Herobrine X Reader - Love's Wither Rose (COMPLETE)

10 - Please

One wave after another, the raid just kept coming. Herobrine couldn't trust himself enough to move, let alone fight. (Y/N) noticed, and unsheathed his sword to use themselves. It occurred to him then, somewhere in the back of his mind, that (Y/N) had no other weapons or armour - they weren't prepared to fight.

And yet, there they went seemingly without a second thought, cutting down the illagers as their army advanced, ushering the villagers into their houses.

Herobrine didn't notice much, though.

The whole world seemed cloudy, and there was a high-pitched ringing in his ears while everything else sounded like he was underwater. Everything ached. He felt sick.

What little coherent thought he had drifted away to the book given to him by that evoker at the outpost as part of their deal. The book was all he needed to reclaim what was rightfully his. Thinking of that hardcover book led his mind to remember the notebook - crudely bound with leather scraps and string - that he had accidentally left at (Y/N)'s house. The one that caused them to meet.

<•••>

"Why are you here?" They had asked, sword lowered but their arm still tense and ready to use it.

Herobrine had nodded to the two notebooks on the desk and slowly pulled out from his cloak the one he mistakenly left.

"I came to get this. I gave you the wrong one - the one I meant to give you is on that desk."

"Ah, right," (Y/N) giggled. Herobrine couldn't explain it then any better than he could now, but the sound of them laughing made him feel something (even if their laugh wasn't the most conventionally "attractive" thing). "I was beginning to wonder why anyone would anonymously gift a book filled with all their thoughts and feelings."

An awkward silence quickly filled the small room, and (Y/N) was fast to break it.

"Why did you help me out, anyways?"

"I…I don't know, if I'm being honest."

They had a point. Why did he help them? Was it pity, or perhaps his own loneliness getting the better of him?

"Well, regardless -" (Y/N) waved a dismissive hand. "- I guess this means I owe you one."

<•••>

Herobrine looked around him. He needed to find (Y/N) and help them. This was all his fault in the first place.

He shakily stood up and ran through the village and between the buildings. He didn't know how long the raid had been going for at this point, but he could guess it had been a while, judging by the bodies of villagers and illagers alike. He stopped dead at the sight of a child's stuffed toy now drenched with red blood.

Keep looking, he told himself.

Herobrine continued running. (Y/N) had to be close - they had to.

He dodged around the body of a ravager and - there!

(Y/N) stood against both an evoker and a vindicator (excluding the vexes). They swung the sword and cut two of the vile little creatures clean in half. The vindicator went in with his axe, but (Y/N) blocked the attack and kicked him back hard.

Herobrine could see now the blood that stained their (F/C) shirt and that one of their eyes was swollen almost shut. A deep, ragged gash on their thigh bled heavily and they struggled to keep even footing.