DreamSMP and Hermitcraft Oneshots [By Request]

Sometimes It's Kinder to Forget

WASSUP Y'ALL

There's still no cover here because I have no idea what theme to assign to it so uh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I am back with another oneshot >:)

Again, it's beta-read by the one and only jello12451.

The prompt for this came from a friend on discord, Eclipse. Thank you, and I hope I did your idea justice <3

Um yeah also this is a 3k word oneshot XD

Enjoy.

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Nothingness.

And then everything.

The world, in all its brilliant splendor engulfed his senses, bringing his consciousness back from the verge of letting go into the wonders and pains of feeling once again.

It felt familiar, but at the same time not.

He knew his name was Tommy. Tommy Innit, the greatest man ever.

Duh.

But there was a suspicious amount of blanks in his memories.

Bits that lay isolated, certain faces or snippets of conversation that he could recall, bright and beautiful despite the bitterness that lay behind them. People he knew from another life, friends who had left him, or been left. Enemies he had risen over or been beat down by.

But in between, vast seas of time that lay uncharted, memories were lost to the void. Some were merely blurred - he could recall perhaps a name or sound or face, but the rest were hazy- as if he was trying to peer at them through a foggy window on a snowy day. Others were gone completely, opening a dark, gaping pit in his mind, peppering his past with questions that he had no answers for.

He blinked slowly, wincing as he got to his feet. Sand crunched beneath his shoes, the rushing sound of the sea lapping at the shore beside him. He was on a small island, surrounded on all sides by the rich blue of the ocean.

Where was he?

He was quite sure he had never been here before. Stupid memory.

Swearing under his breath, he tilted his head, glancing around. And from the corner of his eye he saw a dark blur flying towards him, swooping through the air.

"Phil?" He managed to mutter, incredulous. Phil was the only one with wings after all.

And then the person landed, and he realized that it was, in fact, not Phil. It was a man in a red sweater, grinning widely, a pair of wings on his back.

"Who's Phil?"

"No one," he grumbled, irritated. "Why do you have wings?"

The man blinked. "These?" He reached behind his back and stretched out one of his wings. It was smooth and grey, made not of feathers but rather some sort of flexible, cloth-like material that shimmered with violet hues in the sun.

Tommy nodded.

"They're elytras," came the answer, and Tommy didn't miss the slight tone of amusement. Who was this man mocking him? Who did this guy think he was?

"Why are you smiling like that?" He demanded instead.

The man blinked, looking startled. "I- I'm just excited. We don't get new people very often. Especially children."

"I'm not a child," Tommy protested indignantly. "I'm a big man. The biggest, most massive, amazing powerful man alive."

The other guy (who was he, anyway?) nodded, looking not at all convinced. "Suuuure. Who invited you?"