My Heart Goes Right, My Head Goes Left

by Purrserk

Summary:

“What’s there to enjoy?” Tommy said, his tone holding the aching bitterness of a soldier who’s seen it all, who’s fought on a battlefield where every mistake leads to death. But the people around him would be none the wiser, for Theseus is just a kid.

An insignificant kid, tossed away when someone other than him deemed it fitting. Truly, what’s there to enjoy when Tommy has such a fate waiting for him?

There’s a shifting noise beside him as Technoblade props himself up to lean further against the wall. Tommy glances at him curiously, finding he has his head tilted upward and his eyes closed in thought.

Then, crimson eyes met Tommy’s. And very seriously, he said: “books.” As if it was some secret code the two were sharing,

Tommy stared, taken aback. “books?” He echoed.

__________________

Or: Tommy gets isekai’d into a fantasy world and becomes a character fated to die. But he has no idea that the people meant to kill him actually love him to death.

Chapter 1: Today I am no longer me

One could say, generously, that Tommy was in a bit of a predicament. 

 

This wouldn’t be much of a concern, really, as Tommy has been in plenty of unfortunate predicaments before: stubbing his toe on a hardwood bed frame, being forced to eat peas, nearly losing his life to a scorpion — you get the jist. 

 

Point is, there is nothing Tommy hasn’t survived. He likes to use that fact as a good reminder to calm him down when the stress boils to a point where he would like to faceplant into pavement and pray the impact kills him. 

 

But Tommy… doesn’t know if he can do this one.

 

He’s thought about it, really, really hard, and yeah — this might be the end of the road for him. 

 

What can he do? Is there even anything to be done at all? Is this all Tommy’s fault?

 

He means, who could have fucking predicted reading a stupid, random book would have such a dire consequence? That after falling asleep, he would be transmigrated to a different world? That he would possess a foreign body? 

 

What god did he upset to receive this divine torture?

 

Tommy doesn’t know, he doesn’t know anything. So here he sits, in a room full of clutter and broken vases, courtesy of past-tommy learning the book character he now possesses the body of is named fucking Theseus; a character fated to die. (He should maybe apologize to the maid that had to witness that little breakdown. Tommy didn’t mean to be scary, but he was scared, okay?)

 

Theseus is a character that, despite having such an important lineage, is killed for some pointless show of power by a villainess group. Something like, oh, you don’t believe we’re a threat? bam! there goes your youngest duke! 

 

In other words, not just Theseus is fated to die, but now Tommy is, too. 

 

The tears have dried, and in its place the reality has set in. No, he’s not dreaming. No, he didn’t forget to pinch himself.

 

Yes, this is real. And if Tommy thought he had experienced being clueless before, he was dead wrong. This was a whole new type of clueless. Helplessness, maybe. 

 

And Tommy isn’t even allowed to continue sulking, as a knock erupts from the door. He tenses immediately.

 

nonononono—

 

Is this a family member, coming to check on him? Tommy has no idea how to act in front of someone who would know Theseus personally, terrifyingly enough. Theseus is a supporting character, so even if Tommy had scoured the texts of the book he read, there would still be no detail on his interaction with his family, no hint to help Tommy masquerade as someone he’s not. 

 

How the hell can he convince a relative that he’s their Theseus if he acts like a completely different person? Would they claim some black magic happened? Lock him up or even worse, kill him —?

 

“Young lord, I’m… here to clean.” Tommy’s spiral is cut short.

 

That frail, timid voice was familiar, and it made Tommy grimace with guilt. This was the maid he had asked for information when he first woke up in such an unknown place. The same maid who had to witness his tantrum of denial, or maybe in her view, the mental breakdown of an insane person. 

 

But this was far, far better than someone who might know the owner of his body. Maids didn’t tend to have personal relationships with their employers, right?

 

“Come in.” The response felt dry in his mouth, a different, higher pitched voice answering than the one that echoed the thoughts in his own head. It felt awful, how unfamiliar it was.

 

Sure enough, the same maid entered. Her posture was poised and professional, and Tommy might have marvelled at it if he didn’t see the downcast look in her eyes. Shame ebbed at him.

 

Despite earlier… impressions, Tommy would like everyone to know he is a big man, the biggest, even. And big men know when to take responsibility.

 

“I’m sorry if I scared you earlier, I was… not feeling well.” 

 

The maid’s head snapped up from where she had bent low to the ground, eyes widened with surprise. 

 

“No, it-it was my mistake.” The maid hastily replied. “Please, do not apologize.”

 

What mistake? Tommy cringed internally. This just made him feel worse. Commoners were probably taught to keep their head down in this world, or something. 

 

The maid almost continued in her work before she pauses and shoots him a hesitant look. “If you’re not feeling well… shall I call a doctor?”

 

Tommy flinched. “Ah no- no. I’m feeling better now.” Tommy gave her a small, amicable smile. “Thank you for your consideration.” — people were extra polite in settings like this, right?

 

To his dismay, the maid nearly jumped in surprise, looking at him like he had grown a second head. Shit, okay, guess that wasn’t the right thing to say. 

 

Whatever, while the maid is here, maybe Tommy can try to get more information. Maybe there's a way out of his doomed fate. Maybe, maybe, maybe —-

 

“What’s your name, miss?”

 

The maid blinked, a bit less surprised this time (and maybe that’s a good thing?) “It's Clementine, my lord.” 

 

“Clementine, what year is it?” He admits this was very suspicious. With that being said, it was very necessary information

 

“In the Endria calendar, the year is 207.”

 

Okay, nevermind. Tommy doesn’t how this world passes time so that answer wasn’t exactly useful.

 

“How old am I?” 

 

Clementine frowns in a sort of confused concern. “You are 12, my lord.” 

 

Twelve, huh? No wonder he was so small. This was three years younger than he was used to, assuming years worked the same here. 

 

But this could work in his favor. Not only was he young enough to pass off certain behavioural changes as the inconsistency of youth, but he had time to potentially prevent the upcoming tragedy.

 

Age seventeen was when the character Theseus met his end to the group called the Syndicate. That’s five years of preparation time. 

 

Maybe he had a chance, maybe this was doable.

 

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

 

“Huh? Ah, yes, yep.” Tommy replied.

 

This is doable, Tommy can do this.

 

____________________________________

 

Let’s go over what Tommy knows. 

 

First of all, he’s in a fantasy action story titled: Twisting Knight. 

 

(Cheesy name, Tommy knows. But don’t judge him, He had never actually read a book like this one and he wanted to give it a chance. 

 

…he really shouldn’t have given it that chance.)

 

He possessed the body of a character named Theseus: the heir to one of the four duchies in the kingdom, and the son of Duke Henry Avia. 

 

This might make everything seem easy, since you’d think being from a family that has the second highest rank in the nation would be very profitable, but you’d be wrong.

 

Theseus is still a kid. Completely and utterly untrusted with assets or money, even if he has the status of a noble. So there’s nothing Tommy can access without the approval of the duke, and Tommy would like to avoid interacting with that guy as much as possible.

 

The title of a duke is still incredibly useful, as the only people who can really protest anything he does is the royal family. Tommy still doesn’t wanna push it though, reputation is everything to the people of this world, and he’s not too eager to piss off his new unknown father figure. 

 

As for what Tommy knows about Theseus’s death, it’s not as much information as he’d like.

 

He’s already mentioned that Theseus dies thanks to a secretive group known as the Syndicate. All of the members are anonymous, and the group’s name is only spoken in whispers at social gatherings. All Tommy knows is that they have ties in high society, but the book had hinted about them being far bigger. 

 

He’s sure if he had kept reading, he could have found out more. Maybe all of the Syndicate members would be revealed, or it would completely crumble to the ground to solidify the happy ending for the protagonist.

 

But what Tommy did read, got him far enough to know of the name of just one of the syndicate members. The very same person who killed Theseus with his own hands.

 

It was the cruel and crazy crown prince, Ranboo Bel Endria. A sly and cunning side antagonist who, ironically, is also murdered at the end of the book. A deed of justice performed by the other prince — A.K.A. Dream, the protagonist of the book — even though they were supposedly half-siblings. 

 

He guesses it might have also been because Ranboo had somehow stolen the throne from the main character, despite the fact that he was supposed to be second in line to the throne while Dream was first. 

 

Anyway, since the syndicate loses their pawn placed into royalty, they’re obviously pissed at Dream, which is where the second conflict of the story begins to arise. Right after the first had ended. Tommy doesn’t know how the rest of the syndicate fare against him, because, well, he didn’t read that far. But knowing the fates of other fictitious antagonists, and Ranboo, he doubted it was a good end. 

 

This was about all he knew from the original book. 

 

It wasn’t much, but having this information just might be enough to survive. 

 

He just has to remember to lay low and avoid the crown prince at all costs. And if the main character decided to still have his dispute with the Syndicate, that wasn’t any of Tommy’s business.

 

Although, Tommy is a bit bad at being subtle with his nature.

 

As of right now, it’s been about a month since Tommy has come here, but people have surely noticed that the person they know as Theseus has changed in some way.

 

According to Theseus’ tutors, (yeah, he had those now) he had suddenly ‘made a great improvement’ in his studies. And well, if Tommy is being honest, that’s really just because he’s a few grades ahead. Once he catches up to his current grade level, he isn’t so sure he’ll be praised as a star student to them.

 

That’s okay, Tommy doesn’t need academic validation. More importantly, he wants to keep his life, thank you very much. 

 

Speaking of which, it isn’t like Tommy hasn’t thought through all the possibilities of this survival, you know? Anyone else could have come to the same conclusion as he; that his whole thing might be futile, and that either way, he is always going to die like he was supposed to.

 

But Tommy… figures he’ll try. He’s not in denial, he swears up and down he knows the chances are stacked up against him. Hell, they’re stacked up so high that Tommy feels he might as well buckle and give in, but fuck you, gods. Tommy won’t give you the satisfaction of knowing your divine punishment is working.

 

So, Tommy has concocted a plan, weaved with the thread of his brilliant imagination. Maybe there’s a better alternative, but hell, he needed a plan to look forward to before he drove himself crazy just trying to live as Theseus himself. 

 

The plan? Become a god at swordsmanship, get hired as some insignificant noble’s personal bodyguard, make some easy money and get the hell out of the country. Maybe he could even pick up the guard occupation once again when he’s in a different nation. 

 

There are some complications with him being the heir to the duchy and all, but if Tommy is supposedly going to live he’s assuming avoiding that path is the best option.

 

Besides, he owes nothing to the duke himself, Theseus’ father. When Tommy had first come to this place, he’d been so concerned about meeting a relative of Theseus. But as it turns out, his only family member is his father, who Tommy has not seen…. once.

 

In his one month of being Theseus. Despite them living together. 

 

Not when ‘Theseus’ had started acting weird, nor even when ‘Theseus’ had suddenly improved his performances in studies. There wasn’t a single hint of the guy anywhere.

 

A neglectful guardian… wasn’t that familiar. 

 

The only time they had an ‘interaction’ of some sort was when Tommy asked the butler to send the man a request for a swordsmanship teacher. Theseus was still a kid, so he needed permission for things like that.

 

Tommy ended up getting the duke’s approval in a written letter. One he had been tempted to rip up the second it was handed to him.

 

Okay, if you don’t want to see your son that badly, then Tommy didn’t want to see you either. Prick. 

 

Anyway, it only solidified Tommy’s determination to go through with the plan. It wasn’t the most intricate, but it was something to work towards.

 

Being in a fantasy world and all, Tommy would have loved to pursue the job of a magician, or something similar, but magic was a criminal activity, because of course it was — god forbid Tommy was able to do something cool. 

 

So reluctantly, Tommy decided becoming a noble guard was the best option. 

 

He didn’t want to leech off of Theseus’ father. He would much rather attach himself to a noble who had nothing to do with high society and effectively avoid the strings of the Syndicate by doing so. If he had to, he would even gladly abandon the title of duke that he was to inherit if it meant an easier time getting such a meager job.

 

They say nobles don’t have to work a day in hard labor. Well, not Tommy. Tommy wanted to work for his success. He was already getting annoyed with all the pampering he received just from the mansion’s workers. By now, he would do anything productive as long as it meant he would be doing it himself. 

 

It may sour the reputation of the duchy if the heir is seen doing such a common job, but Tommy doesn’t really give a shit.

 

“Are you sure you want to become a personal bodyguard? I believe there are… more efficient ways to spend your time.” Clementine had said after he mentioned a bit of his plan in passing.

 

Obviously, he couldn’t go into full detail, nor tell her the real reason why he wanted this. But it felt nice to speak to someone about the future for once. It felt nice to speak to anyone in general, really, since he knew even fewer people here than he did in his other world.

 

Tommy doesn’t know if he’d quite call her a friend yet, but there’s potential. Clementine has definitely significantly warmed up to him since they first met. And even just after a month, she’s saying things Tommy doubts are really appropriate to say to any other noble. A sign of trust, Tommy assumes.

 

Guess that’s just the charm of a seemingly innocent child. 

 

“Yeah! It’d be fucking awesome to be good at swordsmanship. Besides, I can protect people!” Tommy claps his hands from where he was sitting on the bed, Clementine gives a wince and a strained smile at his language.

 

(Oh yeah, apparently no one in the mansion gave a shit what kind of vulgar words Tommy used, or at least they never mention it. They seem to pass it off as him being an immature kid yet to learn proper speaking etiquette. He is more than content to take advantage of that view.) 

 

Tommy freezes up all of a sudden, remembering the threats of his new situation. He looks at Clementine with a pleading grin. “Also, please don’t tell the d— er… my father.” 

 

“Of course, young lord.” 

 

“You can just call me Theseus if you want.” 

 

“…Lord Theseus.”

 

“How about just Theseus? No honorifics.” Tommy tried.

 

Clementine gave him a pained look, terribly reminiscent of a dying animal. 

 

He sighed. “Fine, Lord Theseus is fine.” 

 

Later, when Clementine visited him for the second time that day, she brought news that the second son of a count had offered to tutor him in the art of the sword. 

 

She shared stories of the knight, saying he was quite skilled amongst the nobility; that he would be quite fit to teach the young lord. Tommy had been practically buzzing with anticipation as Clementine fed the information to him. 

 

His name was Technoblade from the Craft family. A wealthy, but certainly withdrawn group. According to rumors, it was rare for a member of the county to show up to any sort of social gathering, and they tended to keep to themself. 

 

Which was perfect, actually. It meant that this was someone who didn’t have many ties to the high social world, where the Syndicate dominated. He also didn’t recognize the name Technoblade as a character that appeared in the book — hurray for more supporting characters! 

 

Granted, the book he read was part of a series, and he had only gotten to finish the first book before waking up in Theseus’ body. But still. 

 

He knew what to avoid. He wouldn’t fall into a trap laid for someone else. Because Tommy wasn’t Theseus. Tommy would survive. He had to.

 

____________________________________

 

“You’re tall. Are you some kind of freak of nature?” 

 

Behind him, he could hear Clementine quietly squeal in terror.

 

And in front of him, he faced a stoic man whom he really would have thought was a statue if not for the blinks he made every now and then. He hadn’t even physically responded to Tommy’s verbal provocation. Fucking bitch. 

 

All the man did was stare at him with some unreadable expression, crimson eyes boring deep into his own. And Tommy would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little intimidated. The guy had a sword attached to his waist, a fit body, and the signature tusks of a piglin-hybrid.

 

That last part was actually a bit of a relief, if he was honest. He used to interact a lot with piglins in his home world, and seeing something even the slightest bit familiar helped to calm his beating heart, if ever so slightly. 

 

“What’s your name, mister?” Tommy already knew, but formalities. 

 

Finally, the man gave some sort of movement, a tilt of his head. And then a short bow. It seemed having the higher rank did have an advantage, Tommy supposed. “My name is Technoblade. I take it you are Lord Theseus?” 

 

“Sure am! Nice to meet you!” Tommy beamed, holding up a small hand and giving a wide business grin.

 

The two stared at each other for a bit in an awkward silence before Tommy retracted his hand, his smile turning into something more strained. Tommy was absolutely certain that handshakes as a form of greeting existed in this world, this guy was just being an asshole. 

 

Technoblade then shifted his gaze, and Tommy followed the direction, landing on Clementine who had immediately shrank from the unwanted attention.

 

“Where should we start this? I don’t suppose we’re training here.” Technoblade gestured to the guest bedroom he had been brought into, the one he would be staying at for the duration of Tommy’s swordsmanship class. 

 

Clementine fervently shook her head. “No, please let me show you to the training area.” 

 

Just like that, a knight and a young boy trailed after the small maid while she led them down halls that Tommy still had trouble remembering, even after all the time he’d spent here. 

 

Although, right now it was a little hard to remember or navigate anything in his thoughts in general, as all Tommy could focus on was the feeling of a cold stare burning an icy hole into the back of his head by a certain piglin hybrid. He really should have made Technoblade walk in front of him.

 

At last, that glacier-like gaze finally shifted attention as they arrived at a small clearing just outside of the mansion. Swords, spears, and even daggers lined the waist-high stone fencing surrounding it. Tommy had no idea this place even existed, but damn did it look cool. 

 

He glanced beside him where his new tutor stood, irritation prickling at him from the judgmental look in Technoblade’s eyes. He almost gave the guy a snarky quip, just because he could get away with it, but was abruptly stopped when their eyes suddenly met, and an uncomfortable anxiety dried up the words on his tongue.

 

It was back to that same, eerily unreadable look. 

 

Then it was gone. “Shall we get started?” he says. And immediately, Tommy’s let his guard down.

 

“Fuck yeah!” He shrieks in glee, running up to take one of the wooden training swords leaning against the wall.

 

When he turned back to face his teacher, he was surprised to see a raised brow: the most expression he’d seen at all on the dude’s face, only flitting back to stoic at the sound of Clementine's footsteps retreating backwards to watch the two from a safer distance. 

 

Oh, right. Tommy let out an awkward laugh. Nobles didn’t really do profanity, did they? Whatever! Fuck society! Tommy is a duke! He outranks this Technoblade bitch! 

 

Tommy dramatically raised his sword into the air, a somewhat familiar weight in his hand. Although this time his hand was smaller, his grip was weaker. “Let’s do this!” 

 

“Let’s.” Technoblade agreed, a wood sword of his own held between one hand. “Did you want to go over the basics, or should we go straight to sparring?”

 

Tommy blinks once, twice. Was this guy seriously asking a twelve year old to spar? Well, not his problem. 

 

“Sparring!” He cheered. 

 

In his peripheral vision, Clementine had grown a gauntly pale in contrast to the small curl of Technoblade’s lips. 

 

“Okay, then. If that’s what you want.” Techno straightened his posture, a perfect picture of a patient statue. “Come attack me.” 

 

Tommy gladly took the invitation, readying a stance. He could feel eyes on him once more, but he didn’t dare let it break his concentration. After a few deep breaths, he swiftly swiped his heel against the ground and leapt forward. 

 

He slashed at his teacher — who met him with a parry. Tommy used the time his sword was suspended in the air to locate a new opening and try for another swipe. 

 

The wood whistled as he lunged for the opportunity, and was yet again stopped by a slightly delayed block. Tommy pushed his sword against the other to no avail, this body of his was frustratingly weak. 

 

That lesson was drilled even further into his head as his vision was suddenly upturned, and a harsh surface slammed into his back. And he hardly registered a gasp in the distance while he regained sense of himself.

 

Ah, he was on the ground. 

 

He lost. 

 

Huff, huff, huff. Jesus christ, this new body could not handle the slightest bit of exercise.That will have to be remedied, seriously.

 

Technoblade towered over his student, and Tommy glared at him from the floor, his steel hard stare fading at his teacher’s intense expression. 

 

If Tommy were to put a name to it… it almost seemed like a ravenous sort of interest, one that made his gut churn uncomfortably. But by the time Tommy had propped himself to sit up, his tutor’s face was back to the same old neutral. Did he just imagine it?

 

“Have you sparred before?” Technoblade asked. Tommy flinches, oops.

 

 “Uh… just- a little.. on my own, you know?” Tommy laughs dryly, hoping to drown away any doubts with a wave of his hand. His teacher eyed him with suspicion. 

 

Okay, so here’s Tommy’s little secret. He wasn’t exactly a beginner. 

 

Far from it, actually. He had wielded a sword for years in his old life, and even took part in his fair share of real battles. He liked to pride himself in his skill accompanied by his experience.

 

Without knowing his history, they might find it impressive that young Theseus had held his own for so long when he was an amateur. But Tommy wasn’t an amateur, so getting bested by someone going easy on him in a matter of seconds was a little embarrassing, admittedly. But he was going to table that for later, and blame it on the fact that his body just wasn't yet familiarized with swordsmanship.

 

Tommy had initially had a hunch about the people of this world having a different combat style. Fighting Technoblade, it looked like his hunch turned out to be true. At the very least, he was thankful this training was going to be useful.

 

And at the very most, he was excited to be able to clash swords with someone again — even if it was all wood for now. 

 

Thanks to that giddiness, Tommy could give a happy smile in the face of Technoblade’s studying eyes, forcing the man to eventually relent. 

 

His teached hummed. “Maybe we should go back to sparring later. You have some potential, I suppose. But you clearly need to be educated in the basics” 

 

Tommy was not smiling anymore. Fuck this asshole. Pretentious motherfucker. 

Notes:

Tommy: just call me by my first name
Clementine: i would literally be executed
Tommy: okay… how is that my problem…

hey guys, welcome to chapter 1 of my silly, goofy, and dare i say, wacky fic.

This is like the first fic ive ever made that ive prewritten chapters for and oh my god is writing out a bunch of chapters before posting them so damn useful cause you can go back and add or change shit and its just an overall improvement. Why didn’t i do this before

but yeah, congrats guys!! you have a guaranteed extra chapter, and some more.

I really cannot emphasize the crackfic and unreliable narrator tags enough guys, those are my mfkin plot armor so i can make an excuse for why i cant write lol

Honestly i love fics with this sort of setting but one of the things that stopped me from writing one for so long was that i would always fret over getting ever detail historically correct when the setting is in a whole ass different world and i shouldn’t be worried about it.

Eventually i came to my senses and was just like “fuck it if i get these aristocratic ranks or honorifics wrong then thats between me and god” and writing this story has been easy ever since!

Chapter 2: We should come out here more often

“Agh!” Tommy yelped, before promptly face planting into the dirt below him. 

 

He groaned and gave Technoblade a light-hearted glare. It seemed like it was becoming a trend to look up at this bastard. He didn’t like it. 

 

Tommy spit out dirt and shook his head, sliding his knees and hands under him, then his feet. After briefly bending down to pick up his discarded sword, he was once again standing. Tired and beaten, but standing. 

 

He returned to the stance he had been in before, something in this world that helped a lot with swordsmanship. Perhaps the reason why Tommy struggled so much was because he’d never seen anything like this in his old world. Why the hell did his stance and footwork matter so much in a real battle? 

 

“Turn your heels closer together.” Rumbled a deep voice beside him, his teacher circling Tommy while he examined his technique.

 

 “This feels like a dance class.” Tommy grumbled, moving to follow the instructions nonetheless

 

If Technoblade heard him, he completely ignored the boy. “Good, now step forward and place the tip of your right foot forward — stop. Yes, right there — now place it on the ground to the left of your other foot. Don’t touch that heel to the ground.” 

 

Tommy did so, waiting for the corrections to come. But for once, Technoblade had a satisfied gaze, nodding his approval. 

 

His mentor backed up, presumably to give more space. “Now, try again.” 

 

Tommy inhaled, stepping back to once again attempt the simple move Technoblade had been trying to teach all morning. Sure, it was still morning, but Tommy was getting frustrated that he couldn’t get it. 

 

Quickly, he put his foot forward — only the tip though, of course. — and spun on it. He used the momentum from the spin to slash his sword at the open air in what even he could recognize would be a hard blow in a real fight. His eyes widened in excitement, cause holy shit, he did it, and that was fun as fuck. 

 

And then his face met the ground once again. Tommy groaned.

 

He hadn’t even noticed Technoblade’s approach, let alone the guy raising his leg to kick Tommy’s feet again and send him crashing to the ground. 

 

Tommy hadn’t even the energy to glare at his mentor anymore, just looking at him with a gaze he hoped would relay the message of: why have you forsaken me, oh ye of demonic descent? And also, fucking bastard.

 

It pains him terribly to admit that Technoblade is actually a skilled teacher, but Tommy is getting kind of tired of kissing the ground. 

 

“Too slow.” Technoblade huffed, unimpressed. “but otherwise, we’ve finally made some progress.” 

 

After a week of dealing with the guy, Tommy might be able to say he could be a good translator of the Technoblade language. And to his ears, that sounded like he had done the move perfectly, he just needed to do it faster. 

 

A little more eagerly this time, Tommy climbed to his feet, facing Technoblade with a cocky smile.

 

The two trained until noon, when Tommy had finally gotten the move completely right in Techno’s insanely high standards. But Tommy was happy with the progress he made, and he had a feeling that Technoblade was too.

 

Now, fast forward to the later hours of the day, Tommy is finally alone with just him and his brain. 

 

And past the worrying thoughts thinking about his fate of dying, Tommy’s really just fucking bored. 

 

He doesn’t know how other nobles can stand being pampered all day and just exist while everyone else does all the work. He’d rather do anything else than lay on his bed and just stare at the ceiling. Which was exactly what he was doing right now.

 

All his classes were finished for the day, even his training with Technoblade had been finished. 

 

Recently, Tommy found a way to mitigate the issue of boredom by annoying Technoblade even after they’ve finished their daily lessons, but he was shut out of the guest room today. His teacher explained that even if he was staying at the duke’s mansion, he still had paperwork delivered to him that he needed to get done. 

 

Tommy had offered to help. Techno just rolled his eyes in response. Fucking rude.

 

So here Tommy was, rolling around on a bed that could only provide softness rather than his desperately needed entertainment. 

 

He pondered what he could give himself to do. It was annoying that he couldn’t even clean his own damn room, ‘cause Clementine had already done it while he was away.

 

Maybe he could trash the room, and then clean it? Ugh, but even then… he’s sure Clementine’s psychic maid powers would activate, and she would suddenly appear in the room and start cleaning. 

 

Tommy did a little bit more groaning, rolling around, and brainstorming, until it finally hit him.

 

He practically bolted off the mattress, gathering a few essentials before shaking the maid bell in his bedroom vigorously.

 

Clementine was there not much later, looking a bit frazzled — did she run here? “What did you need, Lord Theseus?”

 

Tommy grinned. “If anyone asks, tell them I’m asleep and to not wake me up even if it’s a life or death situation!” 

 

“Wha— Lord Theseus!” Clementine called with urgence, right as Tommy promptly jumped out the window. 

 

____________________________________

 

It was so different, but so similar.

 

The smell was the same, the air and bustle of people around him familiar, and yet everything was different. There was some sort of subtle shift that Tommy might not have been able to notice if he didn’t know he was in a completely foreign world. 

 

Despite that, he found himself falling into old habits in this place. 

 

He roamed the streets like he owned them, weaving between the crowds and shooting glances at shopkeepers and market owners like he knew them personally. 

 

Of course, he was also blending in. He had a dusty cloak over him that he had bought off of someone else earlier. And the funds to do that? He got that from selling a random item from the mansion at some pawn shop.

 

He was still trying to adapt to how currency worked in this world, so this whole outing was great practice. Just going around and pointing to random stuff, asking how much it was and being told the price was super informative. Even if he got some irritated stares when he walked away without buying anything. 

 

By the time the sun was setting, Tommy was still just walking, soaking in the familiarity of a crowded, dingy street, when he noticed hushed whispering and hurried steps.

 

He was on guard quickly. Has he been discovered? He’d figured out quickly when he first came here that commoners tended to generally avoid nobility — hence the cloak Tommy had on to hide his identity. It wasn’t for lack of respect, but rather the fear they might misstep in front of someone who valued mannerisms more than human life. 

 

But glancing around, some of the dispersed market was not-so-subtly staring at a figure at a vendor a little ways away. Straining his ears, he could hear a bit of yelling coming from that direction where a painfully obvious noble in disguise was. 

 

The person in question also had a robe on, but even from a distance Tommy could easily tell it was probably made of something high quality like silk. Not to mention the gold thread that outlined the rims of it. 

 

Tommy didn’t even notice he had walked closer until the commotion had become actually intelligible.

 

“Damn hybrids! Honestly—! If you don’t have money don’t ask for shit!” An aged food vendor howled.

 

The robed figure shrinked back in response. “Uhm. No, I just wanted to—“ 

 

“Shoo! I won’t deal with no goddamn street rats!” 

 

Tommy had to stop himself from laughing. 

 

If this vendor had paid attention, he may have picked up on how everyone else in the area was keeping their distance, too afraid to intervene in a situation where some crazy dude was harassing someone far more important than them. 

 

Honestly, it wasn’t hard to not mistake a wealthy person for a street rat. Maybe this old guy should get his eyes checked, if he even has the time before he’s put into a grave by whatever pretentious prick he’s offending right now. 

 

Well, in all fairness, Tommy’s not too sure about pretentiousness, considering the robed kid hasn’t really even threatened anything yet. Maybe he’s really just an innocent kid. His stature is pretty similar to Tommy’s, are they the same age?

 

The noble kid fiddled with his hands, and the movement caught Tommy’s eyes. One hand was a pearlescent white, and the other an obsidian black in contrast. Huh.

 

“I'm not a … street rat?” The noble said, echoing that last word as if it was a foreign term. “I really do want to buy—“ 

 

“Don’t give me that shit! How would you have money? No place around here would ever hire a hybrid like you!” The vendor sneered. 

 

Seemed like most of the similarities between his world and this one was all the negative shit. Ugh.

 

When Tommy had first learned that some nobles were hybrids here — Technoblade being a prime example — he thought that meant there was less discrimination than in his home world. But as it turns out, it’s the same no matter where you go. 

 

Tommy really should just walk past. The kid clearly isn’t helpless, he’s a noble and can use his position to get out of anything. He doesn’t need Tommy’s help at all. 

 

But…

 

“What’s going on here?” He finds himself asking, despite all the points he made earlier.

 

Both the vendor and the noble turned to face him. His face met the hybrid’s: the same black and white halves he had seen on his hands, along with red and green eyes that stared back. (He was even taller than Tommy!) Definitely some kind of hybrid, that’s for sure. 

 

Hear him out, okay? Tommy may know how the streets work, but this guy clearly doesn’t. What if he got kidnapped for ransom or something because he’s an innocent kid and they offered him candy?

 

“This kid won’t leave my stall alone.” The old bastard hissed, stating his reason before the noble could. 

 

Tommy’s sight turned back to the kid after a quick glance in the vendor’s direction. “And what do you need from here?” 

 

The hybrid startled, his eyes shrinking back from the eye contact, focusing on the steamed dumplings separating them from the old man. “I was hungry…”

 

Beside them, a tsk of disapproval from the vendor. “But you haven’t got money.” 

 

Robed kid frowned, looking red and ashamed. 

 

Tommy isn’t surprised in the least. Theseus doesn’t get an allowance at all considering how young he is, and this kid probably isn't an exception to that rule. If Tommy were to guess, this was the first time the kid had ever been in the market and either just didn’t know or forgot you had to buy things. 

 

Luckily, the well-crafted lamp he stole from the mansion sold for a damn good price, so Tommy has more than enough funds for this outing. 

 

“How much for three dumplings?” Tommy asked.

 

He’s sure he had enough for this too. 

 

The vendor furrowed a brow, getting a container ready. “17 copper, kid.” 

 

Tommy practically tossed the exact amount on the counter, because fuck tipping this guy. When the old guy finished bagging his food, he greedily snatched it and handed it to the robed kid, grinning all the while. 

 

The hybrid froze after hesitantly grabbing hold of the bag, staring at it with wide, wavering eyes. Uh-oh, Tommy may be awesome but he didn’t mean to move the kid to tears—

 

“You’ll regret giving him pity,” the vendor sneered. “If you feed a street rat they’ll just come back to leech off you more.” Then with a final scoff, the man turned away, back to cook more dumplings.

 

Tommy grinned in victory. Argument closed, and won… kind of. 

 

As he began to walk away, he didn’t even bat an eye at the hurried pitter-patters that followed him, a hybrid suddenly panting beside him.

 

“…Thank you for the food… uh..” 

 

“The name’s Theseus.” Tommy grinned at him, and robed kid returned it with a small smile of his own.

 

“Theseus. That is… familiar.” The hybrid tilted his head in thought

 

“If you’re a noble who cares about the social world and other families, then yeah, it probably is.” 

 

The kid nearly tripped as he walked. “You’re a noble? Oh, oh! You’re Theseus from the Avia duchy!” 

 

Avia, right. That was his family’s name. It was a bit simpler than he expected. 

 

Tommy sighed. “Yeah. And you are?” 

 

There was a brief bit of awkward silence between the two, only the clack of their feet against the ground made a noise. 

 

Then,

 

“Wait, do you really not know who I am!?” The hybrid guffawed, something more out of surprise than amusement.

 

Tommy rolled his eyes at such a bold statement. “Am I ‘sposed to? I never really cared to learn about other aristocrats.” 

 

Strangely, the noble smiled, a soft thing. “No, no.. I guess you don’t have to know.” 

 

To Tommy, that sounded like a segway, so he waited for the guy to say his name.

 

He did not. 

 

Fucking asshole.

 

“HEY!” 

 

Both of them flinched at the sudden voice, abruptly stopping their walk. Tommy turned behind him to see another robed kid sprinting at them, brunette hair peeking through his hood and Holy shit he’s so short —

 

By the time the new kid caught up to them, the brunette was panting heavily, bent over to catch his breath as his voice came out in heavy rasps. Tommy could only see a peek of blue eyes through the fringe of his bangs.

 

“Finally, There… you are…” the new kid huffed, glaring daggers at the kid standing beside Tommy, the hybrid avoided his gaze guiltily. 

 

Then the new kid narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the blonde. “Who are you?”

 

Tommy raised a brow. “The name is Theseus, who the hell are you?” 

 

“Im To— im Tubbo.” The brunette, Tubbo, huffed a bit more. There was no way ‘Tubbo’ was his real name, but that wasn’t Tommy’s problem. 

 

Then a frown painted his face. “Wait— Theseus Avia?”

 

Tommy groaned internally. Is every damn aristocratic kid on the block sneaking out tonight? Did he miss some kind of invite? 

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what? Just call me Tommy.”

 

Tubbo and the other noble shared a look that seemed a bit hesitant, but neither protested. 

 

Tubbo then glanced between the both of them. “Wait, so what were you two doing together?”

 

“Thes— um, Tommy helped me buy dumplings!” The taller noble to his left chimed in helpfully. Tubbo shot Tommy a questioning look in response

 

Tommy smiled, lightly shrugging. “Some food vendor kept calling your friend over here a street rat, said he had no money so I bought him some.” 

 

“What?! Street rat?!” Tubbo practically spat, eyes blazing in fury. He whipped his head away from them and started frantically glancing around for the perpetrator. “ Where is he?! Why don’t I just…” Tubbo’s angry mumbling was cut off by an obsidian black hand being placed on his shoulder.

 

Tubbo froze and turned to meet his friend with a confused look, and his face morphed into one of resigned displeasure when the taller noble shook his head. A silent, but polite cue to knock it off. 

 

Tommy watched the scene with interest. It was obvious which of them held the higher rank. 

 

Then Tubbo sighed and walked towards Tommy. And then he fucking bows.

 

Tommy is seriously getting tired of this tradition. It was funny to him at first, but now it feels strangely gross to have to do such a humiliating gesture if you wanted to greet, apologize, or show appreciation towards someone. Tommy is just thankful he’s not yet been introduced to anyone he needed to bow to yet, because god knows he would be too prideful to hurt his back over some stranger.

 

New life goal: if Tommy ever completely secures a guaranteed happy and long life, he’ll make it his mission to abolish social etiquette rules like that. 

 

At least this time it was just a bend at the waist, sometimes Clementine would just lay on the whole ass floor after she made a mistake and it’d make Tommy feel awful. 

 

“Thank you for taking care of this guy, I appreciate it.” Tubbo said, and it was probably the most sincere thanks Tommy had ever gotten in his.. entire life. Tubbo looked like he really meant it.

 

Tommy glanced a bit bitterly at the hybrid noble. It must be nice to have someone care for you so much. 

 

Tommy grinned at them. “It wasn’t anything much, reall—“ 

 

The taller noble waved him off with one arm, the other arm still cradling the bag of dumplings like it was an infant. “No, no. It was a nice thing to do, thank you.” 

 

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Well damn, guys. If you appreciate it that much you could just pay me back.” 

 

He meant it as a joke, but seeing the way the hybrid noble’s eyes shined, Tommy wasn’t sure the guy took it as one.

 

“Pay you back.. well yes I…” The tall noble started mumbling incoherently, lost in his thoughts.

 

Tubbo took it as a cue to grab hold of his friend and start dragging him back the way they all came. It was immensely entertaining to watch someone so tall be dragged by someone so short. “We’d love to stay but —“ Tubbo glanced momentarily at the hybrid, who was still deep in thought.  “— we really have to get going now.”

 

Tommy nodded and waved them off, until eventually the hybrid gained enough sense back to call out to Tommy. “Tommy! I swear I’ll pay you back, okay?” 

 

“Okay!” Tommy wasn’t going to say no if the noble wanted to be so insistent about it. Also, he likes money. Who doesn’t?

 

Tommy watched them fade into the distance of the town market after listening to the distant argument of Tubbo saying something about how they wouldn’t have had to be in someone’s debt if ‘someone’ just remembered to take their coin pouch — it put one last quirk to his lips as he turned around and stalked back to his own home. 

 

Those two kind of reminded him of a friend — no, an acquaintance — he had. 

 

Had, because they never stayed long. Tommy wasn’t sure why, but if he were to guess, it was probably his own fault. 

 

Whatever, it wasn’t important.

 

Tommy’s got some expertly performed not-dying maneuvers he needs to practice. He also needs to get home before anyone figures out he left. 

 

Notes:

Tommy: all i have to do is avoid people who will kill me in the future and everything will be fine!
Also Tommy: *proceeds to meet every harbinger of doom he can within two chapters*

gamers,

yeah i got nothin to say, hope you enjoyed this chapter!

and.. wow!! i wonder who the hybrid noble is :00 *very obviously glances at Ranboo tag* *points at it* *points at it again*

AH its almost 1 AM brothers i gotta dip. Stay hydrated and if ur reading this past 1AM… wyd? 🤨

but if u see any mistakes… do tell!

Chapter 3: This feeling of wanting to be loved by another is what makes us both suffer

Summary:

CW: abuse, mention of trauma.

The day after his little nightly expedition—which he didn’t get caught doing, thank you very much—there was a knock on his door.

 

Something Tommy realized after becoming familiar with this new lifestyle of his, was that there was always gonna be a knock on his door, everyday. 

 

It was like a law; always Clementine, just there to do her job, and it was always at a certain time of day.

 

This knock didn’t fit either of those rules. It was the afternoon and early evening when Tommy usually saw his maid, but right now the sun was just beginning to set. 

 

And the voice —

 

“Young lord, may I come in?” 

 

— was definitely not Clementine’s.

 

It didn’t sound completely unfamiliar, but Tommy was still struggling to remember…

 

Oh.

 

Tommy perked up and swivelled his head towards the door. That was the butler’s voice, he remembers now. It took him a bit of a delay because he’d only had a single interaction with the guy in the past. 

 

“Come in.” Tommy replied monotonously. The door opened seconds later.

 

In came a scrawny old man with a suit, grays and blacks with small red accents that boosted a professional feel to the guy. Tommy met him with a lazy grin. “Wha—“

 

“The duke has requested to see you.”

 

In an instant, Tommy’s smile falls away. 

 

What?

 

It seemed like the room gets colder, darker, as Tommy digests the words. It echoed repeatedly in his mind like a broken record, each repeat adding a layer of heaviness to his heart.

 

The duke has requested to see you.

 

Why? 

 

An unbearable anxiety bubbled up in his chest, one Tommy immediately tries to shove down.

 

Deep breaths. Let’s think about this rationally.

 

This doesn’t necessarily mean a bad thing. The duke could very well be calling him for something meaningless. All he has to do is act like Theseus to a convincing degree for what is likely a short amount of time.

 

He can do this.

 

Tommy sighed and smiled at the butler once more, eyes burning with determination. “Take me to him.”

____________________________________

 

The two of them, Tommy and the butler, came to a halt at a pair of large, finely decorated doors. Something similar to uncertainty pooled in his gut, and he casts a wary glance at the butler.

 

Just like with him, the butler knocks and only opens the door after a gruff voice from the inside had given its approval. Tommy finds himself greedily gulping in air as the large doors opened.

 

Tommy steps in after the butler and tries to subtly scan the room. It was a dark study. Bookshelves lined the walls to each side with lanterns peering off of them to illuminate the room in a dull golden light. And at the center stood a large desk with papers and a bright lamp.

 

Behind the desk sat a man, nearly a silhouette if not for the dim lighting provided by the lanterns. Through the yellow light Tommy could make out dark colored hair and blue eyes that focused only on the papers below him.

 

Blue eyes, just like Theseus. 

 

“My lord, I have brought him as you requested.”

 

After an achingly long and painful silence of just a pen scrawling on parchment, those blue eyes finally shifted upward, looking at the butler, and then lazily drifting their attention to Tommy. 

 

Fear shot through him. And almost as if he had become possessed, his head tilted downwards to avoid the duke’s gaze. His hands began to tremble, and he had to desperately quiet down the chatter of his own teeth.

 

What? 

 

Why did he feel suddenly afraid? Why had his body moved on its own? 

 

“Yes. You can leave now.” The duke’s stoic voice cut through the air like a knife, soon followed by the butler’s retreating footsteps.

 

Tommy almost took the duke’s words as permission for him to leave as well. In fact, he wanted to leave, but his body just… wasn’t responding. Seriously, what the fuck is this? This has never happened before!

 

“Theseus.” The duke’s low voice had Tommy reeling from his thoughts in an instant, snapping him back to reality. Tommy merely stayed blissfully silent in response, waiting for him to continue.

 

“Theseus.” The duke says again, a growl this time and-

 

Oh, Tommy was supposed to respond.

 

“Yes, father?” He barely gritted out, as though the words didn’t want to leave his mouth.

 

In one way that was true. Tommy gave up trying to find parents or even a family a long time ago, and now he’s being forced to play the part of an obedient son. It was frustrating, humiliating. 

 

And in another way, Tommy found that his body was simply refusing to listen to most of his basic instructions right now.

 

There was a loud, low screeching noise as a chair was pushed outwards, supposedly the duke standing now. Then there was a footstep, then another, then another, rapidly approaching. 

 

“Have I not been generous to you, my son? Have I failed you in some way?” The duke asked, but it was anything but sincere. This was a mocking, dangerous tone, he recognized it because he was far too familiar with how an adult sounded when they wanted to mock something they thought below them. It was something he learnt quickly in his past life. 

 

Tommy tried not to let himself frown nor falter, despite the rising anxiety eating away at his chest. Was this something else he had to respond to?

 

“I—“

 

“You’ve gotten too cocky, Theseus.” He was interrupted by a scoff.

 

The duke turned away momentarily to glance at the windows in thought, and Tommy was barely able to bask in the relief of the absence of such a cold hard stare before it was back again. 

 

“I’ve given you everything you’ve asked for — I’ve even provided that silly little swordsmanship class you asked to take!” 

 

Suddenly, there was a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. He tried not to shudder.

 

“And this is how you repay me?” The duke snarled as he leaned in closer to Tommy’s ear, a cruel sound.

 

He closed his eyes, hoping that the darkness can soothe him if even the least bit, because Tommy’s heart might as well be slamming against his ribs right now. This has gone way worse than he could have ever predicted, this is horrible.

 

It feels like he’s trapped in a room with a predator, someone who can easily overpower him. And he’s not only trapped, he’s chained, frozen to a single spot. 

 

He can move his mouth, he can move his eyes, but the only thing his body does is tremble. And being so powerless to not even be able to evade an attack is a rare type of horrifying that Tommy has hardly ever experienced. 

 

Tommy doesn’t even know what the duke is on about, so how is he supposed to protest or defend himself? Did he find out about how Tommy snuck out?

 

Or… does he know that his son isn’t really his son?

 

More fear, ugly and rotting, coiled around his insides, as the duke circled him.

 

“Did you think just because you were doing better that your tutors wouldn’t report you skipping classes again?”

 

Tommy blinked slowly. That's what this is about?!?

 

Tommy admits he had grown a bit careless when it came to attending the classes he already knew stuff about, but it was nothing he couldn’t make up for the next time he decided to show up. 

 

The duke said ‘again’, so is this because it's a supposedly repeated mistake? Is this something Theseus had done in the past? He still thinks this is a bit much, especially for a twelve year old kid. Not that Tommy really had it that good himself as a kid.

 

The duke sneered. “You are my heir. Act like it, and stop embarrassing our family name.” 

 

Tommy frowns, trying to think of the best way to get out of this. “It was an acc—“ 

 

Then in an instant, the duke had appeared in front of him, swift as a snake, and he bared his fangs. “Do not talk back to me!”

 

Slap!

 

Tommy’s eyeview was suddenly shifted to the left, his whole head, actually. It was so much force that he even stumbled back a bit. It took him a bit to notice the stinging on his cheek, or the duke’s closed fist hovering in the air, ready for another swipe. 

 

Tommy cupped his cheek gingerly and turned back his head to stare at the duke with wide, trembling eyes.

 

Did he just get … hit?

 

Not just hit, but fucking punched?

 

His breath stuttered, his throat tightening.

 

Familiar, a bitter part of him whispered internally.

 

“Well? Are you going to apologize?” 

 

Tommy stared at him incredulously, wanting to bite back. Wanting to do something to protest the injustice he’s been served. But in the end, the fear won out, for better or for worse. 

 

Tommy dipped his head once again, blonde hair covering his eyes that glared daggers into the ground.. “I’m sorry, father.”

 

“I'm sorry, father, what?”

 

His eyes screwed shut. Tommy stamped down the fire of fury and unwillingness that seared a gaping hole into his heart. “I’m sorry, father. Please forgive me.”

 

Thump-thump.

 

Thump-thump.

 

Thump-thump.

 

If Tommy thought the silences the duke created were agonizing before, they were nothing compared to the torture of now. All Tommy could hear was his own heartbeat as the silence dragged on and on. Is he getting angrier?

 

Then, the oh-so fragile atmosphere was broken with a tsk! — the duke backing up and leaning with his palms on the desk.

 

“Go. I’ll decide on a punishment for you later.” He cast a meaningful glance at Tommy. “I’ll let you off easy this time, but next time I won’t be so kind.” 

 

Tommy stiffly nodded, then finally, he could move his body again.

 

Just a few steps and a swing of his arms was all it took for him to open the door and get out. He just wished this body of his had let him do that earlier.

 

When the doors clicked shut behind him, he let out a deep breath he hadn’t even realized was being held. 

 

Then he was dazedly walking, not anywhere in particular. He didn’t really have a reason to walk other than to get away from that room. 

 

Then he was running, the feeling of being trapped and just wanting to run rebounding and just slamming into him. Tears that had been held back for so long finally found their way out, trailing down his cheek to meet where his new bruise lay. 

 

Where can he go?

 

How can he hide?

 

When his vision became too blurry, he stopped. Just in some random, dark corridor, lit by lanterns along the walls. 

 

He leaned against a wall and slid down it, bringing his knees close to his chest as he sat down. 

 

And then he sobbed. 

 

Honest to god sobbed. And how long had it been since he’d done that?

 

It was like a dam had burst, and he was suddenly unable to control the waterworks that spewed from his eyes now that it had started.

 

It was quiet, of course. God knows Tommy isn’t stupid enough to not have learned how to muffle a cry by now. 

 

It felt like both he and Theseus were letting just a little go of what had been building up over the years, just a little. Even if Theseus wasn’t really here, at least, Tommy didn’t think he was. 

 

But perhaps the trauma stayed in Theseus’s body, and that’s why Tommy couldn’t move a muscle. That’s why Tommy was trembling even when there had been nothing to be afraid of yet.

 

Theseus was scared.

 

And now, so is he. He gets it. 

 

When Tommy had first looked in the mirror to see someone other than him staring back, he’d been horrified. But now he realizes that maybe the two of them aren’t so different after all.

 

It’s a bitter thing, Tommy knows. He knows because he’s been in a similar situation as Theseus. Not the same, but similar. A parent who only cared when something their child did made them look bad? Yeah, Tommy can raise a toast to that. A life of loneliness with no one to really turn to? That too. 

 

Although it's so much worse here. 

 

At least back in his home world, Tommy had it figured out. He knew how to protect himself, even if he was alone.

 

But this isn’t loneliness, it’s utter isolation.

 

Theseus is helpless, and Tommy can only walk so many steps in his small shoes before he’s bound to trip. 

 

Tommy has no friends here. Acquaintances, perhaps, but even those only stick with Tommy for a purpose, if at all.

 

Clementine is his maid, for fucks sake. She gets paid to do Tommy’s bidding. And even then, the duke has higher authority than Theseus and can always use Clementine for information, so Tommy can’t even trust her that much. 

 

His tutors are in the same boat, if not worse. At least his maid is nice, but those guys don’t even try to hide their scorn for Theseus. It’s a nightmare.

 

And Technoblade is… honestly, Tommy has no idea. To Tommy, his teacher is just the guy who likes to stare at him like he’s a particularly interesting book. And if he were to guess, Technoblade is probably just here to curry favor from the supposed future duke. 

 

Point is, there’s no one here that would stay with Tommy for Tommy. only people that would stay for other, more beneficial things. It isn’t like he doesn’t understand, but Jesus, is it depressing news for him. 

 

Tommy was familiar with being alone, it’s what he did best. 

 

But it didn’t mean he didn’t want the comfort or relief that came with having people there for you. He wanted desperately to have someone to trust, to lean against when he was backed into a corner. Someone to depend on.

 

But people like that don’t exist, not for him. It was a lesson he learned a long time ago. And a lesson he had to remind himself of time and time again, until the tears stopped. Right now, they weren’t stopping. Which was okay, it was okay because he was alone, and no one would think to seek him out right now. 

 

See? There were perks to being lonely.

 

He could sniffle and breathe in stuttered breaths all he wanted, because nobody could stop him.

 

Until … someone did.

 

In retrospect it was a little silly how he only belatedly noticed the flickering of a new candlelight in the corner of his eyes rather than… you know, fucking hearing the footsteps?! 

 

(They weren’t even on carpet right now, the floors of this corridor were all hardwood. It’d be very hard to miss someone’s footsteps but somehow Tommy’s managed to do it anyway.)

 

Alas, the second he noticed someone had walked up to him, it’s far too late to hide the evidence. He jerks back and gasps, staring up in horror at the suspect.

 

But instead of it being the duke like Tommy had feared, the person that stood there was far too bulky to be Theseus’s twig-built father. Through dim, wavering orange light Tommy made out long pink hair falling over broad shoulders, a white poet's shirt, and tusks.

 

Tommy rubbed at his eyes, trying to see if this was some post-crying hallucination 

 

“Kid, what’re you doing here?” the voice of Technoblade asked, a lantern in his hand that he lowered to get a closer look at Tommy who was actively trying to shrink away from it like it would melt him. 

 

Yeah, definitely not a hallucination. What the fuck was this guy even doing here?

 

Tommy doesn’t give Technoblade the privilege of a response. He wasn’t really in the mood, if you couldn’t tell. So he just glared at the ground next to his teacher’s foot as he furiously rubbed his eyes. Remove the evidence, remove the evidence…

 

(Tommy desperately stamps down the relief at seeing his mentor. Its a stupid feeling, considering he gets far more bruises around Technoblade than he does the duke. Although, those are really just from Tommy leaving himself open like an idiot and letting Technoblade get a few blunt hits in.)

 

Technoblade definitely seemed to notice, though, as he kneeled beside him. “Hey,” Technoblade tried again, this time his voice sounded a bit more serious, and closer. “You’re hurt.” 

 

Tommy flinched and turned his head away, trying to hide the side of his face that likely had a nasty bruise on it now. Fuck, he kinda forgot about it. Sure, it stung like a bitch during the impact, but the pain lessened overtime since he had left the duke’s study.

 

Maybe Tommy can play the bruise off as the aftermath of their training this morning? It was probably easier than explaining the real reason.

 

“That doesn’t look like it was from training,” Technoblade said, like the mind reader he was, “what happened?” 

 

Tommy chewed at his lip in reluctance, still not daring to face his mentor. Even if Tommy did explain, who's to say Technoblade would even understand? His teacher is also an aristocrat, maybe this kind of discipline is something normal for them. Mayble all noble children just had to grit their teeth and accept the punishment. 

 

But Tommy’s not a noble, and he’s not a child. 

 

He’s been through that already: the lessons, the punishments. And he was done with it: finished . He had already left such a thing behind, finding a place where no one could tell him what to do or what to say.

 

And now, he has to do it all over again. 

 

It’s unfair. 

 

“It’s nothing.” Tommy eventually sighed out when he realized Technoblade wouldn’t move away until he replied. 

 

True to Tommy’s assumption, his mentor did move back, leaning away just slightly with a low, considering hum. He was still standing far too close than what Tommy would prefer, but it was a step in the right direction. 

 

And then Technoblade proceeded to take ten steps in the wrong direction and sat down beside Tommy, who was now looking at him with incredulity. The lantern gets set down next to their feet, while Technoblade mirrors Tommy’s own posture and presses his back flat against the wall. Unlike Tommy’s knees which had been curled close, Technoblade had one leg sprawled out lazily, while the other bent to support his arm.

 

The pose screamed contentment, even though noble’s typically weren’t supposed to sit on the floor. Tommy will give him a pass though cause, well- he was also on the floor. 

 

“Must’ve been somethin’ if you’re here crying, instead of sleeping in your room at the opposite side of the mansion.” Technoblade replied, brushing some of his pink hair back in a nonchalant manner. 

 

Tommy stared at him in disbelief. Then, he pulls his legs up closer to his chest and defiantly buries his head into them. 

 

“Go away.” His voice came out muffled due to his position, but it got the message across. 

 

“Hmm… Nah.” 

 

“Leave.” 

 

“You make a compelling argument, but I’m good where I am.” 

 

A small jolt of frustration builds up in Tommy, and he raises his head just enough to send a small glare in Technoblade’s direction. 

 

“Why not?” 

 

Technoblade hummed. “Would be kind of cringe of me to ignore a kid crying in a dark hallway.” 

 

Tommy scoffed, he didn’t need Technoblade’s pity. “I’m not a kid.” 

 

“You are.” came the immediate response. 

 

Tommy’s eye twitched, and his mouth opened to spew a quick insult, but Technoblade beat him to it.

 

“That’s not a bad thing, you have a right to be a kid.” He said, and for once, his eyes looked less piercing or emotionless, his voice so soft and sincere that Tommy felt the words strangely die on his tongue. This was a side he had never seen of Technoblade, a side past the stern or stoic face his mentor wore every day. 

 

“I’m sure there’s a lot of pressure to meet with being the next duke and all, but you’re still a kid, so you might as well enjoy this while you can.” Technoblade continued. Tommy glares at the ground in response.

 

“What’s there to enjoy?” Tommy says, his tone holding the aching bitterness of a soldier who’s seen it all, who’s fought on a battlefield where every mistake leads to death. But the people around him would be none the wiser, for Theseus is just a kid.

 

An insignificant kid, tossed away when someone other than him deemed it fitting.

 

Truly, what’s there to enjoy when Tommy has such a fate waiting for him? 

 

There’s a shifting noise beside him as Technoblade leans further up against the wall. Tommy glances at him curiously, finding he has his head tilted upward and his eyes closed in thought.

 

Then, crimson eyes met Tommy’s. And very seriously, he says: “books.” As if it was some secret code the two were sharing, 

 

Tommy stares, taken aback. “books?” He repeated.

 

Technoblade nodded.

 

A pause.

 

“What the fuck? No, those are boring!” Tommy huffed.

 

Technoblade stared at him with something amused. “Board games, then?” 

 

“No, those suck ass too.”

 

“You enjoy swordsmanship, do you not?”

 

“Well…. I guess…” Tommy didn’t want to admit to Technoblade that those sparring lessons were probably the most fun part of his days. 

 

“I know you certainly enjoy your hobby of tripping onto the ground.” 

 

“Hey!” Tommy whined. 

 

The two then continued their talk of things to enjoy in this world. And it was fun, reassuring. It was a relief to know that Tommy did have some stuff to look forward to in this world, and Tommy never thought he’d be so appreciative for someone else’s company. 

 

Laughter echoed into the night, almost entirely belonging to Tommy. But once, and only once did he get a small chuckle from Technoblade. It was like seeing a unicorn, some sort of mythical animal that you just had to appreciate because it was a damn miracle. 

 

(Tommy ended up telling him that exact same sentence, to which the man rolled his eyes and denied ever laughing.)

 

Eventually, his tears had dried, which Technoblade didn’t fail to point out. He refused to admit that his mentor had helped him feel better though, so he almost started crying again out of spite until Technoblade coaxed him out of it. 

 

He didn’t really know how long they talked, but to Tommy, and maybe even Technoblade, it didn’t matter. It was fun, and while Tommy wasn’t really sure what having a close friend was like, he’s sure it must be something like this. 

 

It was only then that Tommy realized that his teacher was here to genuinely comfort him, and Tommy wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He definitely felt something, some sort of odd squeezing in his chest, but he couldn’t tell if it was something he was uncomfortable with or something he didn’t mind. He guesses it might have been a surprise that someone who seemed almost completely devoid of human emotions was capable of this much light-hearted interaction. 

 

Tommy doesn’t mind though. He doubts he’d even trade this moment for the world. 

 

When the time came that his eyes seemed desperate to glue themselves shut together, Tommy decided he ought to head back to his room and go to sleep. Technoblade helped walk him back, which Tommy was glad for because he had no clue where they even were in the mansion when his mentor had stumbled upon him. 

 

After bidding farewell to Technoblade, he crawled into bed and dove head-first into his pillow, wrapping two arms around his pillow and smiling as their conversations repeated in his head. It was a new experience for him, to talk for hours with someone about something they liked. 

 

Maybe that’s something enjoyable, something to live for. Just… talking with people. 

 

Then Tommy frowned, remembering the rest of the day. 

 

It was enjoyable, but Tommy can’t lose his focus.

 

He has to steel his resolve. He doesn’t need anyone, loneliness isn’t a bad thing. Loneliness is his gasoline, his fuel on the road that swerves to avoid the awful fate awaiting him. 

 

The urge to do everything right is what follows Tommy as he falls asleep. 

 

He won’t make any more mistakes, he’ll attend all his classes and give the duke absolutely no reason to think he’s being anything but an obedient son. No more nightly expeditions, even if he mourns the fact he only got one chance to. And if he must be self-indulgent, whether it be by sneaking out or bothering Technoblade in the middle of the day, he’ll be cautious; he’ll cover up his tracks. 

 

He’ll place every chess piece correctly. Tommy will live. He has to.

Notes:

Technoblade, aka the first person to die in a horror movie: is that a crying child in a dark hallway? I better go check this out

Uhmm… oh god i hope this chapter is… okay.

Is this too much angst for a third chapter? Or not enough? Idk guys i dont know how to write angst!! or comfort either honestly.

I just want to reeeeeeeaaaaaaalllllyyyy point out the fact that Tommy is an Unreliable Narrator. He calls things as he sees it, but tommy also doesnt rlly know what real friends or family are and kinda just assumes things based on his little information. Whether techno and him are friends at this point is up to you, but just know you probably have better judgment than tommy lol.

Also just wanted to point out that the reason why Tommy always refers to Theseus as a kid but doesn’t think of himself as a kid (despite only being two years older than Theseus) is just bc Tommy things. He was and is a kid through and through but he just doesn’t want to admit this. I figured I’d point this out cause i know some isekai stories like to put a whole ass adult in a childs body which can be a liiiitle weird especially if its a romance genre, not that this story is romance, trust me its not.

Anywaaaay now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, how’s everyone doing? Any critique? Mistakes you noticed? Please do tell!

GHHAAAA my google docs keeps resetting every time i close it to go like look something up, even for a milisecond — and yeah im a mobile writer, but im also an ipad kid and idk how people even begin to write on phones. I’m both impressed and horrified at how anyone can do that. seriously though im not joking what kind of demon did you sacrifice your first-born child to for that kind of nimbleness in your fingers and would he consider doing a deal with me.

ALSO the duke is a side character! Im pretty sure something in this chapter hints at that but i just wanted u all to know he’s not like based off a dsmp character although he does have the name of c!tommy’s cow

Chapter 4: Loneliness is our fuel for this abject maze.

Summary:

cw: vomiting

It’s been some months since that night of puffy eyes, a bruised cheek and laughter despite it all, and Tommy thinks he can positively say that things have changed.

 

Firstly, Tommy has finally grown some goddamn muscle on his far-too-tiny body. It’s still less than what he had in his previous life, considering he was much more developed, but it’s a start! A terribly slow one, but a step forward nonetheless. 

 

His daily classes have increased; the punishment the duke previously promised apparently being a new etiquette class because Tommy supposedly “needed to learn manners.” It’s a totally boring, unnecessary class with a tutor that has this awful, scratchy and nasally voice that makes Tommy just want to tear his ears out. 

 

But he can recognize that it's a lot better of a punishment than what he was expecting. He guesses the duke was too busy to come over and use physical discipline, and he also couldn’t take anything of Tommy’s away since he didn’t even have anything to begin with. Leaving the only option to be adding something that increases Tommy’s workload. 

 

So now his routine consist of: waking up at the ass crack of dawn, attending seven separate classes of absolutely useless information, and then finally crawling his way out of the abyss of pure boredom and into the training area for swordsmanship where Technoblade waits for him with his ever stoic face. 

 

“Why do you always look so exhausted before we even start training?” Technoblade had asked this morning from above Tommy, who’d been laying on the floor like he’s about to fall asleep.

 

“Life is pain.” Tommy supplied helpfully. 

 

Technoblade snorted. “It’s only going to get worse if you fall asleep on the gravel.” 

 

Things have changed with Technoblade, too. Not much, as their routine of training hasn’t differed in the slightest. But the two interact differently now.

 

Tommy banters with him are not so one-sided anymore, nowadays, Technoblade will occasionally give his own sarcastic responses, and it makes training all the more fun. Even if sometimes the frustration of not being able to perform a move correctly starts to bubble up and Tommy ends up saying things he doesn’t mean, Technoblade never seems to mind. Always stoic if he’s not scoffing or laughing at something Tommy said.

 

Speaking of which, Tommy has gotten not one, not two, but three laughs out of Technoblade now! And like a greedy pirate with his first taste of gold, he’s set out to get more from the man. 

 

Or maybe it’s just interacting with the guy in general, seeing as Tommy find himself spending hours in Technoblade’s room just talking after all of his responsibilities have been taken care of. Sure, he’s still shooed out of the room when Technoblade needs to do his “confidential paperwork” or whatever, but he’s allowed to stay far longer than he ever was before. And he’s happy to take advantage of this new concession. 

 

They were not friends, obviously. Tommy doesn’t have friends, and he doesn’t need any either. But he definitely does appreciate Technoblade’s company. It’s like a cold treat on a hot day filled with the flames of stress from worrying about how he’s going to live another damn day.

 

…

Which is why, right now, Tommy feels as though his heart has been ripped from his body and stomped on — not because the morning training they’ve just finished was hard, or anything, but because of what Technoblade has just announced to him.

 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE LEAVING?!” Tommy practically screamed, his jaw frozen wide. He stared at Technoblade like he had just said the most treasonous, blasphemous bullshit known to man — and to be fair, that’s pretty much exactly what it was in Tommy’s humble and quite frankly enraged opinion.

 

Technoblade sighed. “My father needs help with his work, so I’ve been called back.” 

 

“What work?!” Tommy whined, just for the sake of it. He knew Technoblade’s family were busy people, but wasn't the opportunity to tutor a future duke very important? Weren’t aristocrats supposed to choose power over their own family? Why can’t Technoblade fit the stereotypes, dammit! 

 

He knew that having Technoblade around would always be temporary, as Tommy would eventually master the ways of this world’s swordsmanship, but he didn’t think it would be this temporary! He’s only known his mentor for half a year and if there’s anything that Technoblade taught him, it’d be that he still isn’t even a fifth as good as his mentor despite all the experiences of his past life! 

 

If Technoblade leaves, how is he ever supposed to fulfill that milestone?

 

“If you leave, what about my swordsmanship classes?” Tommy leaned forward, his palms pressed flat against the dirt ground they were both sitting on. It was a far cry from that night all those months ago, but the scene of sitting side by side together still reminded him of it. 

 

Technoblade glanced momentarily at the training area in front of them, his face that signature blank that it almost always was. “I have some recommendations for a replacement—“

 

“But I don’t want a replacement! I want you!” Tommy’s voice cracks strangely at his exclamation, and it’s only then that he realizes he’s crying —which is definitely because he’s in the body of a child and not because he’s emotional or anything. Tommy would never cry under normal circumstances, obviously!

 

Technoblade seems to have noticed the tears, too, as he shifts uncomfortably in his spot and frowns. “Theseus…” 

 

Since it’s come to this, Tommy figures he has no choice but to use his secret weapon.

 

He clasps his hands together and looks up at Technoblade with watery eyes, furrowed brows, and the most pouty sort of expression he can muster. Behold! The power of a crying twelve year old that makes even Clementine relent! 

 

But it seems as though Technoblade is some heartless, cruel bastard, and all he does is turn his head away with just a slight scrunch to his eyes. 

 

“Theseus, puppy-dog eyes won’t work on me.”

 

Dammit. 

 

“But you can’t just leave!” Tommy protested.

 

“Yes I can.”

 

“No!” 

 

“Yes.”

 

“No!”

 

“Theseus,” Technoblade started, exasperated. “I cannot stay here, but—“

 

He looked back at Tommy, holding his gaze with steadiness. “This doesn’t have to be the last time you see me. It may be the last time for a while, but I’m sure we’ll see eachother again.” 

 

And there was that… look again, that one that Technoblade sometimes wore when looking at him, seemingly unprompted. It was a look of something so intense , an unbridled emotion that Tommy just couldn’t seem to place, and he might have shied away from it if he weren’t so used to it by now.

 

Tommy easily shook those thoughts from his head. “But I thought the Craft family never goes to social gatherings? How am I supposed to see you?”

 

Technoblade gave him a rare smile. “I know the duke won’t allow you to visit anyone at your age now, but when you get older, I’m certain my family would love to have you over to visit.” 

 

Unfortunately, Tommy couldn’t exactly blurt out his secret plan of, im fleeing the country when i get older, though! So he just bit his tongue and looked at Technoblade with unending sadness.

 

Defeated, Tommy instead sighed. “When are you leaving?” 

 

“Wow, you’re already at the stage of acceptance?” Technoblade joked.

 

“Fuck you.” 

 

Crimson eyes creased ever so slightly, before returning to neutrality. “To answer your question, I leave in a week.”

 

“A week!” Tommy cried, clutching onto Technoblade’s shirt. “Give me more time! I need to mentally prepare!”

 

“No can do.”

 

“Technoblaaaade!” Tommy whined, kicking his feet into the dirt pointlessly.

 

A sigh. “I’ll never understand how you can act so mature sometimes, yet like this all the other times.”

 

In response, Tommy’s eyes begin to tremble. 

 

Technoblade blinked, until the reality of what he said to a literal sort-of-twelve year old finally sank in. “Ah, no— I didn’t mean it like… oh, Theseus…” his mentor trails off as his voice soon becomes overpowered by Tommy’s own crying. 

 

____________________________________

 

The week ended up passing by far, far too quickly for Tommy’s standards.

 

Even though he clung to his mentor nearly the entire time — which Technoblade did not forget to mention to tease the boy — he still felt as though the time went by too quickly. 

 

Technoblade did his best to placate him: teaching him more combative moves, playing board games with Tommy into the late hours of the night, and even letting Tommy eat all his lunches in his room; but it merely made Technoblade’s inevitable departure all the more somber. 

 

Tommy did as much gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss and motherfucking guilt-tripping as he could, but none of it could stop the unwavering determination of Technoblade who was set to leave his apprentice. 

 

Tommy wanted to sulk the whole week, believe him. He wanted to annoy the shit out of Technoblade for ever breaking his heart, but he’d ultimately decided against it. Be the bigger man, or whatever.

 

Because this really is the last time he’s going to see Technoblade. Even if Tommy sticks around to become a duke, he’d die before ever getting the chance to reunite with his mentor. Staying in this place while waiting for a chance to see someone again is a hopeless endeavor. That’s why he wants to soak up all of Technoblade’s attention while he can, before the little light held in this dark and gloomy mansion fades away. 

 

Not too long before Technoblade’s departure, the butler decides to rub salt in his wounds by informing Tommy that a new swordsmanship tutor has applied to teach him. His name being Fruitberries or something like that, though Tommy hardly had the mental capacity to listen.

 

And when the dreaded day comes, Tommy knows it not by the date but by the telling environment. Servants scuttling around to prepare a carriage, skies weeping with harsh rain — it’s a near-perfect mirror image of how Tommy felt now: clunky and disorganized emotions with a hint of a solemn sort of apathy to surmise that, ah yes, he’s being abandoned again. 

 

He smiles nonetheless. Even when Technoblade takes a single step up the carriage and looks back to wave, his pink hair damp with rainwater, Tommy doesn’t falter. He waves back with a smile. Even when Technoblade promises, once more, that they’ll see eachother again, Tommy nods with a curl to his lips despite knowing it all to be false. 

 

Even when he has the urge to run over and hug his teacher for the first and last time, Tommy stays put. Because that’s what family or friends do, and Tommy doesn’t need either. Technoblade must feel similar as well, considering most people 

 

(In reality, Tommy just didn’t think he’d ever let go if he had let himself hug the guy)

 

He watches as the carriage rides off with a blank face, only stopping far after he can’t see it anymore and a maid is ushering him inside; not wanting to be at fault for the duke’s ‘beloved’ son catching a cold. 

 

As expected, when Tommy is back inside, back in his room, the mansion feels stifling. Everything feels unfamiliar, like when you stay at an inn and even though everything looks nice and neat, it could never compare to a real home. Tommy never really had a home to begin with, even in his past life he was a wanderer, but he had felt that this prison of a mansion he had been in was starting to feel something like it. 

 

But with Technoblade gone, it's like a key component to a comfortable environment is gone. The guy didn’t even have that much of a presence in this building, always sticking to himself, but Tommy had been comforted by the idea that he was close by.

 

But that’s also fucking stupid! Tommy doesn’t need anybody, and certainly not Technobitch. 

 

Without really thinking about it, he lets out a sigh.

 

Clementine immediately zones in on him. “Are you feeling ill, Lord Theseus?” She asks, a quiver of fear betraying her professional tone. 

 

“No?” Tommy says it like a question, because how does a sigh indicate some sort of ailment at all? He rolls his eyes. “By the way, is what you're doing really necessary?”

 

Clementine, who was busy drying his hair with a towel after insisting to, paused. “Yes. It would not be good to catch a cold. You really shouldn’t have stayed out there that long.” She softly admonishes, then continues to weave a towel around his tousled hair. 

 

Tommy only hums in response. He’d normally have some sort of humorous quip readied on his tongue, but today he finds his mouth is as dry as the stale air in his room. 

 

You know what? Tommy isn’t in the mood for any of this. 

 

“Leave.” Is all he says. And just like that, Clementine’s hands recede from his hair. Tommy has his back turned, but he hears a shuffle of fabric and assumes it's the maid giving a curtsy, before the tap-tap of footsteps signifies her walking away.

 

Only after he hears a click of the door does he turn back to confirm she’s gone. Then tears, salty and wet, spring from his eyes. He can’t help but give a longing look at the door. 

 

Why did she leave? Why didn’t she stay?

 

He knows he asked her to leave, obviously. And it’s a stupid, petty thing to be feeling this way, and Clementine has no choice but to listen to the orders of the nobility— but is it so much to ask that someone doesn’t leave him at the drop of a hat? That someone cared enough to stay with him no matter what he or anyone says? It’s a selfish, unfulfillable want, Tommy knows. But he can’t help but yearn that someone would stay even after seeing the worst of him.

 

No… Tommy doesn’t want that. He doesn’t need that, he doesn’t. 

 

Tommy only needs himself. 

 

He stands, wiping at his eyes and setting his sights on the gap between his bedframe and the floor. He bends down and pulls out a box. It’s crafted with plain, unsanded and painted wood with a silver clasp, seemingly unimportant in appearance. Contrary to looks, though, this is Tommy’s little piggy bank. He picked out the blandest one so that if someone were to come across it, they wouldn’t think too much of it. Not that it's much of a concern, considering Clementine isn’t really the snoopy type.

 

He opens the box. Inside is a good sum of currency earned from selling some trinkets he stole from the mansion, but the money is not nearly enough as Tommy would like. He needs enough to set up a decent life in a foreign country, and while what he has is enough to last a large family a month of living expenses, Tommy needs to be completely sure. 

 

Of course, there’s the whole becoming a personal knight and making a fuck-ton of money scheme he has planned for the future. But he might as well continue to have some sort of side-gig, which means…

 

He has to keep sneaking out and secretly selling off stolen assets. 

 

He’d only done it once, a long while ago now. But he had gotten spooked by the duke, and for a while he was walking on glass around the guy. But things have settled down now. The chance to speed up his runaway plan was a risk he was willing to take.

 

Besides, if he got caught, there wasn’t much to lose. The duke could make whatever physical or verbal threats he wanted, in the end Theseus was still his only offspring, the only traditional candidate who could take over the duchy while that old man wastes away in a luxurious retirement. 

 

Well surprise, surprise! Tommy won’t allow him to have such an easy out. He’s going to ensure that motherfucker works until his dying days. The only way the duke can avoid his fate is if he sucks it up and adopts a new heir, which is literally impossible because that guy is as traditional as they get. He wouldn’t even dare to think of something that would ‘pollute the bloodline.’

 

But all that will come later. As for present Tommy, he needs to sort out budgeting. 

 

And right now, as much as he wants to, the money he currently possesses unfortunately wasn’t to be saved for the future, but rather to be used on something very important. A necessary investment, if you will. 

 

Something Tommy’s gonna need for his goal of survival. 

 

____________________________________

 

In the original story of Twisting Knight, the protagonist, Prince Dream, stumbles upon an incredibly useful item by mere chance; a sort of luck terribly befitting of the main character in a novel. It was a necklace, bejeweled with a shiny amethyst gem. In appearance, it seemed like a completely ordinary trinket of jewelry, but the main character picks it up nonetheless.

 

Why? Well, if Tommy recalls correctly, Dream was described to have felt a strange “pull” to it, leading to his decision to buy it. That was it, that was the only reason. If that wasn’t shitty storytelling, Tommy didn’t know what was. The author really couldn’t have given a better excuse for giving the protagonist such a cheat-item? 

 

At the time, Dream had not known it, but the necklace held an extremely powerful enchantment: Undying. 

 

Things imbued with Undying seemed to work similar to Totems of Undying in Tommy’s old world. If the item in question was on your person when you died, it would revive you and heal whatever injury or ailment had caused your fatality. And then it would break, its lifespan only lasting a single use. 

 

But even just one more chance if things were to go wrong is more than appealing. God does Tommy need that. 

 

After finally scrounging up enough money, he’s already set off in the early hours of the morning to acquire the necklace before the story can progress enough for Dream to get it. 

 

Sorry, Dream. Tommy smiles bitterly to himself. But you have plot armor, and I don’t.

 

He’s sure the protagonist will be fine, anyway. Unlike Tommy, that guy’s not fated to die anytime soon. Atleast, not as far as Tommy’s aware. He never read the full story, but Dream had never actually needed to use the necklace from where he stopped reading. Dream had only found out about its use because—you guessed it— sheer luck after somehow finding a book on ancient enchantments and realizing the gemstone has the same letters carved into it. 

 

But Tommy doesn’t need luck or the author’s favor. His knowledge of this world is enough. His memories have already served him the use as well as the location of the necklace; a shady jewelry store that sits just between the border of the higher classes’ territory and the lower classes’. 

 

It was less far away than that market in the lower district he had been to all those nights ago, but still a pain in the ass to travel to. Tommy will never get used to the discomfort of this world’s carriage rides—which is, apparently, the best mode of transportation you can get in terms of luxury. Not that his world was much better, but at least they were fast. 

 

It feels like forever when Tommy is finally deposited out of a coach and is hurling out his insides on the sidewalk. This new body of his apparently had terrible motion sickness, something he unfortunately had found out the hard way. Although throwing up sure does beat walking all the way here, and his suffering is made all the more worth it when he finally tilts his head up and sees the building in front of him.

 

Bold, large lettering sat atop the entrance: BEAU’S BOUTIQUE AND JEWELRY. 

 

Tommy smiles in victory. It was the same one in the book . 

Notes:

Tommy: lets make a deal. i’ll give u this here monopoly one dollar bill, and you just have to stay.
Techno, already in the carriage thats currently riding away: what

I present to you: my sadistic plan of giving u techno screentime and then ripping him away. Please rate your suffering.

I also present to u: tommy being an edgy bastard and pretending having no friends doesn’t bother him (what a loser)

Thank you guys for being so nice last chapter, i’ll try to keep the self-deprecation to a minimum, ive done it three times in a row now and godammit ive used up all my self-loathing coupons so i guess you guys are free from it … for now…..

Ive ended up giving Clementine way more screentime than i ever intended to sooo i just feel like pointing out that clem is not an important character at all. I know a lot of people hate when ocs have important roles so just so everyones aware, any character that isnt listed in the tags is prrooooobably a side character. Not that i really consider clementine an oc of mine since she’s inspired by a lot of clems in other fics and not a character i really fully fleshed out in my mind like with most ocs i have.

See any mistakes? Critiques? Let me know!

also im sorry if i dont reply to your comments, i know this is a cliche thing to say but i really do appreciate all of them and seeing how interested u guys are really helps with motivation but also theres only so many ways you can say “thank you” without it looking like ur just copy pasting stuff at some point. But thank you all for all the support!!

edit: woops i was supposed to post this tomorrow …. fuck

Notes:

kind of really a self-indulgent fic (i say that but here i am posting it and feasting on people’s interest) … this whole story is using dsmp characters and not the ccs! Just wanted to clear that up cause of .. recent events

Kinda wanted to use this fic — like with all my other fics — as an outlet of sorts to process things, not just stuff thats happened in the community but things that have happened to be personally as well.

Anyway, i hope you enjoy this silly little story of mine :) I’m not too good a writer but I certainly have fun as much as possible.