Tommy-Centric Stories and Writitings

The Life of Gods || SBI Gods AU

Warnings:
Mentions of Death (Ghostbur)

Description:
Philza was known as the Angel of Death when walking the land, but he had a title none dared to utter.

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He grabbed delicately onto the spinning lights before him and grasped the cool tendril of stardust between his fingers. It was dewy and comforting against his skin as he spun the shape into something more tangible. "Come here." He cooed softly to the newly formed light.

Phil held the crystal between his fingers, gently caressing the newly formed creature in his palms. A grin stretched across his lips as he lowered the unmoving body into the inky black pool. It sunk below the tranquil waters and disappeared just like those before it.

Giving life to an otherwise incapable material, spinning it to his craft and creating the surface image of each creature, it was something only people knew he had the gift of. He was known only as the Angel of Death to those upon land, who walked the earth as his children unknowingly. They looked to his wings as a source of fear rather than for comfort when his physical presence was known.

So he, on one of his few trips to live on the mound of dirt, would claim a few of his creatures as his family. He and Mother Kristen, his wife and love that gave beauty to the planet, would take care of children chosen for neglect and mistreatment.

This eon, he chose three little boys he created from his own hands. Three that were tethered to his soul just as much as he was theirs. Gods in their own, but only relishing the titles through actions.

The self-proclaimed God of Blood, was actually a god of carnage and fierce protection. He was reborn as a piglin and branded the symbol of his God-hood on his back, crimson cape just trailing over the dusty earth under-hoof. This rendition of the God of Protection had given himself the name Technoblade. He wore the name over his heart and used it to instill fear upon those he belittled.

Then there was the God of Song and Disaster, a man that held lyrics on his tongue and a warmth to his gaze but could feed destruction through his every foot-step. This man was born as such, with mop of tousled brown hair and guitar slung over his shoulder. He was just as smooth-talking as ever before, but this time held a glint to his eyes that was almost as familiar. He took the name Wilbur Soot as a stage title and paraded the name around with glee.

The last, but not least, God was that of Loyalty and Perseverance. He was capable of finding easy friendships and relying on that connection just as fast. It was simple to place one's trust on others but not as much so to receive it back. This man- boy, more like -had been given the name Tommy at birth.

Life and Death came easy to them all, Philza more so than the rest. Rebirth did not affect the God of such things nearly as much as his dear friends. He could be reborn and relive each era with a recognition of the last, living each second with the knowledge of universes in his mind.

The current life was one worse for wear, for every single one of his children. No one won, not completely, in this world.

His son, his poor poet, was already ripped from the hands of life and danced within the planes of life and death. Phil watched the God rage in the darkened skies as his human form walked the earth in a ghostly form. He treated the boy as he would any life before and after this, with a kindness few deserve.

The current eldest, Techno, was keeping to himself in the freezing Arctic (familiar to Phil as the live previous was within such climates). He drove himself into the ground with his daily work, eventually collapsing into sleep daily. It was a painful, near-torturous cycle that Phil had witnessed time and time again.

Tommy was dancing with death itself (a funny pun, in Phil's opinion) and was teetering on the thread of life he had left. Phil acknowledged the youngest was locked away inside the prison that held the most dangerous being on this server, but knew he couldn't play with the strings of fate. He allowed the boy to slip away into Death, welcoming him once more into the canvas of black among his brothers.

However, just as every world before this has proven capable, the most obscene always managed to follow the boy. Phil could feel the stardust mold back into shape and sink deeper into the pond of life, something that had been done few times before. Tommy, the ever stubborn, had breathed life into the body of his own corpse. This time, he brought along the knowledge of a God.

Taking a human from his mind was one thing, but to take a God from it's chosen body and place it back once Death wrapped it's slimy hands around it? Hell will rain upon the server, and Phil was ready to sit back and watch the show.