An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Far Cry 5
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Nick Rye/John Seed, Kim Rye/Nick Rye
Characters: Nick Rye, John Seed
Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, I mean I think it is unless I lost track of that mess of a timeline yet again, other characters are there. they are there. some are even pretty important, and blanket warning for john seed, nick probably has adhd here it was not intentional, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Summary:
Nick first hears from John Seed on the phone when he’s sucking on his Friday afternoon cigarette. Well, he’s heard rumors about a rather large group of people moving to the county, probably couple hundred. It made local news of sorts. He wasn’t very interested; Hope County might not be a big place, but they live far enough from everyone, he and Kim, and if people want to find him, he’s got signs around.
John Seed left him a voicemail on his work telephone, starting off with a string of pleasantries, then asking if Mr. Rye would have any free time next week to take a look at his private plane after it arrives. He explained that he tried to pay a visit that morning, but Mr. Rye was out, and said it’d be great to know his availability and he looked forward to hearing from him. Nick listens to it with a hint of amusement, and has half a heart to start the reply message with “Mr. Rye is my father”. He leaves it though. It’s 3pm; he dusted crops since seven in the morning and didn’t really take a lunch break. He loves flying, but damn, he wants a beer after his routine check on Carmina.
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the zelda ii backstory idea had morphed once again into a LU fanfic idea bc i cannot stop brainrotting aurora and dawn’s relationship, esp in light of everything that happens with aurora pre-sleep curse
might also give lu hyrule daddy issues. stay tuned
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 3/?
Fandom: Far Cry 5
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Nick Rye/John Seed, Kim Rye/Nick Rye
Characters: Nick Rye, John Seed
Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, I mean I think it is unless I lost track of that mess of a timeline yet again, other characters are there. they are there. some are even pretty important, and blanket warning for john seed, nick probably has adhd here it was not intentional, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Summary:
Nick first hears from John Seed on the phone when he’s sucking on his Friday afternoon cigarette. Well, he’s heard rumors about a rather large group of people moving to the county, probably couple hundred. It made local news of sorts. He wasn’t very interested; Hope County might not be a big place, but they live far enough from everyone, he and Kim, and if people want to find him, he’s got signs around.
John Seed left him a voicemail on his work telephone, starting off with a string of pleasantries, then asking if Mr. Rye would have any free time next week to take a look at his private plane after it arrives. He explained that he tried to pay a visit that morning, but Mr. Rye was out, and said it’d be great to know his availability and he looked forward to hearing from him. Nick listens to it with a hint of amusement, and has half a heart to start the reply message with “Mr. Rye is my father”. He leaves it though. It’s 3pm; he dusted crops since seven in the morning and didn’t really take a lunch break. He loves flying, but damn, he wants a beer after his routine check on Carmina.
For those who aren’t aware of Afterlife’s premise: everyone has ten lives and a random origin. When they die, their origin is randomly rerolled.
So!
Tommy’s origin when he joins is imp-like. It fits his mischievous personality and tendency towards pranks during those early days when wars were just for fun and nobody got hurt. They were all still friends at the end of the day.
Tubbo’s second origin is more notable than his first. After dying in the Final Control Room, he respawns with thicker skin; more difficult to pierce and cut through. He credits his shulker abilities during his spy days as he smuggled information and documents to and from Pogtopia. It was easier then, to lock up his emotions into a neat and tidy box. He misses it sometimes.
Wilbur joins the server with wings. And just like his father, he is considered untouchable. His revolution shakes the smp down to its roots. His ideas set history in motion. After his first death during the revolution, he's suddenly grounded. Still, he presses forward. When he’s killed escaping into exile; his rapidly declining mental health and paranoia warps his origin. Dark thorns sprout around his throat, choking him. The vines overwhelm him, and not even he’s immune to their sting.
Tubbo loses his second life with a flash of colorful light and a bang. In what feels like a cruel twist of fate, he’s dealt the same origin as Schlatt: a goat. He mostly hides it during his presidency in shame, but after establishing Snowchester he fully embraces its stubborn nature. He won’t let anyone push him around ever again.
Tommy doesn’t get to enjoy his third origin much. It’s a painful switch: Wilbur losing his wings only for Tommy to gain his. The pain in his brother’s eyes and the guilt gnaws at him, so Tommy binds them away, so they won’t be seen. He’s finally able to fly; a dream he’s had for years, but he’s never felt more grounded. He cries when Ghostbur manifests, a pair of whole wings on his back as if they’d never been lost at all.Â
Dream clips his feathers during exile. Tommy dully thinks it’s a waste of time. No one ever taught him to fly.
Tommy is the one to finally slay the server dragon: Dream. The shattering of his mask, the wet crunch of his skull splitting twice. No one knows what Dream’s second origin would've been; he was still manifesting when Tommy drove the Axe of Peace into his head. It’s poetic. Tommy never knew his either: after the final control room, Tommy had stumbled from his respawn, discs clutched in his hands and skin still knitting together as he called for a duel.
Dream doesn’t know what to expect when he revives Tommy. Perhaps cheating death will unlock something new and terrible. Powerful. Something Dream can manipulate for his own gains.
Tommy opens his eyes and he's just human. Painfully, quietly, human with no cool powers or special abilities. It feels like a sigh of relief. He’s not special. He’s not. He just wants to live. Is that too much to ask for?
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hy, beloved!!! i must say i love your fics so much, you have a wonderful way of weaving world-building into your fics that's so natural and seamless <3, and i *adored* your awesamdad fic with moobloom hybrid tommy. i think it would be so interesting to see your take on dsmp during eggpire and the hotel arc, when sam was growing closer to tommy. maybe even sam growing overprotective and worried over tommy, wanting to take care of him when it feels like everyone else hasn't. of coure, there's also phil, which could lead to an interesting problem if sam was looking to adopt (coughcough custody battle coughcough)
regardless, write what you would like and im sure it will be amazing!!
Echo my beloved 🥺 You are so, so sweet I'm crying
Thank you for the fun prompt <333 I ended it very quickly because I realized I would end up writing 2k words if I don't stop myself LMAO
Sam watches Tommy through Nook's eyes as he works. His eyes flicker back and forth from his comm to the thick drawing paper; lines slowly merging and growing into the first, real draft of Big Innit Hotel.
Quite an undertaking it is. A living space for anyone who needs it. Transitioning from the ashes of another failed country in the server's barren landscape; a quick stop for rest while traveling; a home, maybe, for some.
His interest was captivated as Tommy explained the concept; nervous energy pouring off him in waves, knees bouncing under the table and fingers combing and recombing through his fringe of hair, catching slightly and tugging at his scalp.
He agreed instantly. Obviously.
Sam glances back at the screen, an amusement tugging at his lips. He made Nook so small, not even coming to Tommy's hip, every time the gangly teen is focused on he appears stretched tall like a giant. The pair's exaggerated height difference makes their friendship only more wholesome. The little tanuki robot happily chirps and waddles alongside Tommy whenever not directly needed by Sam. And he has more than once "caught" Tommy giving the animatronic pats on the head with a gentleness reminiscent of his old pet cow, Henry.
It's good to see him smiling again. With no slight amount of effort, Sam has to peel his eyes away from their current quest for the day: gathering the necessary blossoms to grind into dye powder. A bold and bright red would suit the hotel nicely, Sam decided very early.
His earpiece buzzes with Tommy's idle chatter, Nook's sensitive microphones transmitting easily across the several hundred-block distance. Between that and the gentle scratch of pencil and the ruffle of sheets as Sam references his notes, his workshop has an atmosphere of homeliness that he didn't know he craved until that moment.
Sam hums, relaxed in his chair, watching over the boy he'd irrationally come to care for so much. Nothing could ruin this.
Of course, that's when he hears the sound of talons. Eerie in the otherwise silence. A click-snap and jingling. A death toll since his arrival: sliding a sword between his son's ribs with love and reverence that earned him his moniker.
Sam stands from his desk, turning off the view screen on his comm and lowering the volume in his earpiece. Just enough that he can still keep track of Tommy's rambling.
"Philza," he greets blandly, a twitch between his eyebrows at how the avian snuck into his secure base.
A hollow laugh answers. Click-jingle. Click-jingle. Click. The Angel appears in the doorway, his smile crooked. "Ah. Warden. Just the man I wanted to see."
Sam detests the sly dealings that have become the norm on this server. The manipulations and games are tiring.
"What do you want?"
"Get straight to the point, don't you?" Philza says, entering the room and pacing alongside the wall.
Circling.
"I can do the same, I suppose," he muses. "I'll make this short and sweet: stay away from Tommy."
The avian's teeth snap on the name. Like he's consuming it, and Sam tenses.
"Why?" He recognizes a touch too late his mask has slipped. A note of protectiveness coloring his tone.
Tommy has nothing. No one. He doesn't need another thing ripped away from him.
Philza's eyes narrow. "He's an avian. A fledgling. He needs someone who can truly care for him."
Sam's hands ball into fists, gunpowder sparking in his chest and scorching his veins.
"Are you insinuating I can't?"
Philza's smile is cold and brutal, wings mantled threateningly and Sam reaches for his trident, knowing this is not an argument quickly resolved.
