Living the Dream

Chapter 8: Injuries

TW: blood, self harm, slight manipulation, horribly explained injuries

(TELL ME IF I MISSED ANY! SORRY IF I DID!)

Definitely not me forgetting to post, then posting at 5:30 am-

Quackity looked at Ranboo and stared directly into his eyes. Ranboo started shaking and making a weird growling noise.

“Quackity! Don’t look into his eyes, it's considered hostile!” Tubbo shouted, holding onto Ranboo’s wrist.

“Oh no! What’s he gonna do, kill me? He can’t move!” Quackity laughed and kept staring.

“I hope you have water with you,” Tubbo sighed and let go.

Ranboo dissolved into a cloud of purple particles and reappeared behind Quackity. Ranboo bit at Quackity’s wing and tore off a few feathers. Quackity sprinted to the fountain and jumped in. Ranboo teleported to the fountain’s edge but refused to go any further. Tubbo took this chance to grab Ranboo’s hand.

“Boo. Remember,” he said calmly, looking up at Ranboo. “Remember.”

By the time Ranboo was calm, Quackity was a cold wet mess, and Tommy had left to get some Coca Cola from the mansion.

“What the hell was that?” Quackity shouted, wringing out his beanie.

“I tried to warn you.”

“I’m sorry,” Ranboo said in Enderwalk as he held out his hand. Quackity reached out and grabbed Ranboo’s hand. Ranboo let out a quiet hiss as Quackity’s soaked hand touched his.

Quackity yanked as hard as he could and Ranboo fell into the water. Tubbo immediately jumped into the pool and grabbed Ranboo. Ranboo was now covered in green blood, burn marks on his body. Tubbo held him above the water as he made his way to the edge where he sat Ranboo down.

“Ha, doesn’t feel too good now-“ Quackity stopped laughing as he realized that Ranboo was severely injured.

“Nobody must’ve told you,” Tubbo spat, worry and anger flowing through his veins. “Water is lethal to endermen!”

Quackity felt as though a knife had been driven into his chest. Sapnap and George walked over to Ranboo. Sapnap pulled out a knife and cut a small slit in his hand. A hot, glowing, orange liquid seeped out of the cut and Sapnap held it in his hand near Ranboo. Tubbo heaved himself out of the fountain and picked Ranboo up again, walking towards the door, Sapnap followed nearby with his hand full of the hot, lava-like blood and George carried Tubbo’s thick wool jacket, which was heavier than it seemed.

Quackity sat down with his back turned away from the fountain. He moved his wings so that he could see them. He then noticed Sapnap’s blade sitting a few feet away from where he was. He picked it up, looking over its shiny finish before lining it up with his wing. He lifted the blade, squeezed his eyes shut, and swung the blade. He heard it hit flesh, but not his own. He opened his eyes to see Karl standing there, the blade sitting halfway through his forearm.

“Karl?” Quackity let go of the hilt and covered his mouth as a silent scream erupted from his mouth.

Karl’s hand quivered but he didn’t show any other signs of pain. “You have done nothing wrong, Quackity.”

“What the hell do you mean? I almost killed Tubbo’s friend!”

“Not kill. It would have taken longer than that to kill him, you merely burned him.”

Quackity hesitated. “No! My Karl wouldn’t say that!”

“You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” The fake Karl took the form of a black cloud. “Wake. Up.”

Quackity gasped and awoke from the odd slumber. His wing felt cold. He looked down, expecting to see his wing, but there was just a bloody stub, his wing on the ground. He screamed in pain, sadness, and guilt. This caused Tommy to come walking out of the mansion, muttering and mumbling to himself. He looked around and saw Quackity, back covered in blood, missing a wing, and a crying disheveled ball of emotion.

“Phil!” Tommy shouted, pressing a button in the door repeatedly.

A tall man with the wings of a crow glided down from an open window. “What Toms? This better be important-“ He saw what Tommy was afraid of. “Oh shit. Tommy, run up to my nest and find the potion. You know which one.”

Tommy sprinted away, his small wings flapping with anxiety. The man crouched next to Quackity, and put his hand on his back, far enough from the wings to not cause any pain.

“Mate, I’m going to need you to calm down, your making it worse,” He said, which was indeed true. The flesh of the wing was slowly peeling away from the bone. Well, rather what remained of it. “Mind telling me what happened?” He said, pulling Quackity into a hug, making sure to avoid his wings.

“I-I did it,” Quackity stuttered, trying to pry the feeling of dread off of his shoulders. “I almost killed Tubbo’s friend and I had a dream and…” Quackity couldn’t finish the sentence, he was shaking too much. Phil and Quackity heard the anxious flapping of wings and the soft crunch of footsteps approaching.

“Here Phil,” Tommy handed Phil a glowing magenta potion, which smelled of honey and roses. Phil gave it to Quackity, who could barely talk. He downed the potion and shuddered. Looking up to see Phil, Tommy, and another creature that he didn’t know.

A golden thread of light wound its way around the injured wing, and took the form of a smaller, but strong wing. The light seemed to dissolve into the wing itself. Phil inspected it and sighed, looking down apologetically.

“This has officially diminished your ability to fly,” he said, gently prodding the new wing, a thin layer of feathers coating it.

“Permanently?” Quackity asked, the newfound confidence disappearing with the blink of an eye and being replaced by regret.

“Not permanently, but it’ll be quite a long time till you're ready to fly again. It needs to heal and be trained to fly again, and since your other wing is much bigger, you won't be able to fly in a straight line.”

“Fuck!” Quackity shouted. But he quietly apologized after realizing that he hurt Phil’s ears.

“We have to hide this,” Phil said, looking at the wing and helping Quackity stand up. “Michael can smell blood. So can Ranboo,” He picked up snow and let it fall from his hands. “Foolish. Do you still have that shovel?”

Quackity had forgotten that there was another person there. They spoke quietly for their size. “Yes, why wouldn’t I?”

Foolish’s pure emerald eyes were glowing, and his body was coated in gold, which was engraved with hieroglyphics. His height was easily over 15 feet. He pulled the shovel out of his inventory and gave it to Phil. Phil dug a hole and kicked the wing and bloody snow into it. He covered it with dirt and more clean snow.

Foolish knelt over Phil and whispered something into his ear. Phil looked at a certain window in the mansion. His face fell. Standing in the window was a very short creature. Phil nodded and held his arm out. The creature hopped out of the window and slid down the wall.

“Sneeg,” Tommy said loudly. “Stop spying. You know that you aren’t invisible.”

“I am invisible to most!” The creature named Sneeg yelled from Phil’s shoulder.

“Sneeg, my ear, mate,” Phil said, shrugging so that Sneeg lost his balance and had to cling to his robe.

Quackity gave Tommy a confused look, but Tommy ignored Quackity completely, busy arguing with Foolish and Sneeg.

“Quackity!” Tubbo shouted from the doorway. “C’mere, Ranboo wants to talk to you!”