a hand through his hair as he swipes the screen to show the next image. “This is the Showrunner’s domain. I have no fucking idea how useful knowing this will be, but I’m not leaving something like that on the table.”
Aster studies the art piece for a moment. It’s very close to what he remembers– Daz’s memory and Raine’s skill are an excellent combo.
He says, “The seats seemed like they stretched forever. A few were occupied, but only two were clearly taken. The figures had different levels of definition and the Showrunner called them ‘representations of the audience’. I’m…guessing those are Observers.”
With a nod, Daz confirms, “If I had to make a theory…the more clear they are, the more frequently they show up.”
He reaches up and smacks a hand on one of the solid ones in what seemed like the VIP section.
“One of these two is probably the new one who’s been an asshole.”
Aster grimaces. “Speaking of Observers…” “There’s no need to bring up–”
Ignoring the bastard, Aster continues, “Innit needs to be given a body. Keeping it there goes beyond caution and into inhumane. It fucked up, yes, but– shit, didn’t all of us do that, too? Half of Sanctuary are war criminals in some capacity!”
Theo immediately argues, “It’d fuckin’ attack Lee, wouldn’t it?”
Aster shakes his head. “No. It– Theo, I spoke to it. I saw a– a timelapse of its entire life. Before the Observers came, the only people who knew about it were Dream and Daz. Both of them hurt it deeply.”
He gestures at Daz, continuing, “You’re asking a fully sentient and sapient person to be trapped with someone who tortured it for three years. Daz didn’t just ignore it, Theo– he shut it out entirely. He trapped it in a room and left it to rot.”
“It put me in a coma because I refused to kill a child,” Daz snaps. “A child it still hates!”
“I believe it wants freedom more than it wants revenge,” Aster argues.
Day’s arms fold across his chest. “How can we trust that? How can we trust it won’t try anything?”
Aster stares him in the eyes. “It said it would willingly be enchanted with loyalty, as long as I was the one it was bound to.”
The room is quiet.
“Day– you know how bad Daz’s enchantment was. The fact that it wants freedom so badly that it would be the one to suggest that…”
Daz tells them, “It couldn’t feel it. It’s never had any senses beyond sound and sight.”
Hands thrown wide for emphasis, Aster snaps, “And you think that isn’t fucking horrifying?! It wants to choose where to look, Daz! To be able to listen to the music it wants or eat or walk outside!”
Aster huffs at that.
“The reason I got on this topic is because Innit has at least three Observers it considers friends. I saw them as animals with a silvery-lavender swirly color–”
Vio sighs softly. “Same as the portals. No wonder you realized the connection.”
Sneering, Daz corrects, “No, this dipshit didn’t put the pieces together himself.”
Choosing to ignore that particular jab, Aster continues, “And, again; the Showrunner likes Innit. They sure as fuck don’t like Daz, but they– literally gave his admin half headpats. And squished its cheeks.”
He points out, “As cynical as it sounds? We have a person who the omnipotent ruler of time and reality is fond of. That same person is, as most of this room just heard–”
“I fuckin’ heard it too,” Theo tells him. “Fuckin’ Observers love it back. Enough to ask for it to be treated fuckin’ nice.”
Aster nods. “Either we have someone with all that weight behind them on our side, or we make an enemy out of all of them.”
“Innit wants to see Sanctuary burn,” Daz tries to tell them. “It fucking hates every single person here, and none more than Lee.”
Eyes narrowing, Aster argues, “Pretty sure it hates you the most, actually.” “Yeah, well– I’m used to dealing with it.” “It’s proven willing to make you suffer, and forgive me for not wanting to see what a full mental break looks like from you.”
Daz opens his mouth, but Aster cuts him off by turning back to the others. “One way or another, Innit will be freed. I haven’t just been seeing Daz’s past– I’ve been seeing the future, too. And Innit was sure as fuck walking around there!”
The bastard looks alarmed. “What? When the– why the fuck didn’t you say anything?!”
He folds his arms over his chest. “I didn’t exactly want to get into it.” “You know full goddamned well that’s not good enough. Answer the fucking question, Aster.”
Uhg, there’s no way he’ll let this go.
Reluctantly, he admits, “...At some point in the future, Daz and I get together. And, uh– I saw Innit at the wedding. It…handed Daz over to me, actually.”
Daz takes a deep breath, and guessing what he’ll say, Aster rolls his eyes and adds, “And Day handed me over to you, before you get pissy.”
“Excuse me?”
He shrugs helplessly at Day’s bafflement. “I desperately wish I were making it up. The idea of getting together with Daz, of all fucking people–” “Says the one who apparently gets fucked by me.” “Really? Really?”
Like a lightswitch, Daz flips his personality to a much warmer one. Unfortunately, Aster can tell the difference– there’s too much of an edge of malice in the way he smiles as he drapes his arms over his shoulders.
Cooing, Daz asks, “What’s the matter, baby? Worried you’ll think too hard about it here?”
He feels his face heat up despite himself. “First of all– I haven’t actually seen anything, just enough to know that– that happens. Second of all, get your hands off of me before I break your arms.”
Pouting at him, the fucking sociopath he apparently marries says, “But, Star…despite claiming you hate it, you’re getting all flustered.”
Aster gets a split-second flash of a warm giggle from Future-Daz of, “My sweet, snuggly Star!”
He grimaces. “I’m pretty sure I suffer a psychotic break to actually be interested in you.”
And he sees himself yet again, this time sitting in the Swords and Shields training hall. He’s next to Future-Theo, who seems like he’s really looking at Future-Aster for the first time in a long time. “...If it’s not too weird n’ personal, uh…how did you know? That you, y’know– fuckin’ liked him.”
Future-Aster seems to need a while to gather his thoughts. “Once I got closer to him, I started seeing all the things that were…really good. His quirks stopped being annoying and started being charming. I would get excited to come home, not because we did anything all that interesting but just because…I liked spending time with him.”
There’s a soft, fond smile as Future-Aster absently runs a thumb over what looks disturbingly like a bite mark on his shoulder. “I don’t really even remember what it’s like not to love him. He’s…he’s everything to me. The world feels brighter and happier now that I wake up next to him every morning.”
Future-Theo opens his mouth, but is interrupted by Future-Daz coming into the room.
The moment he clocks Aster’s lack of a shirt– which is how he usually works out, it’s annoying to have them get soaked with sweat– Future-Daz turns bright pink and demands, “Star, why are you– where is your shirt?!
Instead of a normal, reasonable answer, Future-Aster just grins and leans back. “I forgot you bit me, sorry.” “You don’t look sorry at all.” “And you don’t like you hate seeing me like this, soooo–”
Future-Daz huffs, hands going to his hips. “You’re– you’re the worst.” “Mm-hmm.” “Awful. Just, just terrible.” “Indeed.” “A jerk who likes making fun of me and making me embarrassed.”
Future-Aster reaches out and tugs his significant other into his lap. “And yet you still like me.”
Despite another, somewhat sullen huff, Future-Daz doesn’t argue that point.
When Aster is back in the present, Daz is staring intently at him. That faux-flirting is gone, though he’s still got his arms over his shoulders. “What did you see?”
Though he could answer this in a dozen ways, he chooses the pettiest he can think of. “You being easily embarrassed and down bad for me.”
Ignoring the way Daz splutters, he shoves his arms off and turns to face the others again. “Anyway. It doesn’t actually matter if you agree or not. Either you cooperate, or I use the wish I’ve earned via seeing Daz’s bullshit and grant it a body myself.”
Lee finally speaks up. “Ignoring all of– that? I think we should do it. It’s fucked up to keep it locked up like that. If I’m the one supposedly in danger, I should be the one to decide if it’s worth it or not. I think it is. Innit doesn’t have to like me– the server is plenty big for both of us.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Aster smiles fondly at his charge.
Then Lee continues, “And I don’t think it’s fair to make it be enchanted, too. It sets a really nasty precedent and would erode trust in not just Lucid, but everyone who had a part in that. Myself included.”
It’s an extremely good point. Aster nods, brow furrowed. “It– the idea of doing that makes me really uncomfortable.”
He gestures at Theo, who seems unsure. “You’ve got oceans of blood on your hands. I don’t think Innit was right, but I think it felt it was justified.”
“Lee was fuckin’ six,” Theo tells him. “It felt a baby admin, one who could control them because he’s a Dream. Unlike with Day and Lucid, who Daz did not trust–”
“Wait, you didn’t trust us? Then why did you let us undo the loyalty? Especially if you knew about code already,” Lucid interrupts.
Daz, visibly annoyed, snaps, “We could track your coding. If you had done anything we didn’t like, I’d have ruined you.”
Despite the admin’s doubt, Lee nods. “He can do that. He’ll correct my work when I’m not even showing him my console and when I didn’t even think he was paying attention. It’s freaky.”
That little side path resolved, Aster continues, “Daz was way less willing to hurt Lee. Innit, freshly betrayed, deeply traumatized, and desperate to die, went on high alert because it saw Lee as a threat.”
Theo repeats, “He was six!”
Aster responds, “And when Daz was six, he decided to rip out the parts of him that were ‘bad and wrong’ because his brother is a fucking monster. Again, I’m not saying Innit was right! It was a fucked up thing to do! But it was also a trauma response. For trauma that has only festered in the meantime, because unlike Daz, Innit has been alone.”
As much as he hates to do this, he appeals to the one who will hold ultimate authority in this matter.
“You know damn fucking well what isolation does to a person. You’re debating condemning someone to a fate very literally worse than death because you don’t like that they fucked up. Let me remind you that you fucked up pretty damn bad, too. And, again– if all of you refuse, I’ll use the wish on this. Having the memories of its life in my head is bad enough, but knowing I’ve abandoned someone in those conditions…I’d never be able to live with myself.”
He can tell Daz is seething, but for once he doesn’t care.
The bastard is wrong about this. Whatever punishment Innit may have deserved– what its gotten has far outstripped that.
Vio says, “Aster has a point. I know this is a touchy matter, but leaving Innit in there…that’s not acceptable. Not only would we incur the wrath of the Observers and likely the Showrunner, but we have no guarantee that it wouldn’t find another way to escape. We can extend a hand, or risk Innit being free with no reason not to raze the server to the ground.”
Day scrubs a hand down his face, which has a sour expression. “...If we’re doing this, its getting put into therapy with Iatros, too. And I want it nowhere near Summer Hills.”
There’s a sudden, bitter laugh from Daz. “Oh, wow. That’s actually– actually an interesting idea.”
The bastard grips his shoulder with more force than Aster was aware he was capable of.
“It proposes that it could live with Aster. If its so fucking attached to him, and Aster is so goddamned determined to go forward with this stupid fucking plan– surely he can open his shitty little house to that thing, huh?”
He considers where would even work. “I– there’s literally nowhere for it to go. I’m willing to have an extension or something, I guess?”
Daz’s fingers dig into his shoulder. Voice a low, dangerous hiss, he warns, “If you can’t keep it in line, I’ll personally make your life a living hell.”
A shudder goes down his spine. Daz’s wrath is not a small thing, as proven by him killing his ex-mentor in cold blood and destroying him the worst way he could.
“And you should try group counseling with it. Maybe you’ll be less of a fucking sociopath when you learn to at least tolerate a fundamental part of you.”
Flippantly, and forcibly removing Daz’s hand from his shoulder, he adds, “If you want to do the whole song and dance about me getting on your good side? Maybe be less of an insufferable bastard, first. Your trauma is valid but your responses to it sure as fuck aren’t.”
Getting into his space, he growls, “I should be at your throat for the fact that you’ve spent three fucking years conditioning me to hate you. I should be furious you’ve actively abused my trauma to make sure you never had to deal with yours! You’ve refused to actually let yourself heal because you’re a coward, Daz.”
Daz’s eyes thin into slits as he snaps back, “I don’t need your preaching, considering you–” “I’ve fucking told you, I had no idea it would be like this! I also, shockingly, didn’t realize exactly how broken you actually are! I was sure you’d hate me for not taking the offer. It’s a wish that can bend the laws of reality, and I thought you would be mature enough to recognize that even though it sucks to have someone know more than you wanted…that you’d agree it’s worth it.”
He takes a step back and scoffs, “Fuck, at times like these, I can see why the Showrunner hates you. You’re a selfish asshole who only seems to do good things when it’s convenient for you.”
As he turns on his heel and stalks out, he finishes off with, “Lately, I wonder if I was right to take your hand at all.”
Aster knows he’ll regret those words later, in one form or another.
But he’s also sick and tired of Daz kicking him in the dick because he’s pissed that he’s lost control.
At no point did Aster ask for any of this! He hates having to be the one to drag Daz kicking and screaming into a better place! He hates seeing his past and the trauma that have shaped him into the paranoid bastard that he is today!
A lot of the time, he kind of hates seeing the future, too. It only makes their current relationship feel worse, because Aster can see that Daz is capable of being good to him.
Even something as simple as the two of them watching a movie together feels so fucking bittersweet, because it’s clear they do eventually come to love each other.
Yet, right now, Daz hates him. Whatever his actual feelings before, right now they’re at the lowest they’ve ever been.
…There aren’t many times that Aster has seriously considered the benefits of getting drunk. The idea of losing control of himself gives him hives.
But, honestly, the chance of shutting off his own heavily leashed anger and resentment for the night sounds amazing.
This’ll be fun to discuss with his therapist. The poor Puffy has no goddamned idea the shit he’s kept bottled up until now, but it’s beyond time that he start doing so.
It's not often that Theo finds himself struggling to sit down and talk with his best friend.
But after learning what massive secrets he's kept, Theo has…
Honestly?
He's avoided Aster.
It's been weeks since the truth behind Daz’s shiny facade was stripped away. Theo was the first ‘outsider’ to see the broken, mangled, wretched thing underneath all that carefully-crafted image.
In the moment, he had felt a numb sense of horror.
Out of everyone on the server, he should be able to spot someone like.
Someone using care for others as a form of self-harm; someone hiding their trauma behind a smile; someone who has been running for so long that stopping feels like death.
…Someone exactly like his dad.
He still remembers the first time he saw Daz. He had been wrapped up in the arms of his Dream, looking up over the back of the couch like he was waiting for them.
His surprise had been so genuine that he wrote it off, but…
How much was a surprise?
Maybe it doesn't matter. Daz had bluntly said he planned to use whoever showed up to commit a form of suicide by cop, so– does it really matter if he was surprised it was them or surprised it was anyone?
The awareness of how close Theo came to doing that the second time leaves him cold in a way he hates.
Frost is his refuge. When rage and fire fail, he knows he can retreat to the ice and become something untouchable.
This chill, though…it leaves him feeling small and helpless.
He knows Aster didn't enjoy hiding this from him. He also knows– or is pretty damn sure– that Daz did…all of that, as a fucked up form of self defense.
But he’s still hurt by it.
Aster had been in tears from whatever he's seen of Daz’s past.
He explicitly said he'd rather deal with the monster that made him sit still as he carved a brand into his neck than Daz's own brother.
If Aster was so distraught about Daz’s past…was it worse? Was it really–
He scrubs his hands over his eyes. Sleep is gonna elude him again because of how jumbled and chaotic his thoughts and feelings are, so he reluctantly gets to his feet.
Pretty much the only thing he can think to do is go upstairs and try and watch something, but he spots Lee's light on.
Worried, he pokes his head in.
Lee is hunched over his desk, hard at work on what looks like a bracelet.
Calcite beads! For Daz? Aww he's serious about claiming him!! Baby bro best bro
He walks up and taps Lee’s shoulder. His little brother yelps in surprise and jumps in his chair.
A snort escapes him as he’s glared at. “Don’t sneak up on me,” Lee snaps, putting his work down to try and smooth his ruffled feathers.
“Sorry, baby bro,” he replies, glad that this, at least, hasn't changed.
His brother huffs softly, looking away.
A sudden and familiar shift comes over Lee’s expression, though.
“You'll find what you need at the Swords and Shields building,” his brother murmurs.
Brow furrowed, Lee asks, “What do you need Aster for?”
Theo grimaces. “I mean…”
Lee straightens up. “You've talked to him since everything, right?” “...In a manner of fuckin’ speaking–”
“Theo.” “It’s a lot to fuckin’ deal with!”
Not the smallest part of which is that Aster and Daz apparently get together.
Which is weird! He and Astet had a goddamned heart-to-heart about how they had no interest in that sort of thing!
Lee points at the door. “Go talk to your friend, coward.” “I'm not a–!” “Go.”
He sounds just like D3! Oh my goddd he's adorable Best!! Bro!!! He do got a point tho Face the music my guy it's time to dance
Uhhhg.
======
After a flight filled with mild bickering and trying to figure out what to say, he opens the doors to the Swords and Shields training hall.
He can hear the sounds of a fight. Huh, weird– who the hell did Aster call to spar with him at this hour?
Silent as possible, he slips in and–
Holy shit! Oh my god?! THE BASTARD CAN FIGHT?!?!?
He finds himself in mute agreement.
Daz doesn't look to be having an easy time, exactly, but he’s also wielding an axe like he’s right at home doing so.
…Wait, doesn't he use daggers?
He sees that familiar, feral grin on Aster’s face that says he's enjoying himself– giving him another weird pang that he definitely doesn’t want to identify any time soon.
That expression suddenly falters and Daz lunges forward, slamming his axe down.
Aster stumbles as he respawns on the spot, then glares at Daz. “That’s cheap.”
“That’s pressing the advantage against a stronger opponent,” Daz scoffs, leaning on his axe.
“So you admit I'm stronger.” “It's been years since I thought otherwise. Unlike some people in this room, I'm not fixated on my physical strength.”
I think he means you? Yeahhh sounds like you crazy to throw shade after what he's done but he's also not wrong lmaooooo
Annoyed, Theo stalks forwards. “Don’t be a fuckin’ bitch.”
Daz rolls his eyes and turns to sit down on a nearby bench.
Without his shirt on, Theo gets a glimpse of weird scars across his back.
Those are magic burns. What kind of magic? I don't recognize that one.
He clears his throat. “What made that mark on your fuckin’ back?”
Daz squints at him. “...What?” “Fates say it's from fuckin’ magic. Was that the fuckin’ enchantment?”
Understanding seems to dawn on Daz. “Ah. No, but it was the inciting incident.”
Lightly, Daz answers, “I was shoved in a one-by-one cage and pelted with dozens upon dozens of potions, poison and instant health back and to back, in the span of about twenty minutes.”
There's a pause, and then Daz amends, “Forty-nine, apparently.”
He remembers Daz mentioning that cage years ago. It pissed him off at the time that anyone would think of doing something like that.
Daz hadn't mentioned he was actually inside it, though. Actually, he explicitly said he only saw it.
Aster sits down heavily on the bench, looking ill. “What the fuck was– all of that was for Dream?”
“I was just bait. The only thing he gave a shit about, unable to do anything but wait for rescue…again.”
The words are bitter, and understandably so.
Slowly, Theo says, “That much magic is fuckin’ lethal.” He’s picked up enough from his dad to know that much, even if he's never come anywhere near abusing potions to that extent.
There's a little shrug. “Dream’s obsession was probably kept me from dying. My theory is that that's the same reason the enchantment didn't immediately kill me, too.”
Tone way too fucking light for what he’s saying, Daz muses, “The world itself was even more closely entwined with admins than here. His will could have been powerful enough to bridge the gap…probably.”
Aster looks horrified. “Probably?!”
“I saw what he did to the program. I should be dead.”
It’s said so matter-of-factly that Theo doesn’t even know how to begin to respond.
Daz studies him, and Theo realizes that the scars on his back aren’t the only ones he has.
The guy has seen more fighting than Theo ever gave him credit for, huh?
Swallowing, scrambling for something that isn’t deeply depressing to latch onto, he mumbles, “Thought you used fuckin’ daggers, not an axe.”
He gets another shrug. “Axe is what I trained with. I’m too good to write off but not good enough to hide it better. I don’t have bullshit reaction time like you and the Comet, here.”
“I hate that fucking nickname,” Aster grumbles. “I know. That’s why I started it,” Daz tells him.
Wait, Daz came up with it?
“That was you?” “Among many other things, both good and bad.”
Daz gestures at the room around them. “All of this is because I went to him with a vision, after all. His switch from copying you in combat to being his own damn person was from me, too.”
…Shit, Daz really has done a lot, hasn’t he? Those two things alone really lead credence to why Aster didn’t ever come forward about him before now.
Aster is who he is because Daz pushed him into it. His best friend would be…fuck, he would be so much smaller, if he hadn’t been put on this path.
He’s not sure how to feel about that.
There’s a stretch from Daz, who idly notes, “He planned to keep an eye on me and report what I was up to, by the way. At least, at first. After a while…it was harder and harder to admit I didn’t have a point.”
Aster sighs deeply, not quite looking at either of them. “...He’s persuasive. I– I never liked keeping his secret, but–”
His friend’s face twists. “Theo, you know I don’t really like him. I think he’s–” “Careful how you speak about your future husband, dear.” “You’re a borderline sociopath who fucks with others for reasons ranging from petty to unresolved trauma, you’ve positioned yourself so you can’t be effectively helped, and you have so many fucking secrets it gives me hives,” Aster finishes.
Daz clicks his tongue softly. “I’m sure we’ll deal with this in couple’s counseling one day.” “I’ll setting for you dealing with your shit in regular counseling, that’d be a great start.”
Weird dynamic Familiar tho?? Yeah nah they obviously do this a lot Oh I meant that they’re, like, Theo and Day lmao
“Excuse the fuck you, Dad n’ I aren’t like them!”
That outburst makes Aster grimace. “I mean…” Almost smug, Daz hums, “Apparently I’m ‘just like Day’, and you and Aster are practically twins, so…”
He glares at both of them. “Fuck you.”
Daz’s eyebrows shoot up. Amused, he says, “Careful, Aster seems the jealous sort.”
Aghast, Aster tells him, “Shut the fuck up.” “But hon, it’s really funny to see you all flustered!” “I could strangle you. You fucked with the server code so deaths wouldn’t show up here, anyway–” “Yeah? How sure are you about how that works? Because I could have given it a limit, Aster. I could have made it so that it shuts off when I kill you,” Daz cackles, and fuck is it still weird to see him acting like this!
Aster’s jaw ticks, and then he slams his eyes shut. After taking a long, deep breath, and visibly calming himself in a way Theo suspects he learned mainly to deal with Daz, Aster answers, “If you keep being a bastard, I won’t sleep with you again.”
WHAT NANI THE FUCK HOLY SHIT WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN THEO GET AN EXPLANATION NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW
Face turning red, Daz snaps, “Don’t– say it in a way that’s– fuck you, don’t imply shit!”
Sounding and looking smug, Aster tells him, “Doesn’t it suck to get your bullshit turned back on you? I’ve already told you–”
Oh, so this is– so fucking weird, because Aster grabs Daz’s chin and continues, voice low, “I’ll go as low as you do.”
Daz all but throws himself away from Aster, ending up on the floor.
Evidently satisfied at whatever the fuck just happened, Aster turns back to him and explains, “He went missing for about sixteen hours yesterday. Apparently he was in a hidey-hole we overlooked, working on code with Innit. After he tried to storm off and failed miserably because he hadn’t eaten in ages, we had a chat. I made him lay down and have decent sleep for probably the only time since before he showed up here.”
Having apparently recovered, but still a bit red-faced, Daz mutters, “The coma was pretty good sleep.”
Hmm, that’s definitely not a good enough answer by literally any metric.
Instead of even beginning to touch on– literally any of that, Theo asks, “The fuck did you do before?”
“Dream. It stopped working when he betrayed me.”
…Shit, that’s depressing.
Aster adds, “Daz was working on that code because he made a deal with the Showrunner, by the way. He sees me like I see him, so…”
Daz suddenly squints. “You two had an entire pow-wow about how aro/ace you are? When the fuck was that?” “First party you inflicted on me about my earring from Theo. You know, where you riled up my own goddamned subordinates into thinking it was an engagement thing?”
Scoffing, Daz– who seems to not want to get up off the floor, at least for the moment– tells him, “In my defense, it wasn’t my idea to start with.” “Yeah, no, you still caused enough parties and well-wishes that that doesn’t actually matter, Daz.”
Theo remembers that party. He also remembers how Daz had seemed so damn hangdog about upsetting Aster.
Yeah, Aster’s dislike of him continues to only make more and more sense.
Flippantly, Daz says, “Pissed me off that you got earrings.” “Why the fuck–”
Aster goes quiet, suddenly looking stricken. Weakly, he says, “Oh.”
…Is this what it’s like to see him talk with the Fates? Or with his Dad?
Annoyed at being left out of the loop, he asks, “The fuck did you see?”
Daz looks up at him right as a beam of moonlight hits him. He looks surreal and dreamlike as he answers, “I abandoned my only claims before I came to Sanctuary. I couldn’t properly reciprocate anything I got here because I thought it would kill the other party.”
His heart sinks and squeezes at the same time.
Theo knows, better than pretty much any other non-admin, the impact that bond items have on an admin.
His mind is cast back a long, long, long time ago. When his dad was teetering on the edge of deciding if he’d take Theo and his brothers in…his eyes had gone to little trinkets they had given him.
Those were claims to him, he suddenly realizes. His dad had spent a literal lifetime adrift, but what seemed like clumsy attempts to reciprocate his kindness were the lifeline he had so desperately needed.
All over it again, it hits him how mangled Daz actually is. He was never a wounded baby bird, but instead a weasel that a cat had gotten ahold of and torn to shreds.
Even if he left plenty of wounds in return, he’s still been bleeding out in plain sight for years.
“...Why did you fuckin’-- why Lee?”
He’s stared at almost like he’s stupid. “If I was going to reject half of myself because I wasn’t ready to kill him, it’s dumb to do that by halves.” “But why,” Theo presses, still not understanding.
If it had been the Fates screaming at him, he doesn’t know that he could have held strong. At the time, Lee was basically nothing to him– so why was it so important to Daz to keep him alive?
Daz sighs, stretching his legs out into a more comfortable position. “Kindness like that is easy to snuff out. Is it really so hard to believe that I needed a liferaft, too?”
…That’s it? Everything Daz has done, all the secrets and lies and scheming– all because Lee was kind?
There’s a wry smile. “There was only ever one other person who was kind for mostly-selfless reasons. Even Dream, for all he did for me…he needed me. He needed to have someone who could never leave. I was his salvation, his chance at turning his prison into a paradise.”
Quietly, Aster murmurs, “Friendship isn’t selfish, Daz.” “Tubbo didn’t have anyone else to turn to, but he also wasn’t completely trapped. Not until…”
Despite Daz trailing off, Aster looks sad. “You still blame yourself.” “I was the one who made him stay. Without me, he would have gone off to sail the seas with his cousin. At every step, he stayed for me…and it led to a shallow grave.”
Almost unconsciously, Daz rubs the bracelet on his wrist. Dark green and red– bloodstone, Theo is pretty sure.
Has he…worn that in memory of his Tubbo? Theo remembers him getting it before he even left Summer Hills.
“Nobody stays without a reason. In Sanctuary, I’ve made sure people had ample reason– power, manipulation, food, even gratitude. The useless and worthless are discarded, so I made sure nobody would ever see me like that,” Daz continues.
His need to be useful wasn’t just a part of the lie? The shape maybe but not the content fuuuuuuuuck he’s so– so– can we go back and kill his Dream I feel like that’d be good for everyone Yeah actually let’s go kill him Murdertrip!!
Theo doesn’t dignify the Fates with a response. They damn well know that nobody is going back to that place– a berserk admin with nothing left to lose is too dangerous to go against if there’s any other options.
He sighs deeply. “Really need to do fuckin’ therapy, Daz.” “It’s easier to talk to people I know. I don’t like most Technoes.” “Isn’t fuckin’ Aleph in your secret club? N’ don’t you fuckin’ hang around Attie all the time?”
Daz rolls his eyes. “Most is the operative word, Theo.”
Reaching up to yank his hair out of its ponytail, Daz continues, “Atlas is one of my closest non-Council friends, actually. I think highly of him and like watching him work.”
Wait, don’t they have duo items?
Aster notes, “You should probably back that up if you really care.” “Shut up.” “Consider– no. You never have, after all.” “Let me work on the people I care the most about first, then I’ll work my way outwards.”
Resting his elbows on his knees, Aster stares Daz down and tells him, “And where do I fit into that?”
Daz looks like a deer in headlights. “I– what?” “I mean– we already know we get literally fucking married, Daz. With a kid–” “That’s then, this is now!” “I dunno, if we’re not fighting…maybe it’s worth working towards that future.”
They have a kld?!
“A kid?!”
Both of them seem to startle, almost like they forgot he was even there. Aster laughs, “Yeah, we uh– with the whole…future vision shit, uh– we both saw her.” “The fuck did this happen?! Why didn’t you fuckin’ say anything?!”
Aster opens his mouth, and then breaks out into laughter. Daz joins a beat later, smacking his hand on the floor. “Holy fucking– gods, yeah, that tracks!” “Oh my gods, she’s gonna be untouchable. Literally, the aura of her power will make people part in fear,” Aster cackles.
He’s not following. “The fuck’re you two on about?”
Theo is definitely not grumpy and feeling weird that the two of them have this– shared knowledge that Theo can’t even begin to touch, on top of years of existing secrecy.
Daz snickers, “You bawling like a baby when she says your name for the first time.” “Looks about ready to pass out the first time he holds her, terrified he’ll drop her,” Aster adds, grinning at him.
Yeah that tracks honestly idk man maybe Theo shouldn’t be trusted with a tiny kid how do they adopt her actually??
Disgruntled, he asks, “How do you two fuckin’ adopt?”
Still amused, Daz tells him, “No. Surrogate, I think.” “She has your freakishly blue eyes, Daz, even as a newborn.” “And she’s named after you, so–”
Ohhhhh fuck, that’s– that’s a whole different ballgame, then.
After giving himself a minute to let his brain reboot, he says, “...Dad’ll have a fuckin’ grandkid, huh?”
They both give him weirdly similar looks of confusion, so he stammers, “I– uh, if dad walks Aster down the fuckin’ aisle–”
“I’m already family in all but name, so– yeah, actually, she would be his grandkid,” Aster murmurs.
Daz snorts softly. “Don’t look so sour, Theo. I know you’re jealous I’m stealing your fiance–” “I can literally snap your fuckin’ neck, Daz.” “--but you’re gaining a godchild and niece.”
That…is so fucking surreal to consider that he doesn’t even know what to say.
Daz continues, “Alongside Lee and Raine, obviously.” “Can you even do three?” “Why not? Our kid, our rules. Anyone objects and we can direct them to the three of them and say, ‘okay, so you get to tell them to duke it out for who gets to stay the godfather.’ Actually, wait, that sounds funny.”
Do we even know how to like…deal? With girls? Uhhhh should we start looking into shovel talks now? I feel like now. What why literally LOOK at Daz. a kid that’s the spitting image of him??? A GIRL??? Oh my god that poor thing she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’ll probably be able to supplex you into your FACE
The server is in no way, shape, or form ready for a kid of any gender raised by those two.
Theo is reminded of how Daz ever so gently pleaded with Lee to let him go. How his primary reason had been to protect Lee, no matter the cost– how he had been willing to throw his own life away because he thought that Lee’s safety was in jeopardy.
It had been his primary angle when trying to convince the rest of them, too.
He shivers at the idea of that kind of loyalty and devotion being given to anyone, but especially a kid that they’ll be planning for.
Deciding that, actually, he doesn’t want to think about that right now, he switches topics. “So why’re you both out here this late?”
“I was indulging the fightslut tendencies of my future husband. He did something nice for me, I did something nice for him,” Daz answers, evidently unbothered by the shift to something else.
Aster rolls his eyes. “I am not–” “Up until apparently me, the closest thing you’ve had to that kind of feeling is during a fight,” Daz retorts, looking smug, “Tell me I’m wrong, bitch.”
“I– shut up.” “I’m totally convinced, what a persuasive argument.” “I–!”
Obviously floundering, Aster sputters, “If I am, then so is Theo!”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Don’t fuckin’ drag me into whatever the fuck is happening.” “I’m just saying–” “Aww, babe…are you already bored with me? I’m sure I can find some way to make things more fun–”
Euuhg, gross gross gross, hearing that kind of simpering tone from Daz, directed at Theo’s best friend–
Aster, evidently in agreement, lunges forward and slaps a hand over the bastard’s mouth. Daz looks painfully smug as he ends up flat on his back, looking up at his evidently future husband’s bright red face.
“I’m going to kill you,” Aster growls at him.
Daz reaches up and rips Aster’s hand away. “Go on, do it. I fuckin’ dare you.”
There’s a long moment of seething, before Theo visibly sees a lightbulb go off in Aster’s head.
Grabbing both of Daz’s wrists, he slams them against the ground and leans in so close that Theo would swear they’re kissing.
Instead, his face moves to Daz’s ear and he tells him, voice low, “I thought you didn’t want to play this game, love. I can stake a public claim on you any time I want– make the server think of you as mine. If we’re going to get married eventually anyway, I don’t see the point in waiting.”
Daz squeaks in dismay, looking like he’s trying to shrink away.
“When you aren’t being a bastard, it’s not hard to see why I turn into such a simp for you. Having someone like you all to myself…I’m starting to see the appeal.”
Holy shit When did we start watching a romcom is this like– how you catch an admin?? Nah fam I think Daz is just a freak
Aster suddenly pulls back and grabs Daz’s shirt. Tone back to normal, he demands, “Your paycheck is what?!”
…Huh?
“You goddamned bastard, you bitched and moaned about getting me paid more when you make that much a month?!”
Daz gawks at him, still bright red, but eventually seems to recalibrate to the shift. “I– yeah, dipshit, I perform a vital service! I’m one of the highest paid people on the goddamned server, right after Management and the T3!”
Aster shakes him. “Theo does not get paid that much!” “Wait, really? Huh, then I guess only Management makes more than I do.”
There’s a long moment of silence, and then Daz rolls his eyes. “Your paycheck isn’t nothing, asshole.” “It’s not– that!” “That money is literally going to be half yours eventually, why are you bitching?” “I–”
Aster sits up so he’s kneeling. He sounds unsure as he says, “That’s…not the point…?” “You already know I’m stupid rich, this shouldn’t be a shock to you.” “Still not the point.”
A long, annoyed sigh comes from Daz. “If you can promise to keep your fucking mouth shut and let me work, I’ll let you spend a day watching me at the Welcome Wagon so you see why I’m worth that much. Shockingly, I do actually have a lot of things I have to get done, and if I’m busy answering stupid questions, I won’t be able to be as productive as I need to be.”
There’s a long, contemplative silence.
“...Only on one condition.” “The fact that I’m graciously allowing you watch a master at work is more than you deserve, so choose your words carefully.”
Aster leans down just a little again. Staring into Daz’s eyes, he demands, “Feed me.”
Daz is silent for a moment, and then asks in a tone both exasperated and confused, “Why?”
“I have spent literal fucking years having you spike any food you make for me. I want the real thing. I want to actually enjoy your cooking for once, without being afraid it’ll come back to bite me later.”
…Is Daz’s cooking actually that good?
Clicking his tongue, Daz answers, “Incentivize me.” “...What do you want?”
There’s a long silence, and then, very quietly and not looking at Aster directly, he mumbles, “You should know what I want.”
With a weirdly gentle expression, Aster says, “...That can be unrelated to the whole– seeing what you actually do. Cook for me and I’ll be your sleep aid.”
“Does your…nevermind. We can talk about it later.” “It’ll have to be your room, obviously.”
Daz turns his head to look up at Aster, seeming to search for something.
Then he blinks and says, “I don’t go in tomorrow. Today, technically.” Aster snorts, “I’ll grab something to sleep in, then. Make me lunch or something.”
There’s a relived smile, and then Daz says, “I’ll go get ready. See you!”
Theo can’t even begin to move fast enough, even if he wanted to, to stop Daz from opening his console and teleporting away.
Aster is left kneeling on the ground, a look between happiness, frustration, and confusion on his face.
Slowly, his friend gets to his feet, then looks at him. “That’s the best conversation we’ve had since I’ve known him, by the way. He’s just– like that.”
Finally able to find his voice, Theo demands, “The fuck was all that?” “All what?” “All of–” Theo grimaces, gesturing at the place Daz had been.
It seems to take Aster a moment to realize what he means. “Oh! Yeah, that’s– psychological warfare. I already told him that if he wants to take the low road, I’ll go lower. I’m sick of putting up with his petty bullshit, so…I’m punishing that, but rewarding good behavior.”
That very much does not sound like something one should say about their future spouse.
“Like a fuckin’ dog?” “Theo, I understand you aren’t aware of his sociopathic tendencies, not really,” Aster laughs, an edge of mania in his voice. He grips Theo’s shoulders, saying in a way that sounds almost like seething, “I finally have a way to give just as good as I get. Maybe he’ll stop being a bastard once I stop letting him shove me around.”
He squints. That sounds even less like a good thing for a partner to say.
Then again, what does he know about this kind of thing?
Daz IS kinda a bastard tho Maybe some snork mimimi will fix him? Power of love, baby!! He literally thinks any kind of affection is like, transactional, though I dunno…Aster seems to kinda just want food? That seems like a low price??
He shakes his head. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ understand it. Go fuckin’ appease your man, or whatever you fuckin’ are.”
“No idea, honestly. I might have to actually ask him out or something– taunting him like that…”
Aster laughs a little, far less villainous-sounding, as he starts to walk towards the door. “I think I get part of why he targeted me so much. It’s kind of fun, actually? It’d do his ego good, too, remembering that he’s not untouchable.”
Theo is left in the Swords and Shields training hall, struggling to figure out how the fuck he’s supposed to explain literally any of this to his therapist.
When Day gets a message from Theo to meet him in the bunker under said eldest son's room, he knows something is wrong.
As far as he knows, Theo doesn't go down there often; he rarely feels the need to hide things from San.
The fact that he wants to do so now, with no prior warning signs…
It's enough to make him scrap his plans for lunch and head down immediately.
There's the distinct smell of smoke and something more that puts his feathers on edge as soon as he opens the hidden trapdoor.
Yeah, fuck the ladder; this is why they have padding at the bottom.
He jumps down and immediately sees Theo on the couch.
His son is hunched over, head in his hands. His wings are curled around himself, evidently lost in his thoughts.
Day sits next to him, jolting him.
Theo–
Theo looks wrecked. There aren't a lot of times he's seemed more upset.
It's definitely not as bad as when his brothers were hurt or killed, nor learning Day's past.
But…this might be close to the distress he showed when they first rescued Daz.
Maybe even Raine.
Drags his eldest son into a hug. Theo shudders, clinging to him like a kid instead of well into his twenties.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
Theo flinches a little.
Is it his fault? Theo doesn't really flinch unless he feels guilty.
Slowly, his son tells him, “...You know…the myth Orph took his name from, yeah?”
“I– what? Of course I do, you made sure I knew all of them by heart.”
“N’...how you can– how, sometimes, you can made deals with gods?”
There's only one thing this points to.
Gripping Theo’s shoulders, he demands, “What did you get, and what was the price?”
He knows his son– knows him better than he knows anyone else.
Theo would never even entertain anything like this without a damn good reason.
A weak, watery laugh comes from his eldest. “The alternative was so much fuckin’– I couldn't leave you alone, old man.”
His grip tightens. Horrified, he demands, “Tell me you didn't make yourself imm–”
“No. I was…that was the plan. For– for a while. But…shit, we have a real fuckin’ powerful boss, yeah? So I did the opposite.”
Opposite of immortal? So he…
Oh, gods. His bleeding-hearted son sold his soul to make sure Day wasn't immortal.
Grief surges up. He had made his peace with outliving his kids, and despite how upsetting it was–
Shit, he would have been able to protect them.
Now, Theo has not just upended that, but paid a price that's deeply upset him.
“What…did you pay,” he repeats. Getting emotional about the other part can wait until he knows what the cost was.
A half-hysterical laugh slips from Theo, who grips his shirt tighter.
“Compared– fuck, it could be worse! Could be so much fuckin’ worse! I– I didn't…I didn't lose anything.”
That's not a comfort. “Then what did you gain?”
Quietly, and finally meeting his eyes, Theo tells him, “Knowledge. I learned– two things. Two…real fuckin’ big things. I– I can't say ‘em. Uhm, if I try, I just– can't fuckin’ speak. N’ workarounds…I dunno. I haven't– ‘s a punishment. Pain, the Scribe said. Dunno…shit, these're– big enough I can't not try.”
A shudder goes down Theo's spine. He looks stricken. “One is bigger. If anyone else figures it out, they fuckin’...same geas. Only those who already know can fuckin’ say it around each other. The other is– technically smaller. Still a big fuckin’ deal. That one, no server-wide geas. Just me.”
It…
Theo is right; it could be worse.
It's definitely not good, of course. It's clearly deeply distressing, after all, and Theo can’t truly talk about it.
But he could have had so many things taken. Sight, memory, flight, just to name a few. Or he could have been made to do something like sacrifice someone he loved, or do an impossible feat.
As far as dealings with gods go, and especially this god?
It's a disturbingly light cost.
Theo adds, almost hesitantly, “N’...there was– I learned something that’s not fuckin’ protected.”
Day tenses. “What is it?”
“Someone…there's another fuckin’ god above the Showrunner n’ Scribe. The, uh– the Scribe called ‘em the Overseer. They– they invoked ‘em like we'd invoke Prime. Like, uh– like Thank Prime, kinda shit. I saw the Scribe, too. Just…fuck, I can’t do a fuckin’ meeting about it. Not right now. N’ I don't wanna…”
Theo scrubs his face, looking exhausted. “I don't wanna fuckin’ describe the whole thing over n’ over.”
It’s understandable. He nods, running his hand between Theo’s wings like he used to do when his son was younger.
Back when the wings he had were his own, and not a copy-pasted version of Day’s. Back when Theo showed vulnerability more openly; back when Theo was just a kid who was opening up to a parent who actually cared.
He should still be that kid. He never should have had to grow up like he did– never should have had to shoulder so many of their burdens.
Maybe then he wouldn’t have felt compelled to take this one on, too.
But neither of them can undo it. Day doubts he’d even get an audience to do so– and if he did, it would likely end with things far worse than before.
There’s nothing he can do but support Theo as best as he can.
Later, he might find it in himself to feel anything but guilty and worried, but…
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Have you ever met a version of darkza that was kind?
Day makes a face like he’s insulted. To be fair, he is; the question is absurd to him on quite a few levels. His wings flick in annoyance as he answers, "I've only met the one. If I could have snapped his wings off and stuffed them down his throat, I would have. He’s a monster and I'm glad he died suffering."
The irony of him, of all people, saying that is not lost on Day. But, well…even at his worst, he didn't do anything as heinous as hacking the wings off of two of his own kids and blinding one of them.
Coming back from just a day-long run to the nearby village to find Theo, all of thirteen, desperately trying to protect his younger brothers despite his own maiming–
He can never forget that sight. Nor can he forgive a man who would be that much of a monster.
There are a lot of debts he has racked up with the Fates, but that is the first and largest. Despite their confusion from the sudden reality warp, they were still able to give Theo the strength to hold on until Day returned.
The Fates are why his family remains whole and hale. He can never hope to repay them for that fact.
"Not me, personally," Day answers. "But Sanctuary as a whole does, yes. Some people would say Manhunts don't count. I disagree; the server pretty much shuts down for them, after all. Even Lucid’s are a big deal…not that they can outdo Perce's."
He sounds a little smug about that. His second youngest, for all that he likes to be a menace, has taken to Sanctuary's style of Manhunts with a startling amount of grace.
Maybe part of it is a desire to get the hefty paychecks offered, sure. Perce has several pricey hobbies; those had actually been the push he needed to actually take the plunge.
There had been some awkwardness in adjusting to the new format, of course. But once he had his footing, his second youngest had taken off at a dead sprint and has yet to slow down.
And now Perce draws the biggest audience, in no small part because he knows exactly how to play to them. He’s damn good at finding the best way to balance his skill and keeping the viewers in suspense.
But the question had likely been about more normal festivals.
"The last weekend of March, we have the Blooming Festival. It's a celebration of the end of winter and beginning of spring. Lots of flowers get handed around in different forms. Bouquets, flower crowns, corsages, bracelets– some people get them preserved with magic as a memento. Or just get paper ones."
He can’t help but smile at the memory he has of Lee and Perce's respective first years.
With Perce, the rest of his family– and his friends, once they caught on– made a game out of stealthily adding to the increasingly unwieldy number of floral adornments. It quickly spiraled out of control, until it seemed like half of Sanctuary decided to pile on.
Even Vio had managed to pin a small hyssopus to his sleeve. Nobody was sure when he did it, just that it had to have been him.
The flower is pretty uniquely linked to the alien. They’re what his ear cuff is in the shape of, and thus a little too personal for most people to grow at all. Even those that do wouldn't just hand them out like that.
By the end of the festival, Perce had enough flowers that he could have started a stall. He had been red faced from laughter and a bit of embarrassment.
Lee, meanwhile, had missed that same celebration by just a bit under two months. He had more time to acclimate to Sanctuary's style of celebrating in time for the next year, and more critically, time to plot.
His goal had been to give every single person a flower. In his eyes, they were all special, and thus all needed to get something from him.
There…had been some distress, when he failed at that exceptionally ambitious goal.
A few people got together afterwards to help him belatedly achieve it– Aster being among them.
Daz, too. It's sort of funny; the two Tommys don't mesh at all, and yet they had both felt driven to help a sullen six year old feel better.
Now that he’s thinking about the perky head of newcomer orientation, though, he remembers another event.
"The Welcome Wagon holds a picnic each month, open to anyone who wants to go. I think it's mainly to help new residents meet others. I don't go much, but Orph loves it."
Likely, part of that is because he’s good friends with Daz. Plus he doesn't have to stress about orientation any more. The rest of the people who run the day-to-day parts of the server are semi-regulars as well. Even Vio shows up sometimes, in between boughts of…hibernation?
Day is pretty sure that's what Vio has claimed he does to recover post-travel. But Vio says a lot of things that Day takes with a few pounds worth of salt, so fuck knows if he was telling the truth, exaggerating, or just flat out lying.
He and Theo agree that Vio definitely makes some things up just to fuck with them. It’s likely payback for all the times that the two of them annoy the alien.
It does not help that the rest of the not-family double down on some things, or refute others that Day knows for a fact are true.
Speaking of Vio's totally-not-sons, though…
"We have combat tournaments– which Aryll is banned from participating in. He won too easily and it was boring for everyone. That happened not too long after multiverse travel started, though, and there’s a good chance he wouldn't do nearly as well now. He's never tried to appeal it because he can't be bothered and he likes rubbing it in Theo’s face."
It remains a sore spot for Theo that he was never able to get banned for being too good.
Of course– Day’s eldest never gives them his all, either. There’s leagues of difference between a friendly, if heated, match and Theo aiming to kill.
Theo can be beaten. Theseus Was-Taken cannot.
Day is all too aware of just how powerful Theo truly is– a lifetime of pushing himself to be stronger, better, and faster than anyone else is emphasized every time the chorus of the Fates demand blood.
Despite the frequent bickering and annoyance, the Fates do not fuck around with an actual threat. They’ve grown attached to Theo and his loved ones– and, thus, messing around when those are in danger is a non-option.
Theseus Was-Taken, the legend, was born because Theo needed to protect his family. He and the Fates formed a deep, symbiotic relationship; they live in his head and grant him strength, and he acts as their conduit on the world at large.
Even Iatros has been able to get a better understanding of Chat through him.
…And also through Day talking about Theo’s antics over the years. So sue him– the piglin was arguably the last bridge not reduced to ash by the time Day had made his desperate deal. He might have spent decades in the world of the SMPza, but…a part of him could never forget that tiny sliver of hope.
Iatros might be his therapist, but Day still considers him a friend. Zephyr– usually just Phil– has become one, too.
They do share centuries of memories. Some of them are confusing, some are infuriating, some are fascinating, but they are still shared.
Phil only ever competed in one of the tournaments. Despite complaining that he was too old for it, he was still fifth.
Not bad by any stretch. Definitely worse than Day’s fourth, though– and well behind Vio's third, Theo’s second, or Aver's first place.
It had been a good fight. A familiar sense of joy had overtaken Day when the scrappy, snarling kid who had been through hell got his first gold medal.
Aver looked a hell of a lot like Theo had the first time his eldest was able to beat Day in a spar. Definitely older, but the look of hard-won victory still brought back a lot of memories.
So, Day had taken it upon himself to commission Atlas for a golden laurel wreath. Aver had laughed in delight and wore it for the next week.
As far as Day is aware, Aver's laurels are currently being worn by a life size cow plushie on display in Make It Sew.
That had all been years ago, of course. It was before Aster had been brought back– hell, it was before Perce had entered the picture.
His second youngest sometimes feels like he’s been with them forever. It's jarring to remember that there was a time before he or Lee were a part of the family.
He continues, "Christmas is another big holiday for us. It's…" he pauses, brows furrowing in thought.
"...It's a way to reaffirm the spirit of kindness that made them decide to stay here. It doesn’t matter if you've been here two weeks or two years; you get presents. There’s a lot of groups that hold open festivities, because just about everyone here has too much experience with being alone."
Prime knows that Day is familiar with it. He remembers the numb blur of time, blood, and agony that his time in Pandora's Vault became.
Even before that, though– when he was rapidly spiraling out of control– he spent too much time with only his server for company.
By the time things devolved beyond repair, even that was gone. There was just Day, his fury, and the crippling admin drives that ruined him.
He tries not to focus too much on that part of his past. Sometimes he's left breathless over his grief that he had to rip out a part of his soul, to murder the world that never understood why everything was going so wrong so fast.
"It doesn’t matter how fancy the gift is. What's really important, at least from what I've seen, is that you're thinking of the other person. I've heard a lot of stories about the Welcome Wagon reducing people to tears with origami or a box of snacks. One year, the Prank Guild heads hacked into the com network to send everyone a greatest hits montage of server prank wars."
Day remains completely and utterly convinced that they did it with help from the Redstone Alliance. Nobody has ever admitted as such, sure, but Day is incredibly suspicious that the compilation had Theo getting bested so many times.
…The number of times Vio looked like a clown was also pretty damn high. The T3 are united in their rock solid belief that the tech geeks provided the leg work for that particular 'gift.'
Caper and Spark, meanwhile, were able to add another onto the list of server guidelines. Hacking into the com network on that scale for anything short of an emergency isn't cool.
Funny, yes, but not great for the overall mental health of the server.
He stretches his wings out behind him, trying to work out a faint twinge. It's too easy to tune out physical discomfort and pain. This body might have never gone through horrific torture, but Day damn well remembers it.
His pain receptors are, as far as he can tell, just permanently fucked up. It's…been an issue for him.
"And on Christmas night, most of the server gathers for a party. Some people dress up, others wear casual clothes, but it’s fun all around. Food, games, time spent with friends and strangers alike…even active prank wars get set aside for the night.” Another smile creeps up at the memories.
Day is definitely among those who want to dress up. It’s not only a chance to wear something nice, but to show off a lot of the fancier jewelry he’s gotten over the years.
To him, Christmas night is magical. Seeing so many people he’s offered a hand towards gathering together, laughing and talking, in a server shaped not by war but peace…
That feeling is not something he could ever fully put into words.
Seeing his sons in that atmosphere in particular makes him emotional. He still feels a horrible sense of guilt for the suffering that his eldest four endured on the SMPza.
Having them be so carefree, with so many others who care about them…
Yeah, he needs to go to another event. If he doesn’t, he might start crying.
The best way to redirect is, as always, to reflect on the Prank Guild’s actions.
He huffs softly as he says, “April Fool’s day is omnipresent, inescapable, and officially sponsored by the Prank Guild. My understanding is that they make bank. Some people go into lockdown.”
Day’s family is not among them. As long as there aren’t recently-rescued guests in Summer Hills, it’s the best time of year for anyone to try to prank them.
Plenty have tried. A lot have failed, and gotten a taste of what the Was-Taken family can do when sufficiently motivated.
The ones who succeed get a full taste of it. It’s maybe a little too satisfying to see them realize the gravity of their actions far, far too late.
Being able to see their glee turn into regret in real time is definitely petty of him. But at the same time, he only pretends not to be a chaotic bastard at heart.
His kids had to learn it from someone, after all.
But there's plenty of other, less benign things they've learned from him. He can’t help but feel an ache in his chest when he thinks about how much they've all suffered because of his selfishness.
Tone much more serious, he explains, “On the day before the anniversary of the server's creation, we mourn. For people, for places, for things– everyone in Sanctuary has lost something. A collective day of remembrance lets us all grieve. Some people do it alone, others with friends or family. We usually light candles or send lanterns made with seaweed out over the ocean. There’s no wrong way to do it, though.”
Prime knows his own style has shifted over the years. It had been something he did only with his sons, at first.
Then Iatros gently suggested that he should take at least a few hours to focus on his own grief, instead of only theirs.
It was good advice. Day takes time in the morning to let himself ruminate on his past. He's lost so much, and he’ll lose so much more before he's through.
After that, he joins his sons to have a slightly less somber remembrance. He tells stories and listens to the ones they tell, in turn.
He sighs softly. “And…the next day, we celebrate healing. We come together and have a festival to declare that no matter our pain, we're still here. We've escaped hell and found a place that prizes kindness and love. How can we not love that, after we've suffered so much?”
A faint smile creeps up again. It's hard not to, when he thinks about the years he's spent marveling at the way none of them can stand to let negativity linger for too long. Many of the current residents have had a bad parting be the final time they spoke to someone, after all– and that regret has shaped them into the people they are today.
The Night of Flight and Dawn of Sanctuary are two halves of a whole. Pain and grief will find you, yes, but there is always time to heal.
How sweet. You should write greeting cards or something.
Day startles, his head snapping up like he can spot whoever just spoke.
Oh c'mon, DayDream. You're smarter than that!
You don't want to bore me, do you?
A shudder goes down his spine. The flex of power in just those words makes the situation painfully clear.
This is some form of divinity, and boring them is dangerous.
They want to be entertained, like Day is only there to put on a show for them.
A peal of laughter, almost staticky at points, rings out. Fuck, you have no idea how right you are! Why did I bother staying quiet for so long, if it's this much fun speaking up?! Being silent doesn't suit me, anyway. Too much of a showman–
The door slams open, and on the other side is Theo. He looks distressed, a fact that diverts Day's attention from the likely-malicious entity.
“Dad, we have a fuckin’ problem–” Theseus, your timing sucks. I spent so long waiting, and NOW is when you show yourself?!
Theo grits his teeth. “It's been ten minutes.” Hah! If only you knew.
A bitterness lies under those words, but Day is too busy getting up to put a hand on his son's shoulder. “What do you want from us?”
I'm sick of hanging back. This whole mess is going to get stalled out forever unless something changes, anyway. Two birds, one stone.
That explains nothing.
You don't need to understand. You'll figure it out eventually, even if I don't tell you.
Jaw flexing, Theo hisses, “You act like you're above retaliation from other gods. Do you think that Time–”
Laughter booms so loud that they both wince from it. Half-hysterically, the voice repeats, Time? TIME?! I know you're not supposed to know, but holy FUCK…of all the threats you could have made, that's the funniest. It's a dumb one, too– it's not like they'd take your calls.
Day narrows his eyes. It feels like a trap, but–
“Who said we're the only ones who can call?”
A giggle sounds out. Sure; I'll back off if the Observers can get Time to scold me. What could outrank the embodiment of time and reality, anyway?
Somehow, Day doesn't find any comfort in that promise.
Hello Fates, tis I again. I just wished to inform you that, I can make out some sentences, some words, but more often than not I just hear a veritable mess of sounds. Though I will admit that some words come in clear, but in a language I'm not familiar with. It is most odd, but not my place to press. Maybe I should see if Chat is similar. Hmm. Have a good day.
Theo gets stopped in his tracks by the chorus of voices in his head shouting over each other. He suspects they're trying to figure out what words are clear, but he’s more concerned about the sudden headache he’s been inflicted with.
He’s left a bit off balance from the barrage. "Fuckin'-- shut," he groans, willing his head to stop trying to escape his skull.
Oop Too far? I think so, yeah Sorryyy Theo
He grunts, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. The sun, which had been warm and inviting all of two minutes ago, now feels oppressive.
This is definitely one of the least fun experiences he’s been 'gifted' by the Observers.
Weirdchamp name, in his books, but hey– he didn't get to name them.
And with that, his day goes from kinda sucky to outright shit.
They shouldn't know about that. Nobody should– not to this extent. He was careful about what he researched or spoke about.
Not even his dad knows. He can’t know, because he would try to stop him.
Theo knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that his dad doesn't plan to live once they’re all gone. But Theo has spent a lifetime honing his skills to keep his stupid, idiot dad alive. If he's there, even if only a little longer, he can drag his dad through the grief.
Family first. No matter what.
Hearing that there are entities who know his goals to that extent…is distressing. More than that, it's insulting.
How dare they imply that he would abandon his dad to his grief? How dare they ask him if he's thought about the consequences of this?
The consequences of turning a blind eye to the future are too high to back down.
"Fuck you," he hisses. Rage curls the edges of his words despite knowing he can't murder who or what dared to ask him that question.
He starts to stalk off. He's going to do literally anything but humor these assholes.
"Do you want to know a secret, Theseus?"
Theo stops in his tracks again. There’s not much that unsettles him, but a cloying sense of wrongness is humming in the back of his head.
This voice isn't the same as the Observers. Who or what ever this one belongs to, they are not to be idly snubbed.
He swallows, but gives a slight nod of his head. He’s not thrilled at being singled out like this, even less so to learn 'a secret'.
And especially not coming off the heels of the last two things he heard.
Even the Fates go quiet, unsure what to make of this.
"Admins," the voice giggles, "don't age like you do! Would you really leave your poor dad and baby brother all alone? You'd break their hearts."
Something in Theo’s chest squeezes at the idea of knowingly damning the two of them to that kind of pain. If Lee does become an admin here, and he really does age differently, then there's no telling how long the two of them would live with that grief.
Sounds like a lie? We'd know, right? There’s no way we wouldn't have noticed by now. …Does Lucid look any older, though? It’s only been like, what, five years? Max? That's nothing. We could ask? No way. If it's true, he'd have too big a reason to get Lee to stay. But if it’s not true, we'd be worrying for nothing. We gotta know more, though. Could ask other people on the downlow?
"It doesn’t matter," he says. "S' not something I'm fuckin' doing anyway."
The voice laughs. Something about it feels cruel. "Your loyalty is so…deep. But you don’t know anything else, huh?"
He wants to curse them. He wants to tell them to eat shit and die in a ditch. He wants to write this off as something toying with him.
He can’t, though. He keeps his damn mouth shut, because he knows that pissing off something powerful is a one-way ticket to regret and misery.
"God, you're so boring," the voice whines. "It's no fun when you're smart. Not when you're not the one who can figure it all out."
…The contradiction confuses him. He’s boring because he’s smart, but not smart enough? How the fuck does that make sense?
It sounds like the voice blows a raspberry. "You're not the reason I spoke up, anyway. Go run along and tell your dad what a fun chat you've had."
He grits his teeth. Even if he wants to demand more information, doing so is too dangerous.
Instead, he turns on his heel. He needs to talk to his dad– things have just escalated.
Hiiii sweet siren Orpheus! I can't help but wonder if you ever thought of turning your singing into magic. Maybe simple spells powered by your voice, more complex melodies casting greater power?
“Weirdchamp way to start a question,” Orph notes. “But that’s a good idea.”
Theo makes a questioning noise, though it’s muffled by the muffin he’s shoved into his mouth. The two of them are in the main house’s kitchen. Orph had been in the middle of grabbing leftovers– which have passed the grace period and thus are now free for all– and Theo was been passing through.
Their dad enjoying cooking and baking came with many benefits. Some of those benefits came at the cost of having had to suffer through his early attempts at them. In some ways, Perce and Lee had no idea how good they had it.
Orph can still remember how much of a gamble it could be on if meals would be edible, or if they would have to make due with the standby of bland crafted food instead.
At least their dad had never argued that they needed to eat it. Even when he, somehow, didn’t realize just how much of a culinary abomination he had made, he would accept when the four of them said that it was inedible.
“Askers wanted to know if I could put magic in my music," he explains.
Theo’s brow furrows as he chews and swallows. "...So a bard, like the fuckin' class in those tabletop game type deals?"
Oh, huh. That's true; it's more or less the same thing. Before he can agree, Theo adds, "I know bards get around a lot, but if you start making fuckin’ bedroom eyes at the fish–”
Orph’s eyes flash with anger. “That was a joke! I was ten, you asshole!”
Theo grins, way too smug for his younger brother’s taste. “But it’s funny.”
Not even a breath passes before Orph has his crossbow out and aims at his eldest brother. “Fuck you.”
There’s a little yelp of surprise as Theo gets clipped by a slowness arrow. He seems to realized exactly how fucked he is when Orph lunges at him with his dual short swords.
