Slowly, he turns his gaze from them to his red-faced boyfriend. “...Did you give me asters, Aster?” “...Maybe…” “And– goldenrod? Are these goldenrod?”

He's looked at blankly.

As cute as this is, Daz can't help but double over with laughter.

“I–! What, what's so funny?!”

He wheezes, “You– asters mean patience and elegance, for one!” “I– I forgot about flower meanings.” “Goldenrod are also known as solidago.”

It’s obvious that Aster isn’t aware of the hiccups with that fact.

“Growth, encouragement, good luck, good fortune–” “Those don't sound that bad.” “And caution.”

Aster looks dismayed. “But they're– little and stuff! They mean caution?!”

Deeply amused, Daz tells him, “More importantly, they’re Lucid’s flower.”

“...Fuck.”

Giggling to himself, Daz looks the sad bouquet over. It looks like Aster tried to make it himself, probably thinking it couldn't be that hard.

Even though it technically sends a really weird message, it's also incredibly charming. He must have put thought into it– just not the right kind of thought.

“You’re so sweet. I know what you meant.”

There are several rapid blinks, Aster asking him, “You– you do?” “Of course I do. Asters from Aster, mixed with yellow-colored goldenrods. You must have wracked your brain to find something just right. You even made the bouquet yourself. It's…”

He gives Aster a warm, genuine smile. “I might have laughed, but it’s also really cute of you. I love them.”

Aster chokes a little as Daz drags him into the aquarium. He links their arms together at the ticket booth, beaming at the person manning it. “Two, please!”

The expression on the Sapnap’s face is priceless. “...Are…you here on– on a dare?” “What? Don't be silly, we're on a date!”

He scans his card before either of them can recover. “It’s our first one! I even got flowers.”

Aster’s face is bright red, unable to look at the guy. “And you– you dressed up. It…looks nice. Uhm– y…you, look nice.”

As awkward as it is, Daz is once again deeply charmed by him.

He's clearly trying, even if he's not good at it yet.

It's a surprise that Aster noticed the change, actually; his usual breathable cotton shirts under butter yellow hoodies have been swapped for a short sleeve black turtleneck and grey-and-yellow pinstripe blazer.

His pants are still grey jeans, meaning he's not out of place next to Aster’s heretofore unseen polo shirt.

“You did, too. I'm pretty sure your shirt is new, right?” “...Yeah.”

Daz grins at him. “Silly to spend money on that now.” “I– don't follow…?”

He lowers his voice to a playful hum, telling his boyfriend, “I'm going to redo all of your clothes. I'll sulk for weeks if you wear someone else's work. Only mine.”

Tone returning to a normal chipper one, he adds, “But I haven't been clear enough about that yet, I guess! I'm going to be remaking all of your clothes and then some. You'll have a nice, big wardrobe made by your expert tailor boyfriend.”

Aster stares at him, mouth agape.

The reader chimes, so he takes his card back and steers his date inside.

“A– all of my clothes? But they work just fine–” “They can be improved. Also…it'll make me happy. It's a form of claiming, you know? A way for me to show how much I care. You're mine, Aster. That means I'm going to give you the best of the best. If I had enough free time, I'd be weaving the fabric, too.”

Taking the opportunity to take charge while Aster tries to wrap his head around it, he heads to his favorite area.

Axolotls swim around, playing with each other. A few of them break off and swim up to the glass near them– a blatant show of favoritism, since they're not the only people in the room.

He has no doubt they're instinctively drawn to him, either because he's a mod or because San likes him so much.

It's something he's used to by now. Mobs, especially animals, gravitate towards him.

At least axolotls are a hell of a lot cuter than other ones; any venture into areas with hostile mobs renders him a target.

Even cows and sheep can be a headache, given their bulk.

Wiggling his fingers at the cuties, he coos, “Hi, little guys! How nice of you to say hello.”

Aster, to his credit, manages to clock the situation faster than Daz thought he would. “You've been here before.”

“It’s been a while though,” Daz tells him. “Plus you'd have trouble finding somewhere I haven't been. I check out places to be able to add them to the database. You could have taken me anywhere from the movies to blackjack to a strip club and I'd have been there.”

It’s actually a problem, because he’s desperately tried to convince people to willingly submit their new businesses for the database. There’s a fucking reward system, and yet nobody bothers!

He’s even tried adding it into orientation, and yet it did nothing. Why the fuck do none of them want the free money he’s trying to hand them?! 

Disbelieving, Aster echoes, “You've been to a strip club?” “I was curious what it was like, I was curious if I'd enjoy myself, and I wasn't going to ask one of the others to do it for me. Weirdchamp thing for a boss to ask you to do, and I try to have some idea of the places in the database.”

The others might give him shit for some of his actions, but he does still have lines he won’t cross.

The stare gets more intense. “And?”

“I didn't care for it. Kind of boring, honestly? I decided that I'd exclude that genre of establishment from my research.”

He'll choke down shitty food, but he's pretty sure it wasn't fun for anyone involved to have him politely disinterested at even what's supposedly one of the nicer strip clubs.

One of your few smart decisions. It was weird.

It was awkward and uncomfortable. He couldn't see any appeal, at which point he just kind of assumed he had no interest in anything of that nature.

Now, he's reconsidering that he might just be…selective.

Aster seems to relax a little.

…Was he jealous?

Leaning against his boyfriend's side, he teases, “Now, if you want to put on that kind of show for me–” “Daz.” “I'm just saying, it'd be way more likely to do something for me.” 

“I don't appreciate being mocked.”

The quiet mutter makes him scoff softly. “Teasing, sure, but mocking? You're being silly. Almost as silly as you sulking at the idea of me liking the sight of anyone else like that.”

Consider the third person that's going to get tangled up in your bullshit.

No, actually, he will not be doing that. Innit can fuck off and stop providing unwanted commentary!

Aster makes an affronted noise, protesting, “I was not sulking.” “You relaxed when I said I didn't like it.” “That– that's not sulking.” “If I had said yes you definitely would have sulked.” “Daz.”

He grins, twining their fingers together. “Yes, honey?” “You’re giving me mixed signals.” “Oh? How so?”

Heaving a sigh, Aster explains, “You– keep laughing at me, then calling me cute or sweet. You got– kind of possessive, and then mocked me for not liking the idea of you looking at someone else.”

Daz’s eyes widen as Aster cups the side of his face. “Drape me in your work, fuel me with your cooking, curl up in my arms every night…but don't laugh when I want to have some part of you that's all mine.”

He breathes out, head fuzzy from instincts, “Yours.”

A pleased smile curls on Aster’s mouth as his thumb runs just under Daz’s cheekbone. “Mm-hmm. You’re mine, just like I'm yours.”

Daz sways against him, clinging to Aster for support. Aster hums, his arms circling around his middle. “You look drunk.”

“Instincts,” he mumbles into his partner's shoulder.

He can feel how much Aster likes that answer. “Just hearing that wrecks your brain?” “Affirmation of bond. Feels– warm. Accepting. Good.”

There's another hum. “Makes me wonder if you'll be able to walk after I give you a claim.”

Definitely not. Tell him not to do it before I'm free, I don’t want to be there if things get weird.

Instead of bothering with that, Daz asks, “You’re– have you started it yet?” “...No. But I– I mean, I want it to be special. Using the ones we've seen feels like cheating. I have some ideas, though. I– uhm, I want to be sure it's right. I know it's really important, so…”

He tilts his head to be able to study Aster’s expression.

It's such a familiar face, but the look on it– subtle for most but clear as day to anyone familiar with him– isn't.

Warm. Fond. Like nothing exists but the two of them in this moment.

Reluctantly, he pulls back a little. He wants to stay like that, but Daz is aware they're in public.

This is already going to cause a firestorm of gossip and rumors as it is. Daz can handle it– has handled worse– but he doesn’t want to totally ruin Aster’s peace of mind.

Instead, he twines their fingers together again. Bringing it up and kissing the back of Aster’s scarred hand, he says, “We can plan on a day to give them to each other. I'm– it's going to wreck my ability to do much of anything. I will tell you that I am going to be weaving for it, though.”

Aster seems surprised. “You will?” “It's important. I can…”

For a moment, he hesitates. He usually doesn't want others around, and it's important to him to have some secrecy.

But at the same time…

“I haven't– haven't done it in a while. If you want to watch me while I get familiar with it again…”

A wide grin spreads across his boyfriend's face. “Yeah– yeah! I'd– I'd really like that. Will you let me watch you work on an endless number of undershirts for me, too?”

He scoffs. “You’re thinking too small. Once I'm happy with one, I'll just copy it to a suitable number. It's my own work, my time is valuable, and if Aver whines about fabric I can throw more money at him.”

That seems to take Aster by surprise. As they meander through the aquarium, his boyfriend asks, “That makes sense to me, but I know you're worried about perceived abuse of power.” “Anyone else who wants to complain is first required to handle at least one fourth of what I get done in an average day. It serves nobody's interest for me to make the same thing a dozen times. I've already been doing it for my own stuff, anyway.”

The reflection of the water shows on Aster’s face as they watch dolphins playing. A few of them come closer, showing off and vying for his attention.

“I’m surprised you decided that was fine,” Aster notes.

After a moment, Daz admits, “You get used to taking certain shortcuts. Even if you break them, it’s easy to fall back into the habit.”

A shadow passes over Aster’s eyes, his hand squeezing Daz’s.

It’s a gentle squeeze, though; careful and measured, in spite of whatever Aster just saw. He knows his own strength, and knows how to make sure he only hurts what he intends to.

He can tell that Aster saw something, though. There’s always a subtle shift in his expression, and it makes it easy to tell.

Instead of commenting on it, Aster instead tells him, “If you start making a whole wardrobe for me without making anything for Lee or Raine, I’m pretty sure they’ll kill both of us.” “You’d get wrecked by Lee, of course, but mostly because you’d sooner take the L than hurt him. Raine, though…I mean. C’mon, now.”

“I feel like he’d be insulted if he heard that.” “He’d be delusional if he thought he could beat you in combat. Even with a perfect trap, I just…don’t think that’s possible.” “I can think of a scenario where he could,” Aster chuckles.

With the sidelong glance and faint quirk of his boyfriend’s lips, Daz knows immediately that he means that it’d be possible if Daz was involved.

Pleased, he answers, “You’re so sweet.” “You don’t get enough credit for how capable you are. Prime help us if you ever use that against us.” “Aww, you’ll make me blush,” Daz giggles, leaning into his side again.

The gossip spawned from tonight is going to dominate the minds and mouths of Sanctuary for at least a month. Like it or not, both of them are capital-I Important. They serve in very public roles doing very public good.

The server knows them and their habits– or at least thinks they do– and this is going to feel like a radical departure from that.

Aster surely knows this. He might not be the kind of schemer that Daz is, but he’s not stupid. If nothing else, he’s surely aware of how much everyone gossips just based off of how much Daz has bitched about it over the years.

Thus, his boyfriend is clearly exploiting the rumor mill on his behalf! Aster is setting him up as being capable, something that people will take notice of.

Aster’s own reputation means his words on such things carry weight.

There’s no way that’s intentional. You’re reading too much into it.

Spitefully, Daz murmurs in Aster’s ear, “You’re doing this on purpose, right?”

The corner of Aster’s mouth twitches upwards. “I think you’ve been underestimated for too long, is all.”

He’s definitely enjoying the subtle, almost subconscious flex of power that Aster is using. The renown that Daz half-bullied him into obtaining is now being used to make Daz feel all the more special.

His instincts pulse in the back of his head, making him grin back at him. “I’m so tempted to kiss you right now.”

Face turning red, Aster mutters, “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” “Why do you think I’m lying?”

Turning towards him to look into his eyes, Aster answers, “There’s no way that you would want to kiss me for the first time in public. You’re already acting tipsy. You’d never make it worse by doing something with so many unknowns in a place like this.”

Gods, the way that Aster is right makes Daz wants to prove him wrong.

Evidently sensing that, his boyfriend turns a little more red. “Please don’t risk me needing to cancel the rest of my plans to literally carry you home.” “But–” “If you’re going to kiss me, shouldn’t you make sure I did a good job first? You might hate what else I planned on.”

If it was given as much thought as everything so far, that’s impossible.

The effort is clumsy, but all the more endearing for it. Aster so obviously has no experience with anything remotely like this– not that Daz doubted that, of course– but is still trying so hard.

It’s exactly what he needed. He’s spent so long planning and scheming that…he finds himself willingly, eagerly helpless in the face of this kind of awkward care.

“This is amazing,” he finds himself answering. “I– I know you did a good job.” “Really?” “Really. It’s…just right. I don’t need perfection, not from you. You did research for me. You made me a bouquet. You bought clothes, even! I…I’m really happy.”

Aster lights up, clearly pleased with that praise. “Good. That’s all I wanted. You deserve it– deserve happiness. Even if you can’t believe it yet…I’ll wait for you to accept it.”

Good god, get me out of here and find a fuckin’ room. In that order, don’t you dare try the other way around.

Really not Daz’s fault that Innit keeps trying to stir the pot rather than focus on the task of crafting a body that won’t end up with one or both of them dead.

Which it really should be aware of. Its causing its own hell, so maybe it should be quiet and tune this all out.

Aka, if it doesn’t shut the fuck up and stop third wheeling Daz’s date, he is going to turn into a petty little bitch and bother it right back.

Despite Innit sulking and huffing in his head, he says, “You’re right, though; kissing you can wait. I’d hate to ruin your plans! Besides, this is too public for that.”

Aster nods, looking at once relieved and ever so slightly disappointed.

“You know,” his boyfriend says, “I can’t help but notice that all of the animals keep swimming over to us.”

Oh, he was wondering how long it’d take for him to notice. “Yeah, that’s normal. All mobs kinda just– gravitate towards me? I’m pretty sure it’s ‘cause San likes me. It uh…causes some problems. At least with hostile mobs.”

“Wait– how long has this been–?” “Mm,” Daz says, sucking in the air through his teeth. “I dunno, kinda the whole time I’ve been here? I’ve always been good with animals, though. They just– cooperate? Are nice, I guess…?”

With a shrug, he watches as various marine life linger nearby before eventually moving on. Usually, once mobs see him for a bit, they’re content to continue with their usual routines. “Piglins really like me, too. Then again, I mean, I wear a ton of gold.”

Aster hums in agreement, brow subtly creased. “You do.” 

There’s a short pause, and then Daz feels scarred fingers gently rub the piercings of one of his ears. “I think you should try some new shapes, though.”

“L– like…?” “I think a silver star would be nice. Maybe with a piece of basalt in the middle, yeah? It’d be a nice compliment for your actual item.”

Daz’s breath hitches. “You’re going to make me want to do more for you.” “Then I’ll double down until you run out of things to do.”

A laugh bubbles out of him. “Are– are you seriously getting competitive over that?” “Maybe,” Aster hums.

It’s obvious that his boyfriend is enjoying flirting with him, and Daz finds that he’s enjoying it too.

The attention of someone he cares about being focused on him in such a public way is absolutely intoxicating.

Despite Daz having to push him to have a date at all, Aster seems to be making the most of it and making his intentions very, very, very clear.

Daz…has gotten used to a certain type of hunger. Of being touch starved; of his admin soul thrashing against his netherite-willed refusal to harm the people he still struggles to admit he cares for.

It’s still new and startling not to flinch away from the thought that he does care for them. He keeps starting to try and bargain with the curse– try to convince it that there’s no true connection in much the same way he was able to argue with his enchantment– before remembering that he doesn’t need to.

Before remembering that there is no curse. He’s free to love and be loved, and such a thing is so alien that it almost hurts.

A good kind of hurt, though. It's not unlike lancing a boil; the misery as you force the infection out, and then the bruised skin that's left behind.

This ache is a good ache. He’s flushing the toxins out of his body, mind, and soul, leaving behind…

Well, Daz isn't normal and never will be. But despite the long-festering wounds inside of him, maybe he can reach a state that could be called healthy.

“Boss?!”

Daz startles out of his thoughts as they’re approached by a Dream Team trio he immediately clocks as part of the Swords and Shields.

Kind of hard not to, given they're all wearing the earcuffs identifying its members.

“Holy shit, you’re at an aquarium?” “I thought you hated stuff like this,” the Dream notes. “You said it sounded boring.”

Aster clears his throat, still awkward as ever in situations like this. “I…might have said that, yeah.”

Daz squeezes his boyfriend's arm, leaning against his side to pout, “You took me somewhere you think is boring?! Star.”

“It’s not–! I didn’t know for sure, and I was–”

Seeing him flounder like this, a flash of panic in his eyes, is maybe a little too entertaining.

With a tone like he's making a joke, the George scoffs, “Took you here? What, like a date?”

Daz beams at him, wishing he could kill all of them for intruding. “Got it in one! I got flowers and everything. He even got a new shirt, which I told him was silly ‘cause I'll be remaking all his clothes soon–”

“Pfft, yeah, right.”

He lets his smile fade until his expression is entirely serious. Staring at them with wide eyes, he says in an even, almost warning tone, “I'm not kidding.”

Because Aster isn’t an idiot, he intervenes before Daz takes things any further. “He's not. We're dating. This is our first one, actually.”

Evidently concerned about him, Aster turns his head to study him. Threading their fingers together, he murmurs, “It’s going to take some getting used to. We knew this.”

“I don't like being called a liar about things I take seriously,” Daz mutters. “Especially when we were already…I've been making food for you for almost a month. And we– you've been helping me with my…problem.”

He's tugged forward into a hug, even though Aster must know part of this is just him being pissy they were interrupted.

“Other people don't really know about that, though,” his boyfriend gently points out. “We've both been extremely firm about being aro/ace, too. It makes sense that others would be confused.”

Sullenly, he slides his arms over Aster’s shoulders and presses his mouth to his shoulder. “But it's annoying,” he mutters, willing the interlopers to fuck off already.

“I– uhm, yeah, what the boss said,” the Dream stammers, seeming the most uneasy out of the trio.

Makes sense, given he had been in a rough place with his original Tommy.

None of this group came from the same world, instead having formed a bond within the Swords and Shields.

Aster sighs softly, carding a hand through Daz’s hair. He can’t help but sink against him, relaxing from the familiar motion.

Then his boyfriend leans in to murmur, “I planned on us doing Bedwars after this. You want to drag them there and let them see how well we work together?”

Daz perks up, pulling back just enough to grin widely at him. Leave it to Aster to know exactly how to lift his spirits. “Date saved! Let's do that, please.”

He extracts himself from Aster in order to turn to the trio. “Because you were jerks and interrupted our date and called me a liar, you're going to come play Bedwars with us! Then we'll be even.”

The George protests, “How is that fair?!” 

“If you don't want to do that, it's okay! I'll just hold a grudge and exact revenge in less obvious, immediate, and stoppable ways.”

With a giggle, Daz says, “Gosh, did you know that I, like– know a whole lot of people? It'd be suuuuuper easy for me to make a few calls and kinda just–”

He mimes an explosion, complete with a sound effect.

“--y'know? I don’t usually use my connections for that kinda stuff, buuuuuuuut for this? Mm…yeah, no. Be it a tithe of bruises or a tithe of gossip, you will pay for this.”

Aster warns, “I'm not going to be able to stop whatever he starts. If you have any sense at all, you'll just come play the damn game. Then, at least, you'll get a chance to see Daz in action.”

Bright and bubbly, Daz giggles, “Surely my nosy juniors want to know just how good I am, right?”

“I’ve heard rumors the only person good enough to spar with you is Aster,” the Sapnap says, clearly doubtful. “And didn't you join after us–?”

“Daz was an early member, he just never came into the training hall,” Aster tells them.

Ever-so casually, Aster rubs the shield charm on Daz’s earcuff.

Maybe, one day, he'll wear his real one. For now…he still needs to keep some secrets.

“I was there for the Blind Man’s Bluff game, you do not want to fight him,” the Dream mutters. “It was– it was like he was hacking!”

Again, Aster says, “If he decides to retaliate, I can’t do anything about it. Not just because we’re dating but, I mean–” “You’re still mad about the Among Us games, huh?” “So mad.”

Daz grins at his partner’s sullen expression. “I’ll make it up to you later?” “You could make it up to me now.”

He laughs, bright and cheerful. “Oh, Star…you don’t want me to make it up to you here. There are witnesses, yeah? I thought we agreed to save that for when we’re alone.”

Adorably, red spreads across Aster’s cheeks and his gaze skitters away. “I– uhm. Didn’t think you meant– that.”

“You can be embarrassed,” the Sapnap says, like that’s an alien concept. “He’s all shy at the thought of getting a kiss! It’s so sweet, and I’m going to abuse that fact ‘cause I love this side of him,” Daz giggles.

“Daz,” Aster squawks, staring at him in minor horror. “Yes, dear?” “Do you have to be like this?” “You know the answer to that,” he hums, idly twirling a strand of his own hair around a finger.

Because he’s staring at his boyfriend, he sees the exact moment that he decides to get even. Chin kicking up, Aster tells him, “I’m going to carve a bracelet for you and I will need multiple tries to make sure it’s perfect. So while you’re plotting all those clothes, make sure anything you make for yourself shows off your wrists. Mine, too, obviously.”

His brain breaks a little.

“You’re– doing a bracelet?” “Mm-hmm.” “For me. I’m getting a bracelet from you?” “And I’m going to carve it myself. I bet I can get help for the stones and any metal, because I know it’s important that I do the work on my own.”

Oh. Oh.

Warmth fills his chest so much it’s hard to breathe. He almost feels dizzy from it, from–

Love, maybe? He’s not sure; he’s not entirely positive he’s capable of that feeling.

A pair of hands cup his face, and Aster smiles ever so gently at him. “You like the sound of that?”

He nods, unable to find words.

“Good. Are you even able to think right now?”

He shakes his head.

“Even better. That clever admin brain getting wrecked was the entire point of saying it,” Aster hums. He’s clearly pleased, his thumbs running over Daz’s cheeks with unexpected tenderness.

Meekly, he nuzzles one of his boyfriend’s palms. “M’ yours?” “For as long as you’ll have me.”

The idea of rejecting him makes his chest sting. He mutters, “You’re mine now, too. Goes both ways.”

Aster snorts, smile growing. He teases, “It’s really unfair how cute you are like this, Daz.” “Mmh?” “It’s…I dunno. You looking at me like this, all– all sweet and vulnerable…makes me want to give in to your every whim.”

Right now, the only thing he wants is to be as clingy as possible. Eyes getting bigger, he pleads, “Then let’s go home? Takeout and a movie sounds really nice.”

“...On one condition.”

At this point, he’d do anything.

Aster turns his head, and Daz abruptly remembers that they have an audience.

…An audience that has actually grown a fair bit since this all started.

“Forgive them, and you’ll get all the cuddles you want. I’d be very sad if you tainted our first date by getting revenge for people not immediately realizing it’s a date.”

You should tell him no. Revenge is more important than anything else.

Damnit. Daz huffs, “I– fine, sure. Forgiveness, or whatever. You said you couldn’t do anything if I retaliated–” “Technically still the case. I’m acting preemptively, though, which is different. Damage control before the damage. Or, well, more damage than people realizing you’re not as innocent as you seem.”

“We have mandatory therapy for a reason,” he points out. “Very much not the point, Daz.”

Rolling his eyes, Daz shoves his wrist upwards. “Shut. I’m getting my cuddles, damnit, and now I’m going to pick where we eat from.” “Oh no, what a terrible price to pay,” Aster snorts, “you taking the task I have no idea how to do from me and I get to watch you be clingy. Truly, the worst timeline.”

“I know where you sleep.” “No shit, it’s literally next to you!”

Annoyed, Daz keys in the coordinates for his own home.

Aster stumbles, but quickly catches himself. “Did– wait, you teleported us?!” “Yeah, duh? Our business there was done, we decided to come home. Teleportation is a perk of my station, I’m going to use it when I don’t feel like dealing with annoying situations. Other people can set up stasis chambers anyway, it’s not like I did much different.”

His boyfriend opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again to say, “I– I guess? I still think it’s a bit–” “If you keep debating, I’ll pick the movie,” Daz warns.

“Is now a bad time to admit I don’t really know any movies? And, uh, kind of trust your opinion more…?”

The sheepish admission does make Daz snort.

You know, he had more things planned. You kinda ruined everything by being weird.

Annoyed, he hisses, “Will you stop?! You're the one who keeps wanting to indulge in drama, so shut the fuck up! Let me have my date in peace, asshole!”

“Didn't you two leave like, less than an hour ago? Daz, did you set something on fire?”

He grumbles in displeasure at the realization that Raine is lounging in the den.

Aster sighs. “We came home early. Daz’s brain kept getting wrecked from instincts. Aaand he was about to start throwing punches because someone asked why I was there.”

“Bold to think I wouldn't shank them.”

Raine's head tilts. “...So, out of curiosity–”

He's startled when Aster cups his face in both hands. Staring into his eyes, his boyfriend hums, “It’s kind of a relief that you wanted to just watch a movie and have takeout instead of the rest of what I had planned. Not only do I not have to worry about fucking up, but I don’t have to share this– this weirdly adorable side of you.”

Warmth blooms on his cheeks, his body swaying forward a little. “Mm. I just– it's hard to think. Or act. You keep…doing it on purpose. I'm– half tempted to just…order from somewhere we can get drinks…”

“Absolutely not. Do not get double drunk. Just because I can carry you home–” “You have a bed, too.”

Aster chokes a little, seeming at a loss for words.

What, is it that weird? They sleep in Daz’s bed, but Aster’s is somehow more intimate?

He doesn't understand.

Raine breaks in with a baffled, “This is weirder than I expected. I regret asking. Do I need to, like– go somewhere else tonight?”

“No,” Daz says, right as Aster says, “Yes.”

They stare at each other.

“Aren't we going to your house?” “That– okay, yeah, I kind of forgot that was an option. It's– small, though, and–” “Small means cozy.” “My bed is tiny.” “Ehh. I used to sleep on a couch. Your bed can't be that bad.”

There's a soft flinch, likely because Aster has seen just how tiny it was.

Daz tells him, “But getting drunk was a joke. You're free to cradle me in your arms all the way back to my room–”

With a soft whistle, Raine notes, “I've never seen you blush before. Fascinating that you're capable of doing that.” “So sue me, Daz is– he's good at making me feel all…flustered.”

“It’s my new favorite thing to do, I think. I'm pretty sure flirting is– oh, shit, right, let me put the flowers in something!”

As Daz locates an old vase he doesn't remember when or why he got, he senses Raine give Aster a confused look.

Whatever unanswered question he has is answered by Daz putting water in the vase and then carefully transferring his bouquet into it.

“...You got flowers. You brought flowers to Daz,” their mutual friend says slowly, seeming not to be able to process that fact.

He gushes, “Aster brought me asters! And also goldenrod.” “That…isn't that one taken?” “Solidago, Lucid’s flower. But it's really cute that he thought so hard about it! He got a new shirt, too. It was– clumsy, and awkward, and I'm like five seconds from kissing him.”

Aster slumps onto a nearby stool, burying his face in his arms. “Please stop teasing me about that.” “Still barely a joke.”

“Y'know what,” Raine says, abruptly heading for the stairs. “I'm gonna go– uh, it's early enough that Khons and Aleph are probably awake still…? Or maybe I can go hang out with Theo.”

“Theo is dealing with some rough emotions right now,” Aster admits, wincing when Daz levies him with a suspicious look.

Slowly, his boyfriend admits, “Theo might have– look, I swear I didn't do anything crazy or obvious! But, uh, well…he kind of guessed exactly what we've been seeing. Soooo…I didn't feel right just– just lying to him about it when we were already gonna come clean soon.”

Is that why he's been so nice? Hah!

A little growl rises up from his chest. “And?” “He doesn't– it feels weird. He doesn't want to feel like he's your enemy, but more importantly, he just…doesn’t even know if he does want it.”

Daz’s sight is overtaken by the future versions of both Aster and Theo gently swaying in place. Twin little girls are nestled safely in their arms, old enough to be able to cling to their dads but young enough that they must weigh nothing.

Soft, cooing noises slip out of Theo. Avian sounds? There's a little chirp from the one future-Aster is holding, making future-Theo melt with blatant adoration.

Future-Aster laughs, “What, what did she say?” “She called me Dad,” Theo says, kissing the little girl's fluffy golden hair.

She trills, swapping to clinging to Theo. The other girl chirps the same way, trading with her twin to hang on to Aster.

“That's right, Aurora. We're both your Dads. Your poor Mama is taking a well-deserved break–” “We had to fuckin’ negotiate with him so he'd take a nap. You'd think he's raising you two alone.”

Aster snorts, cuddling the little girl– Aurora– and teases, “They won't understand how stubborn he is.” “That'll change real fuckin’ fast.” “I dunno– we're not exactly slouches in that regard.” “Meaning…?”

Aster grins, kissing Aurora's chubby cheek. “Our kids have so much stubbornness in them that it might beat our husband.”

Daz blinks, brow furrowed as he processes what he just saw.

“...How the fuck does that happen,” he mutters, baffled at the prospect of– what, kids with all three of their genes?

Heaving a sigh, Aster admits, “I– I saw that we have three kids. Twin girls and a boy. The girls have bluejay wings.”

…He doesn't follow.

“Theo’s wings were bluejay wings. His original ones, the ones that were taken from him. When I mentioned we have kids with bluejay wings– just, talking out loud, wondering who the surrogate is–”

Ah. “That's how he realized.” “Mhm. I– I didn't want to keep it a secret, I just…didn't want to ruin the date. I promise I was going to tell you tomorrow at the latest.”

Surprisingly, Aster seems genuinely concerned…and utterly sincere.

Is he really that worried about ruining the day?

He laughs softly, despite himself. He really can't bring himself to be mad at him over this.

“You did still break the agreement,” he notes.

Aster deflates. “I just– couldn't lie to his face when he already figured it out.”

He hums, “I'll have to punish you.”

Heaving a sigh, Aster shoves a hand through his hair. Tone defeated, he admits, “I– I deserve that.”

Daz tilts his chin up with two fingers. He tells his boyfriend, “We'll go on a date to a nice restaurant. You'll wear something fancy– really dress up for it. That means that one of the first things I make for you will be a suit. I expect you to wear it more than once, hmm?”

As Aster’s eyes go wide, Daz leans in and purrs, “The Christmas gala. You'll be wearing it there, too. I bet you clean up nicely– nice enough that it makes me the envy of the rest of the server.”

Swallowing hard, Aster stammers, “I– they'll be too busy being jealous of me. I mean…you're you. It’s– they probably already…”

Adorably, Aster’s face has turned red.

His boyfriend abruptly shoots his arm out, catching a pillow that was heading right towards them.

As Aster looks at the object in confusion, Raine huffs, “Get a room! I'm right here, and this is weird! Stop– being gross, and flirting like that right in front of me! Sure, I think you two should bang–” Daz chokes on nothing, and Aster turns tomato red, “--but I don’t need to be subjected to this nonsense in my own damn home!”

“I– you think we should–?”

Raine stares at Aster, then pointedly gestures to Daz. “He might chill the fuck out. Maybe.”

Affronted, Daz protests, “My problems are not that easy to fix!” “Says the guy who didn't bother to use the direct line to a god to ask if he’s actually cursed. And who has quite noticeably calmed down after allowing himself to admit he's gotten attached. Oh, and who now actually sleeps.”

Uhg. He hates that those are valid points.

Still, though. “Aster would probably explode if we did that anytime soon. If I don't take it slow, he might have a heart attack.”

I refuse to be stuck in here during that. Make sure I'm free first or you'll regret it.

“Innit is voicing objections as well. Technically, its making threats, but that’s besides the point. Doing anything before giving it a body would be unethical.”

Raine stares at him. Daz stares back.

Slowly, his best friend says, “I'm not going to engage with this further. It's pointless.” “Of course it is.”

He turns to Aster, who seems shell shocked. “C'mon, let's go to your place and finish our date.”

“C'mon, you gotta give us more than that,” Quizzy begs Raine, who shrugs a little. “Not unless you win, Quiz.”

“Real fuckin’ cruel t'bet such juicy gossip,” Caper huffs, looking quite a bit like he’s sulking.

Flatly, Raine responds, “I can always call Aster instead so he can give you the scoop himself. I'd love to watch you try to explain how you're trying to dig into his personal life.”

His smile is a technically-pleasant one that he learned from Daz.

Spark laughs nervously. “Hey now, there's no need for that–” “Or there's always asking Daz. Oh, wait– you did.”

Which had ended with Caper and Spark feeling guilty and learning nothing, because Daz wasn't interested in telling two notorious gossips why the fuck he and Aster were now awkwardly flirting at the Swords and Shields.

Usually it would be Daz here. He's a stickler for socializing, because he turns it into information gathering. 

But he had called out due to fatigue and, most likely, an attempt to avoid having to deal with the questions that he’d be badgered with. In a fit of boredom, Raine had opted to show up in his place.

Whereupon he learned that his two best friends are the hottest gossip in town.

Given what they've put him through over the years…he feels justified in dangling little morsels over this group's head.

Spark protests, “We weren’t trying to hurt his feelings!” “He can be touchy about certain things,” Raine shrugs. “It’s easy to forget, but my best friend is extremely traumatized. The wrong words at the wrong time send him into a tailspin.”

The fun part about that statement is that it’s entirely true.

He smiles at Jeste, who is still studying his cards. “C’mon, we don’t have all day.”

The guy sighs deeply and sets his cards down. “I fold. I try not to lose too much money here.”

“You play poker with Caper. Losing money is inevitable,” he answers.

Said Tommy makes a noise of offense. “The fuck does that mean?!” “You’re a ruthless capitalist. You’re literally in a capitalism groupchat. You’ve also had fuck only knows how long to hone misdirection and deception,” Raine scoffs.

Quizzy laughs. “He’s got you read for filth.” “Shut! I am not ruthless. I’m a fuckin’ bleeding-heart do-gooder.”

Spark pats his shoulder comfortingly.

Ah, there’s the Observer he could sense.

Because he’s got the most experience with questions, he answers first. “Sanctuary is my home. I’d be dead without it, and so would almost everyone I’ve become friends with. Anyone left alive would wish they were dead.”

Quizzy nods, the little ornaments on his jagged diamond horns swinging with the motion. “Things were bad in the SMPza. Atlas was trapped and his family wasn’t gonna leave him behind. I didn’t have a lot keeping me there besides him, so…following was an easy choice.”

Arms flung out, he exclaims, “And I love it here! Pranks are a part of life, I can get rich as heck, and there’s always something new.”

Jeste flexes the hand of his artificial arm. “SMPza was a hellscape by the end. I lost my arm to the Egg. The rest of me wouldn’t have been far behind. Even before then, though…it wasn’t a good place. I like it better here. It’s…fair. People are taken care of and treated with dignity. The jobs I get asked to do are less grim. Instead of trying to protect someone from a murder, I’m asked to stand guard while someone sets up a prank.”

The heads of the Prank Guild glance at each other. Caper speaks first. “Time loops were fuckin’ miserable. There were some good times, yeah, but it was…fuckin’ scores of years. Probably a few hundred, even. Nothing I could fuckin’ do but– flail uselessly. Try not to go fuckin’ crazier than I already was.”

“I don’t miss the Vault,” Spark says with uncharacteristic bluntness.

Caper leans against his side as his friend continues, “I don’t miss everything being erased. I don’t miss feeling alienated from everyone because I can’t– the person they knew the day before hadn’t been be for ten, fifty, a hundred years. It was hell.”

The two timeloopers seem somber for a moment, before Caper takes a deep breath. “But here? We’re fuckin’ free. We’ll age n’ die like we fuckin’ should. Our skills n’ shit– we can make people laugh n’ be entertained. We can get filthy fuckin’ rich n’ make friendships that won’t fuckin’ vanish.”

Impulsively, Raine reaches over and pats his hand. “And you have stupid amounts of power.”

“Gods, I love the fuckin’ power,” Caper agrees, grinning at him.

He flips his cards over. “Full house, by the way.”

Caper throws his cards down. “Fuck off!” “Yeah, I can’t beat that,” Quizzy groans, scowling at his own cards like they’ve betrayed him.

Spark grins and spreads his own cards. “Royal flush, stormboy.”

Extending his hand and making grabby motions, the Dream demands, “Fork over the info, I’m cashing it in right now.”

Because he’s not going to reneg on this, he answers, “Daz has been cooking most of Aster’s meals. They’ve gotten pretty close.”

“Holy fuckin’ shit. Are they– Raine. Raine. You’d fuckin’ tell us if they’re dating, right? Right?!”

He shrugs. “Probably! Assuming they put an actual label on it.”

The table is dead silent.

Slowly, Spark says, “They’re both kind of freaks of nature– in a positive way, I mean. But they’re weird, is my point.” Quizzy breathes, “We have no idea what dating would even look like for them. And Aster is so secretive…”

It looks like Caper has an epiphany. “They’re already fuckin’ dating n’ just not calling it that.”

Because he is, at heart, a troublemaker, Raine hums that little wedding tune under his breath as he shuffles the cards.

If his best friends want to get mad at him for this, well…

They can fuck off, frankly. He’s been in the middle of their unreasonable bickering for years, and besides that– they’ll get married and eventually have a goddamned kid.

Which is the truth! Daz and Aster have fought from the word go, evidently having been on less than awesome terms from the moment they first met.

Daz has confessed that he considered killing Aster at one point, before he learned that lives are infinite here. Aster has confessed that he was suspicious of Daz, and rightfully so, and it’s always pissed him off that nobody else caught on.

Predictably, being in the middle of them is an interesting experience.

Y’know, at one point, Raine would have rather died than ever interact with another Tommy. Yet now he’s not just close to two of them, he considers them his best friends.

More than that, they’re not just any Tommys. Both Daz and Aster, for the entire time Raine has known them, have been powerful. Aster’s power lies in his strength, fighting, and those who follow him; Daz’s power lies in his mind, questionable morality, admin spark, and social networking.

At any given point, either of them could have ruined him.

Yet, instead, Raine has become their closest confidant. They turn to him, over and over, in search of reassurance and friendship.

It’s as heartwarming and heady as it is surreal.

In a way, the idea of the two of them getting together isn’t the craziest thing in the world. Enemies to lovers is a trope for a reason, and the core reason why Daz picked so many fucking fights– his paranoid need to have a safety net in Aster being willing to kill him if he ever crossed the line– is gone.

But at the same time…it feels strange.

The idea that they’ll turn from him and seek solace in each other makes him feel weird. Maybe it’s a sense of jealousy, even if it’s not in a romantic sense. 

But if both of them are seeing the same thing, and agree on that being their future– and if Daz has spent the night with Aster (albeit probably not in a sexual way)...

Well, it’s probably already happening, right? And it’d be fucked up beyond reason to, what– say they shouldn’t get together?

Raine knows both of them better than anyone, arguably bar Innit. There isn’t a single person who comes close to understanding Daz, and Aster talks to him about some of the ugliest parts of his life.

There’s a beautifully carved wooden axe that hangs in Raine’s room. Delicate lines that seem closer to brush strokes form symbols that carry enough meaning that Raine sometimes gets overwhelmed just looking at it.

That’s another thing him and Aster have in common. He might not look it, but Aster has an artistic streak.

Not that Daz doesn’t, too. His clothing and sewing ability speak for themselves…and, probably, Raine will finally get to wear some of it.

The idea that Daz, despite how close he’s inched over the years, still kept that line between them not because he didn’t want to but because he was afraid that crossing it would kill Raine…

Fuck. That still makes his heart ache with grief for his closest friend.

Because, yes; despite how fucked up he can be, despite his pettiness and borderline sociopathy, despite Raine’s past–

Daz is his dearest friend.

There’s something awe-inspiring about how Daz looked at him and saw worthiness, saw something nobody else ever had. Daz plucked him from nothingness and, after making sure he was ready, revealed a hidden world to him.

The hidden world is something precious to him, now. The quiet power, the confidence of being on the inside for once in his fucking life– the secret fraternity of those with a common, albeit unhinged, goal.

If both Aster and Daz agree that that’s the future, and that they see a kid?

Then Raine believes them. He believes that they’re seeing their future daughter.

…Fuck, it’s so weird to think that, someday, they’ll get married and have a kid. A biological kid, by the sounds of it.

Knowing Daz, everything will be methodically planned and prepared for.

Azira will come into the world with arguably more power even than Lee. If admin sparks are genetic– which they might not be, nobody has any idea how they actually work– and the kid gets one because Daz is her bio dad…

Holy fuck, she’s gonna be untouchable.

Not only will Azira have her fanatically loyal dads, but from the sound of it, Day will be close enough to them that he’ll be like a grandparent.

Oh, and of course, Theo and Lee would be godparents. Raine too, probably, not that he counts for all that much. Aleph and Khons will likely be two more fixtures in her life.

All of that alone is a lot. But on top of that, if she is an admin…

Well. Admins are rare, and she’d be the first admin born in the server.

San would be a bit like a fairy godparent, bending the world to that kid’s whims. Probably– hopefully– nothing too crazy, but, well…San is apparently very fond of all existing admins.

An admin born on the server, related by blood to one of the existing admins, who is beloved by at least three of the aforementioned admins– and probably including Lucid, too?

That’s not a level of power you can reach without insane luck.

…Is it a little weird that Raine feels a vague sense of jealousy about that, too? That this kid will not just become the axis around his best friends’ lives, but be born into a life of love, luxury, and power?

Maybe something to figure out how to talk to his therapist about.

That odd feeling aside, though, he is genuinely happy for his friends. He’s glad that they’re finally burying their stupid fucking hatchet– something he’s championed for years now– and getting along.

He blinks and realizes that the Observers are still present and that he’s halfway through his breakfast.

“Was that not enough? Uh– so, it’s…weird, like I said. But not really in a bad way? I mean, I’m happy for them, obviously. I want them to get along, and I want them to be happy. Them having a kid will be surreal as fuck, but…if that’s what they do, that’s what they do. And that kid is gonna be spoiled rotten by literally everyone, so– she’ll have a good life.”

Feeling a streak of mischief, he adds, “In the meantime, though…maybe if they bang, Daz will be able to unwind for once. He’s wound tighter than a bow aimed at the moon, y’know? Sure, the idea is gross, but I don’t have to know anything about it.”

He pauses, and then tacks on, “Weird as it is to say, maybe they can both just– chill, once that’s a thing they’re doing.”

From how Daz taunted Aster in that surreal and upsetting meeting, it sounds like they do actually get up to…that.

Weird! Raine has never seen either of them show or express interest in literally anyone, beyond Daz mentioning a sort of clinical, aesthetic appreciation on very rare occasion.

He was under the impression that they were both aro/ace. Evidently, though, that’s not true…or, really, maybe they’re something close? Demi, or something.

It’d track if that’s what they’ve been all along, and their existing extreme feelings just kinda…flips to the other end of the spectrum and turns romantic.

Holy shit, actually– Raine cannot fathom a reality in which either of them cheat.

Both of them are loyal to the point of fanatic zealotry. Both of them hate the concept of traitors and betrayal.

If they do get together, and especially get married, and even have a kid…

Yeah, no. Once they decide on that path, there’s no going back. The two of them will probably do something stupidly stubborn like die in their sleep together rather than only one of them living.

…Will Aster move in here, or will Daz take it upon himself to redo Aster’s house and move in there?

Huh. Living alone would be…weird.

…Maybe it’ll be worth feeling out Innit, seeing if its cool or not. It definitely did fuck up, but as Aster pointed out– so did most of Sanctuary.

Plus the punishment was pretty damn extreme. And if Innit truly does just want to live in peace…

Granted, he was the one who brought Theo here first. But that was for a singular goal– a goal that Aster thwarted.

…He's isn’t sure he really believes that he's not cursed. And Lee doing something like he did will only draw the Scribe's attention to him.

Catching the interest of a being like that could lead to a fate worse than death.

Nothing he can do about it but try and divert their attention– try to make things interesting enough that they don’t bother focusing on Lee.

Currentl, the full Council, Lee included, are seated at their table alongside Day and Theo.

They've been listening to them explain what they've been doing. His allies are pissed at him but adamant that the Council is good for both them and the server as a whole.

“Daz can be an asshole, yeah. Deeply fucked up in a lot of ways that I've been worried about for a long time, but…” Khons gestures around them.

“The fact that he could make something like this, fully hidden from everyone? That's a testament to what he can do when he puts his mind to it. The fact that someone like that, regardless of the reasons, decided to help the server…”

Instead of letting the implication linger, Raine is more blunt. “If Daz had malicious intent, we'd all be cooked. I've heard bits and pieces of what he did to his ex-mentor. He might be a petty dick with even worse self esteem than we realized, but Khons is right. I've gotten a better view of him than…maybe anyone else ever has. Aster’s weird visions aside, obviously.”

Daz glares at said person, who is still not meeting his gaze.

Coward.

Raine keeps going. “You literally could not pay a dozen people to shoulder even half the load that he does. Even if they agreed, they would somehow be worse at it than he is!”

Day interrupts, “I'm going to need clarification and examples of what exactly he does that goes beyond the Welcome Wagon.”

That's his cue, then.

He leans back in his chair and scoffs, “I keep track of basically the entire server. Not with mod tools, but with gossip. If the Egg broke through, I'd be the first to realize. If we were somehow secretly invaded, I'd be the first to realize. If tensions rise, if prank wars go too far, if people are feeling unhappy in a dangerous way– I'm the one who fixes it.”

His console pops up with a message. There’s not a ton of people he's routed messages through his com like this, which means he can't hold off on answering.

As he scans the text, he frowns. “What dogshit timing. I can’t put this off– usually I'd walk off to do this, but I doubt I'm allowed to. So everyone gets to shut the fuck up while I put a fire out.”

He doesn't bother waiting for a response. He pulls his com out and puts it on speaker for incoming audio, puts his earpiece in for his mic, and makes a call.

It's easier to don his mask if he does so completely, so his body and face shift to worried but kind. “I got your message, Ten. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Tentra, a recently-settled refugee and Dream, hiccups. “I– I don't deserve to be here. Not after everything I've–”

“Don’t be silly! You made mistakes, sure, but so have lots of others. There aren't a ton of people here who can truthfully claim to be totally innocent. And, y'know– Sanctuary is really big on rehabilitation! Just because you did bad things doesn't mean you can't learn to do better,” he reassures, tone warm and gentle.

He knows why Tentra thinks his sins are unforgivable. He was from a fantastical world, a dragon who had been roused from his slumber when knights tried to slay him.

Enraged, he had gone on a rampage and laid waste to the knights and a nearby town. After that, he was hunted and nearly slain before the T3 showed up.

Innocents had died, and now that the fear and anger have subsided…Tentra feels every bit the monster he was claimed to be.

“I'm– if I stay, people will just get hurt!” “Even if that were true, we can kinda respawn as many times as we need. You can't really kill anyone here for good,” Daz points out.

He does not mention the caveat of will to live. No point in making things complicated.

The guy protests, “But they're still going to be hurt!”

He sighs softly. “You remember Day and Theo, right?” “Y– yeah? They were nice…and a little scary.” “Well, their family sorta stabs each other for fun. Theo regularly threatens to murder his dad in his sleep, and Day's response is just to laugh and taunt him. My understanding is that Theo has sincerely tried…and just kinda failed.”

Tentra sounds concerned. “Are they okay? That's…weird.” “I mean– Day did adopt two people who are cosmically just himself. So, like, weird is relative when it comes to them? Also, he's…got some unorthodox parenting methods. But the Was-Taken household is super loving, even if they also, like, lunge across the table to stab Theo and/or Perce during family dinners.”

He giggles. “As weird as it sounds, it works for them! Theo's best friend, Aster– the Swords and Shields guy? He's like, super big into fighting. The two of them do sparring matches all the time! He's actually like, super cool to watch; we call him the Comet for a reason.”

Staring Theo dead in the eyes, he drops his voice like he's sharing a secret and says, “Just between you and me? Aster is waaay more impressive. He’s, like– gosh, he was a pretty normal guy! And then he just decided to get really really good at combat. Sure, Theo is cool and on the same level…but he kinda got cheat codes.”

Theo makes an offended face and Daz flips him off. Tentra says, surprised, “Isn’t Theo really strong? So this, uh, Aster guy– he's on that level?”

“Yeah! And we kiiiinda have a mutual friend in Raine. You remember him, right? The kinda quiet Dream I work with. I bet if I asked nicely enough, he could get Aster to agree to something like…a demonstration, maybe? To show that even if you're a dragon, you're not the strongest person here. If you somehow like– totally lost it, there are people who could subdue you.”

That offer is met with silence for a few beats, and then a quiet, “I'd…really like that.”

Daz beams. “Awesome! I can set it up soon. In the meantime, how goes progress on finding a therapist?”

“I don't…know who to pick.” “That's okay! We have a ton of options and it can be confusing to sort them. Stop by the Welcome Wagon at some point soon, and I'll sit down and at least get you a shortlist, yeah?”

There's a sniffle. “Okay. Thank you, Daz. I– I feel a lot better, talking to you.” “I'm really glad to hear that. There’s no reason to leave, not unless you really want to go.”

Tentra sounds like he’s smiling. “I dunno if I believe that. But I'll trust in you, at least.” “You’re sweet. Any world would be lucky to have you, Ten.”

He hears that smile get a little bigger. “I'm pretty sure that's what I should say to you. I…I feel really blessed that I met you.” There’s a beat, and then Ten murmurs, “I'll let you go now. Thank you again, Daz.”

“Anytime,” he replies. He lets Ten hang up before taking his earpiece out and rolling his shoulders.

Day seems fascinated. “Why did you diffuse that?” “Because he’s a person who is best served in Sanctuary. It’s my job to make sure people who leave do so for the right reasons. Dragons are a bitch to rehome, too– d’you know what kind of considerations we have to have for that shit? So, yeah, no; I’m going to avoid that pointless hassle as much as possible. My time and energy are better spent elsewhere.”

Sullenly, Theo mutters, “Aster is not more fuckin’ impressive–” “I said that specifically to piss you both off. Congratulations on giving me exactly what I wanted.”

His attention shifts to Aster, who flinches despite still not looking at him. “You had better fuckin’ come through on this.” “Of course I will; I’m not that big of an asshole.”

When his glare intensifies, Aster shrinks down in his seat a little.

“Aster did a good thing,” Lee protests, and Daz just scoffs. “He invaded my privacy in a way I’m powerless to stop.”

The subject of his ire mutters, “I’ve told you my reasons–” “And I’ve told you, those aren’t fuckin’ good enough! You are so fuckin’ lucky that I can’t ruin you.”

Finally, Aster lifts his head to meet his gaze. There’s an odd look in his eyes, and an almost grim look on his face. “I don’t like this either, you know. It– your life sucks.”

In between breaths, the traitor suddenly goes pale. A shaky, almost uneasy laugh escapes him as he stares at the table. “I did not need proof, fuck, fuck, fuck–”

“...What did you see this time,” he asks, curious despite himself. “The fucking– Pogtopia. The worst part.”

Ah.

Interesting that he’s so distraught by that. “You had your own, didn’t you?”

Aster stares at him and says, half-hysterical, “Not like that, no! I could– lay down, at the very least! And there was– shit, there was some kind of light!”

Huh. Kinda fucked up that his own brother was worse than Aster’s Dream, in that regard.

He shrugs. “It’s not that big of a deal.” “Not that big of a–?!”

Eyes slamming shut, Aster takes several deep breaths. “I…can’t believe I’d take my Dream over him. Fuckin’ Prime…”

“It’s always the ones you love that can hurt you the most,” Daz hums, turning his attention back to the group at large. “An enemy hurting you is expected. A loved one doing so…well. That’s a special kind of treachery.”

Theo’s eyes are steely. “No fuckin’ shit. Especially when it’s your own fuckin’ parent.”

He corrects, “Brother. Phil and Techno were negligent and absent, but Wilbur…” “Of course it’s Wilbur,” Day mutters under his breath, wings poofing a little with distress.

The immortal scrubs a hand down his face and heaves a deep sigh. “I don’t– I don’t know that I can fully stop you. I’m pretty sure you’re capable of evading…pretty much anything I try and do to you, at least in part.”

“You’re correct,” Daz says, wary at where this is going.

“But here’s the thing.” Leaning forward and bracing his forearms on the table as he stares him down, Day tells him, “You’re not magically immune from the rules of Sanctuary. I’ll refrain from restraining you– all of you– on a few conditions. Your therapist, who you will be genuine and honest with, is going to be Iatros.”

Aster murmurs, “Closest thing we have to an expert on admins.” “Mhm. And he knows how to keep secrets without letting it affect how he acts too much. You’re also going to share information about the Scribe and Observers–”

“The latter of whom are already watching,” Raine tells him. Day grimaces. “Uhg…I hate that. I didn’t know they just– watched, without asking questions.”

Shaking his head, Day continues. “And you need to come clean to Lucid. He deserves to know–” “He’s the biggest fuckin’ threat,” Daz snaps as he shoots to his feet. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be under the thumb of an admin who’s snapped?!”

Day glares at him. “Your concern is noted. However, he has a dozen people closer to him who are more likely to notice something wrong before you. On top of that, it’s an extreme mental strain to not be able to drop your act outside of blackout rooms. For that reason alone, I’m putting my foot down about that.”

Daz seethes with rage. “Fuck you.” “Hate me all you want– but it’ll be better for you and everyone else in the long run. Shit– do you not want Lucid to be in your debt? Because you clearly know things that we don’t. Filtering it through Lee will be a bigger pain in the ass than just coming clean.”

Said person agrees, “And if he knows you’re as good as you are, you can stop being forced to cut back on Welcome Wagon hours. I know you hate doing that! And maybe you can, I dunno– fuck with his head by showing him a meeting with the endfolk–”

Clever kid, he already knows exactly how to reframe a situation to speak to Daz.

But his dad and brother seem surprised. Theo asks, “Endfolk? Are they fuckin’ special like piglins?”

He scoffs. “Yes and no. Endfolk are– capricious beings whose entire lives revolve around verbal sparring. Haunting dynamics are complicated, and endfolk customs are weird to wrap your head around. Fucking them up means that in a worse case scenario, dozens of hauntings target you and yours.”

Rolling his shoulders at the idea of Lee being subjected to that, he sighs, “Lee isn’t ready. Not until he can pass a test to my satisfaction. That’s the only point in which I’ll finally let him shadow a meeting with them.”

Day’s head tilts a little. “Explain why it’s so much more difficult than meeting with piglins.”

He moves to the side and gives an elaborate bow. Once he straightens, he gives his standard greeting. <”I of the day greet thee of the eternal night. I pray thy haunting has been blessed with prosperity and amusement.”>

Both Day and Theo jolt a little. “Fuckin’ shit, that's archaic.” “No wonder nobody caught on until now, if that’s their native tongue. Even those who speak Ender wouldn't use that dialect…even for words that exist in that one, a lot of them are shifted or different,” Day mutters, brow furrowed in thought.

Daz smiles enigmatically, but keeps his eyes on the neck down. <”With a tongue as old as the ancient cities they walk within, games using words both spoken and not, and little patience for those that fail to adhere to rules…truly, the why is no mystery. Attempting to do so would earn only the wrath of a folk who stand atop the food chain.”>

Both sigh deeply. “That’s some fuckin’ fae shit, right there,” Theo groans. “Sorry, baby bro, but– I might have to side with fuckin’ Daz on this one.”

He keeps his smile affixed. <”Thy admittance is commendable.”>

“Still pissed at you, don't fuckin’ push it,” the warrior growls.

He snorts and sits back down. “Noted.” He looks to Day and asks, “Are those your only conditions?”

The immortal sighs again. “...Just be honest with us. As commendable as your efforts are, I just– I don't like that you've hidden so much of yourself.”

When are you going to remind them about me?

A shudder goes down his spine at Innit’s seething tone.

“...You don't– aren't you worried? About me, about Innit–”

Day looks oddly sad. “You need therapy, Daz. Actual therapy not whatever the fuck you've been doing the last few years. Am I happy you apparently wanted to kill every Dream? Of course not. But I can’t punish you for thought crimes. If anything, you've punished yourself for that worse than I could ever hope to.”

The older man studies him like he's trying to understand him. “You sealed away a fundamental part of yourself to protect Lee. You did– all of this, on top of what we already knew about, to protect Lee. It's…insane, honestly? But also impossible to not recognize.”

That makes no sense to him. “Then why the fuck are you mad at me?”

“You did still lie to me, my kids, and the server at large for three years. And you were moments away from leaving a horrific scar on my eldest and youngest,” Day points out.

He answers, “My reasons have been made clear, and I left extensive documentation. You can’t be hurt if you're dead.”

Lee hisses, “You don't get to make sacrifices like that for me, asshole!”

It does make his heart twist a little to see how hurt the kid is. “I felt like I didn't have a choice.”

Quietly, Aster murmurs, “Because your failsafe realized just how mangled you actually are. And you knew I'd never follow through.”

“You broke into my head, my past, and drove me to a cliff,” Daz sneers. “You betrayed the trust I put in you.”

Aster finally meets his eyes. “You were making sure I'd be able to put an end to things if you went too far. Well…I did, didn't I?”

Fury sings in his blood as he withdraws, twists, and throws his butterfly knife. Aster easily dodges it as Daz screams at him, “You could have killed everyone, you stupid fuckin’ jackass! Your fuckin’ noble bullshit could've led to– not just fuckin’ death, but a fate worse than that! What if I was right and I was cursed?!”

“But you aren't,” Aster answers. “Even if you were, though…? I'd still try to save you.”

He doesn't understand, and it pisses Daz off.

Aster continues, “I'd have used that goddamned wish on you, if I needed to.”

It feels like the floor falls out from under him.

In no way, shape, or form is he deserving of something as impossible as a reality-altering wish.

Even if he might have been, once upon a time…he isn't any more.

Not after he failed so miserably in the worst possible ways.

But he’s good at hiding his true feelings, so he just scoffs, “Right, I’m sure.”

The traitor seems a little sad at that– like he wants Daz to believe he’d do that.

Maybe he would. Maybe it doesn’t actually matter, because he still did something horrible and violating.

Suddenly, Raine groans and slumps forward against the table. “I never thought I’d miss you two bickering, but here we are!”

“Yeahhhh…it was kinda nice not getting new and awful bombshells dropped every few minutes,” Khons agrees.

They’re all quiet for a long moment, and…Daz can’t help but agree.

And then Raine asks, oh-so-innocently, “Do I get whatever the fuck a real claim is to you now?”

He sputters, “I– what?!”

A little smirk is on his friend’s lips as he explains, “Given you literally thought doing that would kill me, I can’t really blame you for your– whatever you’ve been pretending they are? But, well, now we know you’re not cursed. So it’s safe, right? And as your best friend, if anyone deserves a claim from you…”

Daz stares at him, and then Lee says, “I already wanted to give you something. Are you reaaaaaally gonna reject it and break my heart, huh?”

The idea sends a current of icy fear through him. He knows better than anyone at this table the effects of rejecting an admin’s claim.

He…he can’t do that to Lee. Not when there’s not a good reason to do that.

Throat tight, he nods.

It’s still terrifying to accept love, let alone give it out. He’s spend so long convinced that doing so was a death sentence, after all– that fear can’t vanish overnight.

“Yesterday, the Scribe showed up and made me a deal. Evidently they don’t– like that asshole much. They wanted the spotlight to shine on someone else or something– I don’t remember their wording. They told me they wanted to tell me his secrets and shake things up. In exchange…I was promised a wish. A single wish that defies the laws of reality– a wish I can give away, if I so choose.”

He laughs, hearing an edge of hysteria to it. “I thought– fuck, for something that powerful, he might resent me a little. But he’d understand. I thought he’d be more pissed if I refused out of some sense of nobility. I was sure it was just– something whispered in my ear.”

“I’m guessin’ you were wrong,” Aleph says.

He shoves a hand through his hair as he starts pacing again. “I was so fucking wrong. I get– I see what happened to him. Sometimes in third person like a movie, but more often…I’m in his head. I see through his eyes, I hear his thoughts. If I thought for a second it’d be like that, I never would have agreed. I knew I fucked up the second I realized what it would be like.”

It’s Raine who gives the most obvious and correct reaction of going ashen. “He’s not going to take this well.”

“I told him earlier today. The Observers were there, I couldn’t risk them ratting me out first,” Aster admits. “You’re right– he took it badly. He called me a–.”

He gets a brief flash of Daz snarling at his ex-mentor, “I hope you’re fucking happy with yourself. Liar. Monster. Traitor.”

Nothing is worse than a traitor. I’d rather die than betray my loved ones.

I thought you, of all people, understood that about me by now.

He's back again, frazzled that he has a better idea of why those words were flung at him. He collapses into his usual chair. His gaze is trained at the ceiling as he mumbles, “...Fuck. That– that’s about the worst way that could’ve gone, huh?” 

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he has to take a moment to center himself at the realization that he’s cut Daz deeper than he ever fathomed he was capable of being hurt.

Khons asks, “What did he call you? You cut yourself off. I’m…guessing you saw something?”

“Traitor. And, to him, betrayal is an unforgivable sin.”

Exhaustion makes him feel like he’s made of lead. 

You know, he can’t remember the last time he cried. He's not sure if even Dream was able to make him do that.

But this? He's teetering on the edge of bawling. The feeling of guilt and fatigue and resentment and– if he wants to be far more honest than Daz has ever been– fear.

He's always known Daz is fucked up. How could he not, when the bastard occasionally says things that it would take his therapist months to unpack?

Not that he actually does his therapy honestly, of course.

All of this, though? This is so much worse than he ever thought possible.

He feels a hand on his arm, and Lee asks, visibly concerned, “Should we…what do you want us to do?”

Aster’s head tilts to look at the fulcrum his life pivots around. Everything he's done for years, especially dealing with that bastard's bullshit, has been for the sake of protecting this person.

Quietly, he says, “I don't know. But I can't keep some of these secrets. Not when I don't know how to deal with him.”

He straightens and scrubs a hand down his face. “He believes he's cursed. That everyone he loves suffers, and anyone who loves him dies.”

There's another scene he's shown. It seems like Daz is sitting in his sewing room, staring at the sketch of a hoodie in front of him and panicking.

He's a useful ally, and my allies need to be treated well. I don’t cherish him. I don’t claim him. I don’t love him. He’s not mine, he's not, this was just– I was trying to make him more comfortable–

Ally, he's an ally, he's nothing more. If he thinks he loves me, he's wrong. He likes the person I act like, not me.

The curse can't claim him. If he knew me, if he knew my heart, he'd be disgusted. They all would.

I'm a monster who's fooled them for years. It's not their fault they're easy to lie to.

He realizes with numb horror that Daz is trying to justify having made a sketch of a hoodie for Raine as it being useful, instead of something done out of care.

The jewelry is just because it's expected. If I don't have or give anything, it's suspicious.

It's not a claim. That isn't what a claim from me looks like. I didn’t make it. I won’t make this, either.

I can't afford to lose him. Because he's useful, and for no other reason.

I don't care. The curse has no reason to affect him.

“Aster?!”

Lee sounds terrified. It takes him longer than it should to realize it's because he's started crying.

He croaks, “Raine, he– you know him best. What…can we even do? He can’t keep doing this. He has to justify– fuck, any sign of care of affection has to be excused as being useful, otherwise he thinks it'll get that person killed.”

Raine’s hand goes to his earring, brow furrowed with concern. Lee gasps, “But if he thinks he's cursed, wouldn't– wouldn't Raine be in danger–?”

“He makes justifications for why it wouldn't. But he’s…fuck! He almost had a panic attack over a drawing of a hoodie, because he was afraid it would be dangerous.”

Recognition flashes in Raine's eyes. “He shoved sketches, notes, and money at me one Christmas and told me my present was to stop pissing him off by being obviously uncomfortable. I brought them to Make It Sew, and Aver eventually took over the visit. From what I hear, he wound up incorporating bits of it in other designs.”

Raine's fingers run over the embroidery on his hoodie. “I thought he was just being awkward and stubborn. It was– it meant a lot that he bothered to do something like that at all. They’re a lot more comfortable than the old ones.”

Quietly, Aster says, “I think he wanted to make them. But…I'm pretty sure that something like that would be an actual, uh– claim.”

Lee jolts. “Actual? What, so– what he has now, he doesn't think of those as claims?!”

It makes his heart ache, and he hates that he feels so awful for Daz despite what he's done.

“...Not fully. Or maybe he's lying to himself about that, too–”

His charge turns ashen.

The ten year old's wings poof up with distress as he grabs Aster’s arm in a surprisingly strong grip. “He can’t not have claims, Aster! Admins– claims are sacred, they’re–! Without claims, without proof of our bonds, we're nothing!”

Ah. Lee understands this, doesn't he? He understands the underlying admin shit in a way Aster can’t.

He asks, feeling bad he has to rely on and likely upset Lee further, “What would happen if an admin abandoned a claim because they felt unworthy? And then burned the remaining one?”

Lee shoot to his feet, opening his console. His expression is dark and his eyes are flinty with determination.

“Lee? What are you–” “The Council, Daz’s real self– those are secrets I'm willing to keep. But not this. Not when I know someone who's done so much for me and mine is suffering. I'm calling Dad.”

Raine shoots to his feet in alarm. “That’s not a good–” Lee snaps, “Dad, out of everyone in Sanctuary, will understand this. This level of fucked up trauma responses and keeping explosive secrets that slowly kill them to protect others– they're exactly the fuckin’ same!”

They're all quiet. Aster, over the years, has gotten pretty close to Day.

The man has been through hell, but smiles and savors his time with his loved ones.

Day will be horrified to know that someone so important to Sanctuary, another admin at that, has quietly been broken and living in fear this entire time.

Lee is right; Day might not be thrilled he's been deceived, but the reasons for it will soothe that displeasure.

If nothing else, Daz’s core purpose being to protect Lee will skyrocket his estimation in the father's eyes.

He nods. “I think you're right. Day will be able to put pressure on him to get help.” Taking a deep breath, he continues, “And I'll shoulder his resentment and hatred. Even if he never forgives me– he can’t keep living like this.”

“I don't disagree. I've never liked that he’s not actually doing his therapy. But…I'm not sure this is the right move,” Khons sighs.

Aster has to start pacing again. “You don't understand. He's– he's broken, Khons. I don’t like him as a person, but knowing just how fucked up he actually is…? I can't let this go on. Not if I ever want to sleep or look at myself in the mirror again.”

A long, tired sigh comes from Aleph. “Dragging Day into it, though…”

He turns to face them and is aware he sounds faintly hysterical as he tells them, “The two of them are too alike in too many ways– especially the worst one!”

Tears well up again as he confesses, “Daz kept pissing me off on purpose. If he ever went too far, or if his– his fucking curse manifested…? He needed me to be able to kill him without hesitation. I was his fucking trump card against himself. I don’t know what he'll do once he works through his breakdown. I’m terrified he’ll decide he’s become too much of a risk and he needs to die. He's chosen death before and–”

His sight is hijacked to show him another scene.

Daz yanks his arm away from Dream, looking around at the empty field he's been brought to. He warily asks, “What are we here for?”

“When Tubbo gets here, kill him.”

A pain far more agonizing than any flesh wound rips through Daz. Is this what his enchantment felt like– why Day was so distraught after seeing it?

Fuck, Aster’s was miserable, but this–

This, it’s like his soul is being ripped apart. It’s searing pain that Aster would struggle to even speak through, but Daz manages to do so.

“You can’t– you can’t, please, Dream, why–?!”

Dream makes a soothing noise as Daz sobs, pulling him into his arms and stroking his hair.

Horrifyingly, the pain eases ever so slightly– like the enchantment is somewhat appeased by the fact that Dream is right there.

Gods, no wonder Daz fucking hates this bastard. Soul erosion or no, this is…

“You’ll understand eventually,” Dream murmurs, voice gentle– as if he’s not doing something fucking monstrous.

Hope dying and heart shattering, Daz brokenly whispers, “Please.”

“It’ll be over soon, then nobody can hurt you again.”

The hideous hypocrisy of that is evident even to Aster, spectator that he is. If the goal was to protect Daz…

Well. He knows how this ultimately ended– that Daz had chosen to die, before he was rescued.

…Aster wonders if, in a world where the T3 never showed up…Daz got his perfect, brutal, pyrrhic victory.

He watches as Daz is given no time to try and find a way out, and then–

He has to watch as Daz kills his best friend.

The way everything inside of him rots in moments is utterly chilling.

This is the single worst moment of Daz’s life. And Aster hears as whoever he had been before this horrible, brutal event dies, leaving behind a rotting corpse.

He’s yanked away again, this time to a flower field. Daz stares up at the clouds, seeming at peace.

Tubbo is at his side, laughing and making dumb jokes– the sort of jokes that Aster’s Tubbo would have made, too.

And then the wind changes. Voice still cheerful, Tubbo hums, “Yeah…it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Hmm? What is?”

Daz turns, and then reels in horror as blood spills from Tubbo’s mouth and a gaping wound in his chest. “The life you got after you killed me.”

“I didn’t–! I never wanted that, not for a second–!” “But you don’t think about me. I know, deep down, you’re glad that I was the only price you had to pay to get such a cushy life, bossman.”

Tubbo’s face rapidly decays, maggots devouring his flesh in a way that makes Aster want to hurl.

“But the thing is– I’m glad to be free of you. Sucks that I had to die to finally be free of your stupid, cruel, clingy ways, but, I mean– better than whatever hell I’d have been through if I stayed alive!”

Daz hyperventilates, sobbing, “I’d give it up, I’d give it all up, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

Skeletal hands reach out and wrap around Daz’s throat. Daz doesn’t fight it as they squeeze so hard that his own bones creak.

“Then die. As long as you die here, I never have to deal with you in my death. If you’re really sorry, you’ll die. You’re a worthless monster who poisons everything you touch! You’d do them all a favor, you selfish coward!”

Maybe if I die, I can repent properly, Daz thinks, as Tubbo’s hands turn into maggots that eat him alive.

Daz startles awake. He’s panting, soaked in sweat…but he doesn’t scream.

The guy blearily looks at his clock.

2 am, he thinks, eyes squeezing shut in despair. That wasn’t even two hours. At this rate, I’m gonna slip up.

Still he rises from his bed and makes his way downstairs. Daz reflects, How many hours is that this week…? Less than six?

Fuck, I miss being able to sleep. The last time I slept well was before he betrayed me. I hate that I wish I could have someone right there like that. It’s stupid, and selfish…and I don’t deserve it.

Kindness is wasted on me. I’m a broken cup; no matter how much is poured in, it all leaks out.

If I asked, they’d sit there and stroke my hair while I slept. But it’s too dangerous for them…and I deserve the misery, anyway.

When Aster realizes he’s got control of his body again, he scrambles to the bathroom to dry heave.

He hasn’t eaten much since this all started, and anything that had been in his stomach before was already expelled earlier.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, everything about this is miserable! Seeing how Aster’s loathing of Daz was always a distant second to Daz’s own self-hatred only underscores just how thoroughly he fooled them.

And seeing the moment Tubbo was killed– shit, no fucking wonder he calls himself a black hole or void sometimes!

Come hell or high water, he’s going to drag that broken, mangled wreck of a guy into kicking and screaming into his goddamned healing arc.