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#Grian sure as hell didn’t give him any
scatterbrainedart · 1 year
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Desert duo is a disease and I am on my goddamn death bed
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weirdeggii · 1 month
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Yall this is my favorite day so far. Get ready for @skizzlemanweek day 5!
Prompt 5: Stars/Hearts - Double Life AU!
(Also inspired by this art by @fence-time )
Gathered together in a large forest in a small/bordered world, fourteen people woke up.
As they woke up, they knew exactly where they were: another death game.
Skizz hovered above them on a cloud, watching as they wandered the world, looking for who they were destined to find: their soulmates.
And it was up to Skizz to pair them together.
As an Angel, Skizz had the unique ability to read people’s souls. Not explicitly, like words on a page, but rather implicitly, like palm reading.
He could read people’s souls, and he was tasked with pairing them up.
He had been mining in his single player world when two masked beings with elaborate wings appeared in front of him. Skizz recognized them as The Watchers.
Skizz had been participating in the Death Games for a while, but he wanted to take a break.
The watchers promised that he could skip the next round of the games, as long as he helped them in return.
And well, here he is.
Floating on a cloud over the server of Double Life.
He was only required to be there for the first day, to make sure that everyone found their partners and that nothing went wrong.
The watchers gave him free reign to pair up whoever he wanted, and Skizz did his best to make sure his friends would be in happy relationships.
He paired his best friend Impulse with Bdubs - because he knew, (from conversations behind closed doors,) that Impulse already had a thing for him, but was too shy to say anything.
Skizz didn’t pride himself on much, but he was one hell of a wingman!
For his buddy Tango, he had much less to go off of. He ended up choosing someone whose soul looked most compatible - Jimmy.
Grian and Scar had teamed up before, and their souls seemed like a decent match, so he figured, why not?
(The watchers seemed particularly happy when he paired Grian with Scar, for some reason.)
He had made sure to read each of his friends' souls carefully before selecting their partners. He wanted to make sure that they would be as happy as could be while on this server.
And after submitting all his choices to the watchers, they told him they would call him when the game began.
And here he is, watching his friends wake up, confused, with sudden knowledge in their heads that they had a soulmate, but with no idea of who.
Skizz decided to keep his eyes on Impulse, since he had the highest expectations for how he’d react to finding his soulmate.
Impulse broke away from the main group, going on a brief mining trip before returning to the surface.
Skizz grinned as he approached a nearby group of people. One of them just so happened to be Bdubs.
Skizz was way too high up to hear what they were saying, but he saw Impulse give Bdubs a shield, and then give one to Etho and Scar as well.
Skizz was nearly twitching with anticipation. At any moment now, someone could fall off a cliff or get punched, and then, boom! It’ll be raining hearts and their souls will be touched with love’s swift embrace.
Literally. It’s something only visible to an angel, but it’s true! When meeting one’s true love, their souls are tied together with an invisible thread of love!
Or, well, at least that’s what he’s heard. The other angels back home always told him that, but they also said it doesn’t happen for everyone. They also said the term “true love” is outdated, as people can have multiple true loves, or different types of true lovers.
The soul-embrace that occurs only signifies that the two people have high potential with each other, or have a high likelihood of getting along. The soul embrace can also happen between multiple people, from what he’s heard!
But, according to the Watchers, in this world people are limited to one soulmate, whom they will share their health with.
And the soul-bonds are temporary and will be removed immediately upon exit of this world.
Which is a bummer. But hey! At least he has the opportunity to create long-lasting friendships through means of a death game!
Skizz shook his head to get his thoughts back and focused his attention back to the group on the ground.
Scar had just come running from a cave, several arrows stuck in the end of his shield. He spoke with the others for a bit before Etho handed Impulse a sword, nudging him in the direction of the cave.
Impulse peered over the edge, clutching his shield and sword tight.
Then he toppled forward as Scar pushed him, arms pinwheeling as he fell into the cave.
Skizz watched a pain signal hit Impulse’s soul, then watched with wide eyes as it trailed along a thread that wasn’t there before, all the way to Bdubs.
Bdubs jumped as Impulse fell, turning around to yell at the person who pushed him, but stopped when he saw no one there.
He grabbed Etho's shoulder, presumably asking if he pushed him. Etho was too distracted by laughing at Impulse to notice.
Scar jumped in the cave after him, and Etho followed, leaving Bdubs behind looking very confused.
Skizz giggled as Bdubs followed behind them. He flopped down onto his stomach, kicking his feet behind him like a girl at a sleepover.
Now he only had to wait for Impulse to notice, and then sparks would fly!
A few minutes later, Scar left the cave with Bdubs, and for a moment Skizz was worried he’d missed the big moment. But when Impulse left with Etho, his soul was the same as when he’d entered, and Skizz knew he hadn’t missed his chance.
They reunited later in the day outside the pillager outpost. Everyone decided to attack the pillagers and rescue the allays, and Impulse and Bdubs were both part of the fight.
Skizz thought they had figured it out when Bdubs was getting shot, but Impulse just shared his food with Bdubs before continuing to fight the pillagers.
They ended up cooking mutton together, and Skizz simultaneously wanted to strangle Impulse out of frustration and hug him with excitement.
“Your soulmate is right there!” Skizz strained. “Cmon, why can’t you see it?”
At one point, Bdubs took damage directly in front of Impulse, and he still didn’t notice!
And Skizz could tell. He wouldn’t see the full effect of the soul-embrace unless both parties were aware of it.
So it’s not like Impulse was just pretending not to notice. He was just that oblivious.
Which Skizz really should’ve known by now. He’d seen how Bdubs acted around him without a soul bond and still couldn’t tell he was into him.
They followed Scar to the ravine to look for resources when Bdubs got hit by a skeleton.
Impulse shouted and grabbed his shoulder, whipping around to face the empty air behind him.
He looked confused for a moment before turning to look at Bdubs.
He had an arrow in his shoulder.
Bdubs ran past Impulse to kill a zombie that tried to sneak up on him, and Impulse stared as he passed.
The zombie hit Bdubs in the leg, and Impulse winced as he felt the hit as well.
Skizz was on the edge of his seat, watching as Impulse slowly walked up behind him.
As Bdubs slayed the zombie, he turned to face Impulse. The goofy grin he was wearing faltered as he looked at Impulse’s face.
Skizz frowned. He wished he could hear them, but he’d have to settle for reading lips.
“Bdubs,” Impulse said, “I think we’re soulmates.”
“Oh.” He said, jaw relaxed and stars in his eyes.
Skizz held his hands to his mouth. The anticipation was killing him!
Bdubs’ face broke out in a grin. “This is amazing!” He held out his hands. “This is us!”
Impulse smiled, taking Bdubs’ hands with his own. “This is us.”
A green thread slowly tied itself around their hearts as they linked hands. It circled around their arms before connecting at their conjoined hands.
Skizz watched in awe as the green light from their souls rippled outward from their chests like waves, each one taking the shape of a heart.
This is everything I’d ever imagined it’d be.
Impulse glanced up from their conjoined hands. “So. If we’re soulmates now, there’s something I should ask…”
Bdubs grinned even wider.
“I, um. Would you. Do you… are we, like… dating? Would you like to? Uh, date. I mean.”
Bdubs threw his head back with a cheer. “Finally! Yes, Impulse, I’d love to date you.”
Impulse ducked his head and grinned. “Great. So, now what do we-“
Impulse was cut off as Bdubs lifted his head and kissed him.
Skizz leaped up from his spot on the cloud and cheered. “Yeah, baby!” He gave himself a high five. “That’s what I’m talkin’ bout!”
The soul bond glowed a brighter green as they embraced, even long after the kiss ended.
They finally broke apart when Scar came up to them, loudly congratulating the cute couple.
They walked away side by side, already discussing plans for their shared house.
Skizz spent another moment celebrating to himself. He always knew he was a great wingman!
He might just stick around and see how the other soulmates will do!
This is gonna be a great game.
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frozenjokes · 27 days
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grub snippet
“Right.” Cub looked amused, “I guess that means you’ve made plans then?”
“Of course I’ve made plans!” Grian straightened up, pleased, and flared his wings to show them off, feathers recently preened and painstakingly brushed through. It took a moment for him to catch the undertones of Cub’s words, the hint of disappointment behind the question. “I- I mean unless you had any ideas! I’m very flexible.”
“Oh, it’s nothing much, really. I was just curious about that government building all the superheroes file in and out of, y’know. Where you and HotGuy have been working out? You said a lot of stuff was centralized there, right? Tailors and such for costuming, private gyms and break rooms, weapon smiths.. anything a hero could need, really.” Cub shrugged, a lazy, deliberate smile crossing his face, the kind of expression Grian only saw on Cub when he was about to suggest something stupid or illegal.
“Okay..”
“You think they have gunpowder? I mean, I’m sure they do, but I’m also looking for other minerals, dyes, things along those lines. I bought the casings already, but I was just thinking, your place probably has an abundance of the stuff I need, and I doubt they’d notice if a few things went missing.”
So stupid AND illegal today. “Cub, are you asking me to steal extremely shady materials from a government facility for you.”
“Of course not. You don’t know what I’m looking for exactly, and you don’t have the tact for this sort of thing. I’m asking you to bring me with you so I can steal shady materials from a government facility.”
Grian was suddenly forced to reconsider every denial of his feelings for Cub at therapy today in one fell swoop. He barely had the words to speak, the revelation making his mouth run dry. “That sounds very illegal, Cub. They don’t even like me there, I don’t know if that’s a great idea at this point in time.” There was no rejection or denial under Grian’s voice, only some sort of lovesick fascination, the kind of feelings he always felt when he remembered Cub was easily just as fucked in the head as he was.
“I don’t think we’ll have any issues. If I’m being honest, I’m sure you’re far from the only bad tempered hero in their roster. They probably hate everyone who goes in and out of that place. I was thinking you get me in as your private scientist, assistant, whatever. I make you shit. And if they push back, you give them hell. You’re probably high profile enough to get what you want, right? Or maybe you should be nice instead. They might appreciate that. Or they might be suspicious. It doesn’t matter. I bought a lab coat and everything.”
“You- seriously?”
“Well I wanted one anyway, and I thought I might need it. You’ve got a job now, so I figured I’d treat myself.”
“Lab coats can not be that expensive- actually, don’t respond to that. I don’t want to know. I do want to know what you’re planning on doing with gunpowder though. You’re not making bombs, are you?”
“Not like, big bombs.”
“Cub!”
“I want to make fireworks. I want to try. How much do you know about fireworks, Grian? They’re really very cool. I’ve been watching all sorts of videos; went all the way down the rabbit hole. They’re awesome, man. I gotta try. I gotta.”
“You. Are going to lose all of your fingers. Possibly your arms.”
Cub didn’t miss a beat. “Technology is crazy, I bet they can sew that shit right back on.”
“Not if you blow yourself up!”
“I probably won’t blow myself up. I’m assuming that’s a ‘no’ then for working on this in the apartment.” Cub smirked, and Grian could only gape stupidly for a few moments, utterly shocked.
“You absolutely can not play with explosives in our apartment!”
“Gotcha,” Cub laughed, and Grian groaned into his hands, dragging them all the way down his face.
just a wip I wanted to share. I’m having a bad day so I just wanted to post a little something. If you’re interested in the rest of the story you can read it on ao3 here
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liloinkoink · 1 year
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anyway i wrote a fun little edit to actually include my ideas for Grian from the treesekai fic. so here’s the Scar scene quickly rewritten to have that now in the middle
Martyn watches Impulse and his chaperone go with a smile, then turns his eyes back to the crowd. There’s really only one person Martyn has yet to see, and the more he thinks about it, the more sure he is that the final option is his best one.
Silver-tongued and shady, Scar Goodtimes, advisor to the King. Scar is a fan-favorite, charming and funny. He dresses more colorfully than even the royal options, and if one plays his route, they’ll find him strongly implied to have some kind of magical ability that is never fully elaborated on.
Though he seems incompetent at first glance, all wide smiles and clumsy movements, it’s a cover for the fact he’s been blatantly skimming off the top of the King’s coffers for years.
His bad end is probably the most tame, simply landing him in jail for money laundering. That in itself is proof of Scar’s insidiously skillful speech, of course, talking himself out of even the gallows.
Even if Martyn follows the bad end exactly, no one has to die, which gives him the most wiggle room to try to wrench free a happy ending for the King. And, honestly, Scar probably should be in jail, anyway, on account of the ridiculous amount of money he’s stolen.
But bloodless doesn’t mean easy. When Martyn finally spots Scar’s ridiculous purple jacket and striped pants across the room, he’s standing beside the main problem with his route: Grian.
Scar’s route is especially difficult because, unlike the other three love interests, Scar’s story has two villains: Ren, a rival for Bdubs’s affections; and Grian, a rival for Scar’s.
Grian and Scar already have something brewing in this point in the story, though it hasn’t yet been acted on. Hell, if the player picks any route other than Scar’s and approaches the bad end, Scar and Grian will skip town with all of Scar’s stolen funds, exacerbating any existing problem for Ren and Bdubs—forcing the player to consider the possibility of war with the Crastle, for example, with a significant loss in funds to support the country through it.
If the player picks Scar’s route, then they have Grian to deal with. And christ, is that guy a pain in the ass.
He’s much closer to the normal sort of villain you’d see in any other dating sim, trying to sabotage the player for the sake of securing Scar’s heart. Petty insults and slights which quickly escalate until Grian very nearly sets Bdubs on fire toward the middle of the Scar route, making for one of the route’s most climactic moments of drama.
Not to mention he’s basically nonexistent in any other route, which makes Martyn even less willing to convince Bdubs to pursue Scar. If Martyn does pursue that route, he’s going to have to contend with playing the game with an actual antagonist, a factor that will otherwise be absent if he’s trying to help the character who is usually AtPM’s one and only villain.
But then again, Bdubs didn’t have any help in his route. Now he’ll have Martyn, however self-serving and dishonest Martyn’s motives may be. Perhaps having someone on his side will make the secondary villain easier to manage.
And, again, it’s not like anyone dies. Even if Martyn fails to manage the second villain, Bdubs and Scar and even Grian will survive. The King will survive.
In the end, Scar really is the best option.
With his target and ending in mind, all Martyn has to do is find Bdubs and engineer a first meeting himself.
Really, how late could the guy possibly be?
[og fic here]
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pixiemage · 2 years
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Domino Effect - Part 5
[ Previous | Next ]
(After the beheading of the Red King comes a visit to the Hobbits in search of an alliance, as always...though things go a bit differently when the King isn't yet red and when he has other plans that he hasn't told his Hand about. Oh yeah, and Ren knows Martyn is stuck in a time loop, doesn't he?)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Listen, we can put off the whole beheading thing, alright?” he offered, watching Martyn over his sunglasses. “Let’s head inside and talk it over and maybe we can figure out a plan of action. Sound good?”
Martyn took a breath and a half-smile made its way onto his face.
“Sounds great, boss.”
“You’ve tried starting out with Team Crastle?”
“Yep,” Martyn muttered, popping the ‘p’. “They’re the first people I teamed up with after I tried going it without you.”
“Ah. Right. Er…you didn’t mention Grian and Scar…?”
“Nope.” At that, Martyn grimaced and paused his pacing, casting a sideways glance toward where Ren was sitting on the bed against the wall. “Like I said, the voices don’t like Grian much. I’m pretty sure they killed me outright the one time I tried to join the Desert Monopoly.”
Ren frowned.
“Maybe you should talk to Grian about all this?” he suggested. “I mean, he’s clearly important to all this somehow, and he’s the admin, so–”
“Shit–” Martyn clamped his hands over his ears with a wince when the chorus of voices rose in outcry against that idea. He scowled. “Nope! No, not happening. No way.”
“Oh, geez dude, you okay?” Ren asked, starting to get to his feet, but Martyn quickly waved him away.
“It’s fine,” he bit out. “Just the bloody voices. Void can they get loud. Assholes.”
“Alright, so…not Grian,” Ren nodded slowly, sinking back onto the bed again all while keeping a concerned eye on his teammate. “Maybe just Scar then? I mean - I don’t remember when he lost his first life, but if it was after you showed up at Renchanting, then maybe you can save him? Maybe Grian won’t team up with him?”
Martyn paused, pondering that. Ren…actually had an interesting idea there. Martyn had never attempted to separate any team besides his own. Separating himself and Ren had created some interesting balance shifts in battles…so perhaps, if Scar was alone on Monopoly Mountain or if Grian turned to another team for the entirety of the game, it would create some pretty substantial waves in the timeline. After all, together Scar and Grian had always been a pretty formidable pair. A part of Martyn wondered if maybe that would be the key to ending the loop…but another part of him dreaded having to go through another dozen runs just to figure out if the breaking of the duo would even work. He hummed thoughtfully.
“That’s not bad,” he told Ren. “Though I wouldn’t mind coming up with other ideas before the ol’ all-powerful gods in my head decide to up and dump me in a new timeline again.”
“Ah - yeah, that might be best,” Ren agreed, the thought making him look uneasy. “Er…the Hobbits. You said you’ve teamed with them before too?”
“Oh, yeah, few times,” Martyn nodded. He finally gave up on pacing and dropped onto the bed next to Ren, dragging his hands over his face. It was still late, still completely dark out, seeing as the whole sacrificial-altar thing had been meant to happen beneath the full moon. Exhaustion was beginning to creep into the edges of his thoughts but he refused to give in just yet. “Er…yeah. We gained an alliance with them a few times, and I spent a dozen or so timelines by joining them at the start.” He smiled wryly. “Funny, how I ended up on the same team as you for a few of those as well. The King and the Hobbits, joined up by yours truly from both ends of the equation.”
“Really?” Ren grinned. “Did we work well together?”
“Er…yeah, pretty well,” Martyn mused. He let himself fall back across the bed, his feet on the floor and his eyes tracing cracks in the stone above his head. “I mean - Scott’s a hell of a fighter when he wants to be, and they had access to better potions than we do. It was kind of nice hanging with Timmy too, even if he tended to die a bit quicker than the rest.”
He went quiet for a moment, remembering. A foggy memory lingered at the edge of his awareness, something about Jimmy and Hobbiton and the lake and a night sky…
“It was quieter,” Martyn found himself saying, the words soft and nostalgic. “Especially when I was livin’ with them. Peaceful, almost, between battles anyway. Their base is kind of secluded and safe from the rest of the havoc on the server, and being around Jimmy always made the voices quieter.”
“It did?” Ren’s questioning voice dragged Martyn back to the present, making him aware enough to see the gears spinning behind Ren’s eyes and to hear the quiet, disgruntled murmuring of the voices at the back of his mind. Something about what he’d just said was upsetting them somehow, though he couldn’t fathom what it could be.
“It…what?” he asked, frowning. “What did what?”
“You said–” Ren turned on the bed, drawing a bent leg up onto the mattress so he could face Martyn better. “You said being around Jimmy made the voices quieter.”
Martyn blinked at him, confused.
“I did?”
“Uh - yes?” Ren cocked his head to the side, his ears twitching and his eyes narrowed. “Yeah, you did. Just now.”
“I…” Martyn stared, bemused. “What are you talking about?”
Something shifted behind Ren’s gaze, his worry compounding into something sharper, something more calculating. He opened his mouth, closed it, and let his eyes cast out over the cave they were sat in.
“You said we worked well with the Hobbits in other timelines, right?” Ren asked, and the sudden shift in topic and the forced casual tone of his words through Martyn for a loop. He sat up, squinting at Ren questioningly for a tick or two before huffing out a breath.
“Er, yeah. I s’ppose. I was getting close to a decent run before I jumped off the wall.”
“Before you–” Ren blinked at him, a question clearly on his tongue, but he seemed to shake it away. “Well if you want to postpone me turning red, maybe we should build up allies. You said Scott was a good fighter. Maybe we can talk to him in the morning and see if he has any ideas on how to win this thing, you know what I’m sayin’?”
Martyn knew Ren well. He had spent countless runs at the man’s side and he knew when Ren was hiding something from him. But for all that he wanted to be annoyed with his supposed partner for keeping secrets when tonight Ren had been hell-bent on proving their loyalties to each other (prior to Martyn’s earth-shattering admittance at the altar), Martyn was simply too exhausted right now to pursue it. He’d have to pester Ren about it in the morning, but for now he simply sighed and ran a hand through his hair, remembering belatedly that he’d have to retrieve his headband from the carrot fields in the morning.
“...yeah,” he muttered, pushing himself upright with a stifled yawn. “Y-Yeah, that - sure. At the very least, something’ll change since you’re not the Red King just yet. I’m game to try that out at least once.”
Ren was eyeing him still, calculating and curious, but the comment brought the quirk of a smile to Ren’s lips.
“You’ve never tried to stop me at the altar before?”
“I - no.” Martyn blinked up at him. “No, I haven’t. Either I wanted to prove my loyalty to you, or - I dunno - I s’ppose either Skizz or Etho just went along with it whenever I wasn’t on your team.”
“Skizz and Etho?” Ren cocked his head to the side.
“Oh - yeah, they–” Martyn snorted, the sound coming out tired. He bent down to take off his boots. “Whenever I wasn’t the Hand to the King, it was one o’ them. Depended on the run, I guess. It was off-the-walls surreal, let me tell you. I reckon I’m a better Hand than either o’ them would be, any day of the week.”
“Well Etho’s never been the most invested person when it comes to roleplay,” Ren admitted with a chuckle. “He has fun with it, sure, but I like that you’re willing to go all-in on my crazy ideas.”
At that, Martyn’s grin widened and he shot Ren a pair of finger guns with a click of his tongue.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way, boss.”
Heading over to the Hobbits the next morning was strange, in Martyn’s opinion. He hadn’t really bothered wondering why Ren wanted to do so in the first place, because it was normally their first stop after Ren’s beheading in timelines past. The difference here being, of course, that Ren wasn’t red. Normally Ren and Martyn (or Ren and Skizz, or Ren and Etho) would go on a server tour after the rise of the Red King in an effort to collect offerings and allies in exchange for loyalty and the protection of Dogwarts. This trip held no red banners and there was no message Ren was trying to send. No, this time they were reaching out with more friendship than ferocity, something that made Martyn feel like he was looking into a funhouse mirror with how similar yet not the whole situation was.
Part of the surreality sat in the fact that Martyn seemed to be doing more of the talking than Ren this time around. He supposed he could chalk it up to Ren being on yellow instead of red - he knew full well that being red messed with peoples’ heads - but it still felt odd. He and Ren were perched on stepping stones in the middle of the Hobbits’ little lake with Scott staring at them judgingly from the shoreline and Jimmy - like always - nowhere in sight. It was how this conversation always began, even if the dialogue was going a little differently this time.
“You want to be allies?” Scott repeated, raising an eyebrow at them and folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t know if you realize this, but Scar and Grian came over and offered us the same thing yesterday. Last I heard you two weren’t exactly on friendly terms with them.”
“They offered you an alliance after they blew up Jimmy?” Martyn asked, eyebrows raised.
He knew full well that they had done so - he had lived with the Hobbits for a series of runs, after all, and Grian and Scar had graced their doorstep in every run without fail if Jimmy was caught up in the bombing of Dogwarts. (They didn’t seem to bother stopping by with their first offering of allyship unless Jimmy died, and during runs where Martyn steered the Hobbits toward accepting Ren’s banner, the Sand People didn’t bother coming by at all to offer it the second time.) But regardless, Martyn knew the Desert Duo must have been here the day before, he just had to pretend that he didn’t.
“Well, technically, Jimmy got himself blown up,” Scott drawled, amused and adoring, in a what-am-I-gonna-do-with-him sort of way. He and Martyn exchanged a smirk before the bluenet carried on. “But anyway, they apologized. Jimmy wasn’t the target of that TNT minecart, you two were.”
“Oh, come off it, you heard Grian’s laugh,” Martyn shot back, rolling his eyes. He jerked a thumb in the direction of the desert. “The madman was enjoying the chaos, and he didn’t care who got caught up in it. He killed three people, on green, for Scar, and he loved every second of it.”
“Oi! What’s goin’ on out here?”
Right on cue, Martyn thought, watching Jimmy emerge from a door he knew led down to the zombie spawner. The red player looked a bit worse for wear, his skin grayed out with lingering residue from the explosion marring his coloring. Martyn grinned.
“Hey Timmy!” he called out cheerfully. “Don’t mind us, we’re just pestering your husband.”
Almost immediately Jimmy was between them and Scott, his sword drawn and his eyes alight. It seemed that even if Ren wasn’t red, Jimmy would always be ready to defend Scott in this game.
“No, Jimmy, it’s fine–”
“I’m - I’m stickin’ up for you!” Jimmy insisted, cutting off Scott’s quiet protests.
The echo of another timeline - “My red could beat up your red any day!” - whispered at the back of Martyn’s thoughts, and he brushed it aside. They weren’t challenging the Hobbits this time around. They were trying to befriend them. Right?
“Ah, Jimmy!” Ren grinned, waving. “Just the man I wanted to see. D’you mind if we have a word in private?”
…wait, what?
“What?” Martyn blinked and eyed Ren questioningly, and the voices began to chatter in the back of his mind, though they felt oddly muted. (They always felt oddly muted here.) He felt as though it should be more of a familiar sensation than it was. He also had the sneaking suspicion Ren’s abandonment of the plan had something to do with whatever he had been keeping his lips sealed about the night before. “Ren, what–?”
“You’re not talking to Jimmy alone,” Scott said sharply, glaring at them both from across the water. “You might not be red, but that didn’t stop Grian from killing three people.”
Jimmy spluttered out a protest.
“Can’t I speak for myself? I’m not incompetent–”
“I never said you were. I’m just sticking up for you.”
“You - don’t use my own words against me!”
“Ren,” Martyn repeated, grabbing Ren’s shoulder before the other man could hop off across the water like it seemed he was about to do. “What are you doing? This wasn’t part of the plan!”
“You said the voices were quieter when Jimmy was around,” Ren told him, his words sharp and a little exasperated, his smile dropping. “You told me that, and then you forgot you’d even said it. And you said that they probably killed you for trying to team up with Grian a few timelines ago, right? And when I said you should tell Grian the truth and ask for help, you got a crazy headache because they didn’t agree with that plan. Right?”
“I–” Martyn blinked, wincing against the muffled uproar that flooded his head with each word Ren spoke. He hissed and clutched at his head, though - just as Ren had said - it was quieter than he was sure it normally would have been. It was quieter, and if Ren was right, it was because Jimmy was nearby. Regardless, it took him by surprise and he swayed on the spot where he was perched on the stepping stone, Ren’s hands grabbing at his arms to keep him steady. “I…maybe? It’s - I can’t really remember–”
“...what voices?”
Martyn fought against his headache and glanced across the water to see Jimmy giving him a wide-eyed look, ignoring Scott’s groping hand as the other player tried to tug him back to the shore.
“Jimmy, it could be a trap,” Scott insisted on a hiss, tension around his eyes. “You’re red. I don’t want to lose you–”
“Scott, it’s fine,” Jimmy insisted. He shook off his husband’s grip and jumped to the next stepping stone. His focus snapped back to the members of Dogwarts, concern etched in his features. “What voices?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Martyn heard himself say, the words leaving him unbidden while Ren let out a frustrated huff of exasperation.
“Martyn–”
“Ren said voices, I heard him.” Jimmy frowned, and recognition sharpened his eyes. “It’s not the Listeners, is it?”
Martyn stilled. Something about this conversation was familiar, too familiar.
“The what now?” The words left him without his full control. What was happening?
“The–” Jimmy lost his footing and yelped, scrambling to find balance again while Scott cried out behind him. He lept to the next stepping stone, a larger one, and once he was balanced he faced Martyn straight-on with a strange look on his face. “You know, back in Evo? The Listeners. They spoke to us, remember?”
“I’ve got no idea what you’re on about, Timmy.”
Martyn felt Ren’s hold on his arm tighten slightly and he saw Scott go pale in the background, quiet swearing in a thick accent filling the air as the blue-haired player dragged a hand over his mouth. (A stray recognition crossed Martyn’s mind, the realization that Jimmy must have told Scott about Them for him to be reacting like this, though who They were or what even needed telling both seemed to elude him. There was something significant happening here, he just wasn’t sure what.)
“This - this isn’t part of the game, is it?” Scott asked on a breath, his eyes wide and seeking out Ren’s. Beside Martyn, Ren shook his head.
“Definitely not.”
“Martyn, what do you mean you don’t–” Jimmy’s puzzled expression darkened and a tension appeared around his eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you remember about Evo?”
“What d’you mean, what do I remember?” Martyn spluttered incredulously. He tugged out of Ren’s hold, nearly losing his footing in the process but not going down. The voices in his head were still chattering, still annoyed, but they seemed to be getting quieter and quieter with each step Jimmy was taking across the lake. “Evo - it’s one of the first servers we joined together, you nutter. Grian made it. You and Big B were a part of it, and Grian’s friend Pearl, and Taurtis, and–”
Martyn’s head throbbed painfully.
–and Taurtis went missing, and Grian did too, and we were sure They were behind it - so sure but no proof - and then Someone came along to protect us from Them, and while the rest of us escaped nobody knew what had happened to Grian or Taurtis or where they had gone, until Grian appeared in Hermitcraft one day as if nothing had happened, but something had changed - everything had changed - and–
“No, Martyn, I mean–” Jimmy was running a hand through his hair now, the gray-blond strands awry and his expression strained. “Do you remember the Watchers?”
The name sent a shiver down Martyn’s spine. For a moment - for a brief moment - dread and terror flooded him, his fight-or-flight on the verge of kicking in. He had been here before. This had happened before. They had said these things, felt these things, all before. Hadn’t they? Then a tidal wave of calm threatened to wash it all away, tried to clear it from his thoughts as easily as breathing, but he clung to his unease. He clung to it desperately and his breath hitched and he searched Jimmy’s face. The Watchers? What Watchers? He had to know–
“The…the what?” he whispered hoarsely.
Jimmy let out a strangled sort of sound, one of distress, and he jumped one stepping stone closer so he was right in front of the other former member of Evo.
“The Watchers,” he repeated, insistent. “They - they ruined everything on Evo. How do you not remember…?”
A grayed hand reached out for him, chilled fingers closing around his bare wrist, and it felt as though the air had been knocked from Martyn’s lungs. Something seemed to explode inside him, his thoughts clearing like the aftermath of a storm and mental aches he didn’t know he had were dispelled in an instant. The voices - the voices, the ever-present voices that had been tormenting him for years - went impossibly silent, their presence blocked off in a way they never had been before.
It was as if Martyn’s head was clear for the first time in an eon, as if he felt more fully himself for the first time in far too long. Then memories flooded in, things he didn’t even know he had forgotten, memories from Evo that Jimmy kept trying to remind him of, Listeners and Watchers and oh god, they’d talked about this before, by this lake, and he’d been killed for it and Grian, Grian returning from captivity after Evo like a man resurrected, reuniting with all of them and admitting - months after his return - what They had turned him into.
“It’s not all of them,” he had been quick to reassure. “The ones who were watching over Evo at the start were kind. The ones who found me, who took me - the ones who took over Evo after I was gone - they’re the worst sort imaginable…” and “Taurtis is okay, by the way. He’s a Watcher now too, but unlike me he ended up with the right sort…”
“Jimmy…” Martyn choked out, eyes wide and distant as far too many puzzle pieces began to click into place. “Jimmy, I think - I think the server’s in danger.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
[A/N: WOOOO PLOT! This story is getting so much longer than I meant for it to, but I'm having a BLAST writing it so I can't complain! Also...some loose Evo canon manipulation lol. Creative liberties might be taken because I haven't actually seen Martyn's POV - only Grian's - so I had to do some quick research to at least TRY to base it off of what happened in the series. Soooo cut me some slack if it's not quite right lol]
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socks-pawn · 2 years
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Hello! It is I, the anon with the mage!Grian idea! (Call me trash because that's what i am lol)
Enjoy this little blurb I wrote! It is still heavily in progress but its something! :D
~~~~
How did he get himself into this mess? He clearly didn’t realize what exactly he was signing up for…
“So, my dear little novice mage, do you think you can handle the two of us? You look quite spent with my friend there already~” The…thing in front of him purred. He doesn’t dare look anywhere but their face, not wanting to accidentally look at their…crotch.
No…I can’t. I can barely handle the one that hilted himself inside me already…
He opens his mouth to answer, gasping as the one holding him pulls almost completely out of him, and practically screams when they slam themselves back in. His hands claw at the ground, trying and failing to find any sort of grip on the smooth surface. Too much…way too much…
He grits his teeth when they start to slowly thrusting in and out, just grazing a certain area each time. The action would normally annoy the hell out of him, but he’s actually thankful they haven’t found it yet. He doesn’t want to know how they’ll abuse that information…and him…
The other one chuckles when he lets out a particularly whiny moan.
“Aww, poor little mage. He’s not letting you get a word in, hmm~”
He can only let out more moans as the thrusting gets faster, each thrust sending a shock throughout his nerves. One his legs gets lifted up, making them get him at a deliriously good worse angle. 
He’s not enjoying this, he’s not. He’s lying
He can just barely register the sound of laughing over the almost constant stream of moans tumbling out of his mouth. 
“You look so cute like that~” Light footsteps get closer to him. “You sure you’re meant to be a mage? You seem like you would do really well as a pet~”
“No…I’m not a pet…I don’t even like this.” Liar
He screams again when the area finally gets hit. Oh no... 
He tries kicking at the demon holding him, only getting his leg pinned down in the process.
“What was that about now, hmm? Might have to touch there again to see~”
He tries to squirm away. “No, not there…I screamed because it hurt. Please don’t do that agAIN!” 
His back arches as they hit the area again, needing to grit his teeth to hold back a moan. Just give in, it feels so good
The standing demon chuckles at him again. “You don’t need to hold back, summoner. We’ll take good care of you. Let all those bad little thoughts go from your mind and let the feeling take hold~”
He is going to end up absolutely spent on this floor…
Holy shit, this was so good, I am eating this :3 please if you ever write more send it my way <3333
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chrisrin · 2 years
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The Infinity AU
hello hermitcraft enjoyers! i am here dropping some work i’ve begun doing on an AU idea. i am warning you all, i am not a writer and this is not what i typically do so I apologize for any of my mistakes. 
it still needs to get fleshed out a lot, so i’m very open to ideas/asks about it to get the ol’ brain going. 
Here’s the context/basic overview:
Do you remember the Infinity Snapshot? If not, I’ll give you a rundown. It was a 1.16 snapshot made as an April Fools joke. It allowed you to use a specific bookshelf to get books that could be thrown into a portal to make it transport you to a completely new and randomized dimension. Every dimension was different, and all of them were weird and absurd twists on regular Minecraft. The blocks would sometimes be different, the mobs would be different, etc. It was a very wildly fun “update”.
This AU revolves around that Snapshot. The idea that somehow, in some way (maybe by the demands of some certain... Watchers) this snapshot snuck its way into Hermitcraft. These books started appearing around various places. In this “section” of the AU, we follow Doc, Ren, Grian, and Impulse. Doc comes across one of these books and it’s written in this scrawling Galactic text. Grian is the closest person Doc knows who can read Galactic fluently, so he goes to find him. After they have a brief discussion, they decide to go find Xisuma and ask him about the books. The two of them do a thorough days-long investigation and find X to be completely missing from the server. Even after talking to the other Hermits, it’s concluded that X has vanished. Somehow (I’m not sure how yet), Grian, Impulse, Doc, and Ren figure out that the books can be used on portals, and find themselves heading through to the other side, hoping that whatever they might come across will lead back where Xisuma is.
I have other ideas swimming around, but that’s all the context you need for this little blip of writing! Again, as a warning, I’m not really a writer so this isn’t my specialty. BUT, I do want to make art concepts for this AU in the future. Anyways, enjoy my stuff: 
Impulse’s vision blurs as the world around him shifts. With portals that enter the Nether or End, the transition would feel smooth. A clear gradient from one atmosphere to another, never too abrupt to feel uncomfortable. This was a very different feeling. The air itself felt like static, glitching and spiking into sensations on his skin. One second, it was hot and the next it was below freezing. His being felt disjointed and awkward, too fluid but simultaneously too stiff. It was paradoxical and wrong. And it all happened a split second too soon when suddenly he was sent flying out the other side, landing face-first into a floor of blue sand. 
Impulse let out a low wince as he raised and rubbed his head. He heard the collective groan of the others around him, a final vwoop of the portal as Ren was the last to stumble through. The blue sand… or maybe it was concrete? No, he knew this texture. It was definitely sand. Too fine to be the powdered concrete material he was familiar with. The hue was a deep indigo blue and seemed repelled by his skin. Sand would normally get in all the wrong places and stick like hell, but this stuff acted like it was eager to get off his body. Impulse came to his feet, his vision was still swimming a bit but he was able to glance at his surroundings. They had come out from the portal into a cave, lit wall-to-wall by cracks of shining silver veins. The cavern itself was fairly small and narrow, forking off into split paths. He didn’t see a way up in view.
“Is everyone alright?” Impulse asked, turning towards the other three. 
“Yeah, everything is fine here.” Doc replied, brushing himself off as he stood. Similar nods and noises of approval came from both Ren and Grian.
“Where are we?” said Grian, he wandered over towards the cave’s wall and gently touched the shining veins, “this isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before.”
Doc hummed thoughtfully, “It seems like that book took us to some new realm. Like another version of the Nether or End. We did come through a portal, and the portal’s color was different after we tossed the book into it. Maybe that had something to do with it?”
“That might be true, but I hadn’t heard a single word about a new realm or anything like that in development.” Impulse remarked, “And I’m sure X would’ve said something before any sort of server update. Surely he must’ve activated something? Maybe he loaded in some sort of modpack without realizing it?” 
Out of the corner of Impulse’s eye, he watched as Ren pulled up his communicator and tapped on the screen, “Uh, guys- I think we might have a problem.” He tapped the screen with a bit more concern, “Are your communicators also busted? I was sure to charge mine before we went in.” 
The three others pulled up their devices, all of them showed a black screen.
Grian, with a bit of a concern edged in his voice, turned back towards the portal, “Guys… I think we should get out of here as soon as possib--”
His voice was interrupted by the ear-splitting sound of glass breaking. It sounded distorted and warped, but it was still a sound they were all familiar with.
The portal had shattered. 
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sparxwrites · 2 years
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More self-indulgence, but in my defence I was asked to this time (by @florfering​). Without further ado: “yours were the arms (that the whole world was in)”, director’s cut edition. Once again, significantly longer than the fic itself. Whoops
You can find the fic in question here on tumblr or here on AO3, sans commentary.
Mumbo is not surprised when, the morning after Scar’s death, Grian runs away from the Southlands’ little trust exercise as soon as he’s been passed the life.
Martyn’s indignant squawks follow him as he flees, and Impulse gives brief chase, but Mumbo doesn’t bother. He knows exactly where Grian’s going. And he knows that Grian, even odds or better, will be back before long.
Opening gambit/premise here is that Mumbo and Grian know each other very well, and have known each other for a long time, and are in an… established relationship, of sorts. Of the “we’re soulmates/blood brothers and also we sleep together and maybe we’re a bit in love” variety, I think; they’re not platonic, by any means, but the basis of the relationship is this deep and abiding sense of a bond between them or a “meant to be by one another’s sides” kind of thing, and the sexual/romance component came a little after they’d already kind of ended up tied into one another.
Which makes this whole fic a weird kind of semi-wordless relationship negotiation, with Grian being like “hello, I found a man, can we keep him” and Mumbo evaluating whether he likes and trusts Scar enough to allow this. There’s a reason I tagged the thing “polyamory negotiations” on AO3! Do love me some relationships that are complicated and atypically-structured but still extremely deeply-felt and meaningful.
He’s even less surprised when Grian returns that evening, looking furtive and ashamed, and guiding a golden-eyed Scar by the hand through the still-rigged front gate.
The hand-holding is important here. I don’t know exactly what happened between “Scar died” and “Grian got another life into him”, but I do know that yellow Scar is uh… lightly traumatised, by the time they get back to the Southlands. Certainly still kind of actively in a shock response. So he’s vulnerable. This is not cool, collected, in control Scar – this is Scar who does actually kind of need Grian physically leading him, because he’s kind of dissociating out of his head a bit currently.
(Some of this is also because I subscribe to a theory some people have tossed around where Scar’s jump into the lava was at least partially intentional – both from a “I’m so fucking lonely and my attempts to buy friends didn’t work” perspective, and on a “Etho I’m going to go red deliberately so I can wreck your shit” perspective. Which is dialogue from Etho’s pov ep.5 that cc!Scar, interestingly, cut from his pov. Either way, I think c!Scar “slipped”, where it’s ambiguous even to him how much was him genuinely fucking up and falling into the trap and how much was him wanting to lose a life/punish people. The minute he hit the lava, though, he sure as all fucking hell regretted it, though, because burning alive hurts. So that’s another layer to the trauma-shock.)
The gate still being rigged is also important here– this is where Scar died! This is the site of his current trauma! And of Grian’s trauma, because that scream of “Scar!” was… whoof. It was something. So there’s a kind of mutual comfort going on here, as they navigate through the site of Scar’s death on the way back to what Grian considers safety. Scar physically requires Grian’s help, is very literally in Grian’s hands; and Grian needs the reassurance that Scar is still there, still with him, still safe.
It’s also very important you know that I’m imagining Mumbo as having like… pulled a deck chair over to the gate immediately after Grian left, and basically just sat in it all day, waiting for Grian to come back. Even when the others were saying no, Grian’s gone, Grian’s betrayed us, Mumbo just shrugged and smiled and waited.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” he says, without any malice, and Grian jumps. His wings flare, the feathers puffing up – expected, a standard Grian startle response. He steps between Mumbo and Scar, weight distributed evenly between his feet, his centre of gravity dropped in something that might be almost a fighting stance – less expected. Novel. Concerning.
Mumbo knowing Grian well enough to very automatically and immediately read his body language is kind of central to the fic. A lot of their “negotiation” in this is through this weird little dance for two they have going on, where every movement they make towards each other is imbued with immediately-understood meaning and symbolism. Scar isn’t privy to this language (which contributes to the issues later in the fic), but for both Mumbo and Grian there is a whole dialogue happening here, largely without words.
“Oh.” Grian relaxes when he realises who it is, though only a little. The feathers flatten again. His wings stay half-flared, though, and he stays in front of Scar. He still hasn’t let go of Scar’s hand. “It’s just you. I thought you might’ve been Martyn, come to–”
He makes a motion with his free thumb, a jerky slash across the front of his throat, and grins. It doesn’t reach his eyes.
Grian, deflecting from having genuine emotions and/or fear by making jokes or being facetious? Must be a day that ends in “y”.
Jokes aside, Grian is anxious. He doesn’t regret stealing the life, doesn’t even really care about Martyn or the other’s reactions to it, but he does value Mumbo’s feelings and good opinion of him. And he’s worried he’s fucked that up, and/or that Mumbo’s going to tell him that Scar can’t be in the Southlands – because then he’s got to chose between the two men he loves, and he really does not want to have to do that. Because he’s not sure who he’d choose, and that terrifies him, because it says something about the depth of the emotion he feels for Scar that he doesn’t really want to confront yet.
Mumbo sighs, and crosses the space between them to press a kiss to Grian’s temple. “Welcome back, idiot,” he says, fondly, and his chest warms at the way Grian’s eyes flutter half-closed, the way Grian tilts his head into the brief press of lips against skin. “I’ve been waiting for you all day.”
I’m a sucker for small and meaningful gestures of intimacy. Mumbo’s is, apparently, a kiss to the temple. It’s another part of the “weird little dance” I talked about earlier – it’s ‘just’ a forehead kiss, but Grian has the context to interpret it as forgiveness and intimacy and a reaffirmation of their bond, and responds accordingly by absolutely melting into it, even though that’s technically an ‘overreaction’ to a fairly ‘platonic’ kiss.
“I’m sorry.” And then– “I’m sorry, Mumbo, I know I shouldn’t have, but– I signed a contract.” There’s something pleading in Grian’s voice. Something that doesn’t sound like a contract at all.
Grian, yet again, deflecting. “I signed a contract” is way easier than attempting to articulate “I spent a whole world at this man’s side, and then he betrayed me, and then he knelt before me and offered me his throat and I refused to slaughter him like a lamb, and then I beat him to death with my bare hands until I was covered in his blood and left alone in an empty bloodsoaked world with the sinking feeling that he let me kill him, and now I don’t know what the fuck that means because he’s here again and he’s alive and I still love him and I still feel guilty and I am absolutely refusing to acknowledge or process literally any of this”.
Scar, behind him, has not said a word. The hood of his wizard’s robe is still up, pulled low over his face, leaving only golden eyes and the faint suggestion of lips visible through the shadow. His scars – old, pale, diagonal, cutting through one eye, through the other and the bridge of his nose, across his cheek to brush just right of the left corner of his lip – are invisible in the low light, but…
Aaaand we’re back to Scar’s reputation management habit. He’s less self-conscious about the aesthetics of the scars – he’s already got plenty of those – and more shying away from what they represent, i.e. the trauma of his recent death and the feelings/intentions associated with that. They also represent, visually, to other people, him “fucking up” via “falling” into an obvious trap that he’d already fallen into once – which is incompatible with the smooth and competent businessman thing he’s trying to do.
(I think, also, the respawn not working perfectly is… significant, from the perspective of the characters. I talk a bit below about my half-formed thoughts about the respawn being something semi-sentient for a generous definition of sentience, and the characters are aware of this, that it’s a thing that to some extent makes choices based on its own weird logic. So for Scar to have marks left from his death means that death was– significant. It wasn’t a silly accident, or a mistake, it’s got meaning to him, enough so that the respawn decided it should permanently mark him – which, for something that was ostensibly a silly slip into an obvious trap, raises some really uncomfortable questions from the the others for Scar that he really does not want to answer. Or have to think up a convincing lie about.)
When Mumbo squints, he can just about make out something red, something angry-looking, something with the texture of melted wax, crawling across Scar’s face towards the corner of his right eye. Towards the right corner of his mouth, half-pulled-up in what might not be a wry smile.
Something something Scar’s little smirking half-smile as a salesman’s affectation, part of his mask, now made permanent – and how that permanence/lack of voluntariness changes the emotional valency of it, both for how he feels about wearing it and how other people interpret it.
I enjoy writing about characters getting long-term injuries/disabilities/disfigurements that are really significant, not just because anything like that is significant, but because it interacts with something that is a really core part of themselves in a way that forces them to reckon with how they’ve constructed their own identity. Scar’s one is to do with how something that was part of his mask is no longer something he can take off at will; it changes the way he feels about his performance, because it’s less fun playing a part when you can no longer entirely drop the act at the end of the play. It changes the way people read the performance, too, because it’s obvious to everyone else that the smirk is involuntary – so it’s no longer a signal he can lean on, since people now read pity and lack of agency into it rather than competence and confidence.
“Hey, Mumbo,” says Scar, and when he smiles his salesman’s smile, the right side of his mouth hardly moves. His teeth flash white in the dark. His voice has the usual lilt to it, all effortless and easy charm, but it’s hollow in the middle, empty down to the bones. Dead inside. “I’d apologise for dropping in on you so unexpectedly, but I’m not sorry at all, so I won’t bother. And besides– I had an invite.”
Unfortunately, even a traumatised and shocky Scar is a bit of a cocky arse, even if the tone of voice doesn’t quite land. Maybe especially so, given he currently feels under threat and that’s a defence mechanism – but it’s also just how he is. Man’s got compulsive swagger in his bones.
Mumbo does not miss the way Grian’s fingers tighten around Scar’s hand. Does not miss the way Scar’s fingers – burns there, too, flowing down from his wrist over his pinky and ring finger – go white-knuckled in return.
Trauma bonding! Again, I don’t… entirely know what happened between Grian leaving the Southlands/Scar respawning and the two of them returning with Scar on yellow, but I don’t think it was easy for either of them. This is also dragging up a lot of weird unresolved stuff from both of them left over from Third Life, and the way that ended for them, which neither of them have dealt with or acknowledged – they might not even realise that’s why they’re so fucked up over it, to be honest, but it’s there. Looming over both of them.
“I made a promise, Mumbo,” whispers Grian, wretchedly, and that– that sounds closer to the truth.
Grian translation: I can’t help loving him. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I tried not to, and I thought I could avoid it, but I can’t, and you need to understand that it’s not my fault. It’s involuntary. It’s out of my hands.
“Move aside, Grian,” says Mumbo, with a sigh. “I’m not going to hurt him.”
Mumbo translation: Can you stop being an idiot for like five minutes oh my god. I still love you, and I’m not angry you love him. I just need some time to process this,and evaluate what this means and how we can make this work.
Grian moves aside. He lets go of Scar’s hand, and Mumbo takes that as the sign of trust that it is.
Scar takes it as abandonment.
Again– Grian knows Mumbo, trusts him, has read into Mumbo’s small gestures throughout the conversation to know that the negotiation is going well, and uses a small gesture to reciprocate that trust.
Scar, however, doesn’t have the context to read that gesture – he’s not privy to the language Mumbo and Grian are speaking, and in fact probably has no idea about the enormous amount of subtext going on here re: relationship negotiations. He’s only reading the surface cues (Grian is anxious, Mumbo has said he’s not angry but done little to prove it, Grian is letting go of him) rather than the actual conversation: Grian is anxious about Mumbo accepting that Grian loves Scar, Mumbo has repeatedly demonstrated that he’s not angry and is willing to be patient and still loves Grian, Grian is reciprocating Mumbo’s extended hand in the face of Grian’s “betrayal”/“bad behaviour” by stepping back to let Mumbo and Scar negotiate on their own terms without his interference but with the assurance that Mumbo won’t hurt him because Mumbo understands how important he is to Grian.
So– Grian sees this as an extremely meaningful gesture, a huge show of trust, something very safe. Scar sees it as “oh god my comfort blanket has just been dragged away from me and a guy who has absolutely no reason not to kill me is approaching me”. Whoops! (What can I say? I love a bit of subtle miscommunication.)
He doesn’t run, doesn’t so much as flinch, but there are suddenly whites all the way round his golden irises. Mumbo can see them, as he approaches, wet and reflective in the dark. They flicker yellow-orange in the torchlight, his pupils blown wide and dark with adrenaline.
When he knocks Scar’s hood back off his head with the brush of a single knuckle, Scar doesn’t flinch, but his eyes are full of fire.
This is just me hammering on the theme of Scar-and-fire-slash-lava as hard as I possibly can, because sometimes you’ve got to be dramatic and poetic and lean in a bit.
The torches cast a strange, dancing light across his new scars. The burns cover the right side of his head, hair gone and replaced by fresh, glossy skin in silver and red all the way up to his temple. The warped tendrils of it reach towards his eye, across to his mouth, down below the neck of his robe. His lip is tugged up at the corner by it, his mouth twisted into a permanent half-smile. His eye seems spared, though – unharmed, like his full left side.
The respawn’s strange like that, sometimes. Capricious, in what it decides to take from you. In what it decides to leave. In the marks it decides you should bear.
I’ve got an ongoing Thing that I’m still working out re: creative mode and respawn and a variety of other game mechanics as… deities, ish, but in a very abstract and intangible and inhuman sense. Kind of a cross between the fae and an eldritch abomination, but without a body and with an even more fucked sense of humour/justice.
Creative mode will just straight up fuck you up, eat you hollow from the inside out, don’t touch that shit with a barge pole unless you’re an admin and even then be careful – but even with the respawn, which is much less… whatever it is that creative mode is, there’s a risk every time you use it, in terms of a price it might decide to take. Especially on a server where death has been made more meaningful than it usually is, because the respawn (like all the other partially-sentient game mechanics) interacts with the meaning placed on the death by the player more than anything about the mechanics of death.
(Some of this comes from the requirement of explaining arbitrary game mechanics, either enforced via mods or by player obedience, when you’re writing “serious” fanfiction – such as why you can sometimes have limited lives, especially in the context of e.g. Dream SMP, where there’s three lives but deaths only sometimes count and there’s not really any good rules about what kind of deaths count. Some of this comes from my old Yogs headcanons where I was playing around with such typical themes for Minecraft roleplay fanfiction as “what makes a god versus a monster” and “what makes a person a person” and “apotheosis as a faustian bargain”, and ended up writing a fic series with creative mode as a secondary antagonist. Some of this comes from the fact that I, unfortunately, as a person, start reading belief systems into absolutely every space I can possibly find, and I am in love with the idea of double-edged swords and being part of something bigger than yourself whether you want to be or not and confronting the fundamentally unknowable and accidentally shaping reality by telling the same story enough times, even when you’re not aware you’re telling a story.)
Mumbo sighs, again, and presses the same kiss to Scar’s temple as he had to Grian’s. Though he’s gentle, steady – even when his lips press against waxy, burnt skin, alien to the touch – Scar flinches as though he’d been struck by lightning.
More micro-gestures! This one’s a demonstration, for Grian, that Mumbo’s accepting Scar – into the Southlands, yes, but also in terms of “I acknowledge he’s important to you and I’m not going to fight that and I’m not going to make you choose, and I will care for him and learn to care for him because he’s important to you and I love you.”
The placing of it on the burnt temple is also important. Mumbo’s correctly identified the burn as a point of Concern for Scar, even if he doesn’t fully understand it, and therefore there’s other layers to the gesture that can be read in – an apology for helping create the trap that killed him, a reassurance that the burn scar doesn’t bother him (an incorrect analysis of what bothers Scar about it, but a reasonable assumption), maybe the slightest edge of a powerplay in the sense of “you will be vulnerable, and I will be kind to you while you’re weak, but remember that if you try anything – especially with Grian – I can hurt you”. But mostly the first two.
“Easy,” murmurs Mumbo, for his ears only. “Easy now.”
And another micro-gesture, this one just for Scar, because now he’s agreed to “adopting” Scar, they need their own language too; need their own space, without Grian’s influence, because you just slapping another person onto the side of an existing dynamic is recipe for disaster. This is a first step towards working out how the two of them dance together, whether Scar realises it or not – and I think he probably doesn’t, because as good as Scar is with manipulating narratives, he’s pretty bad with people/“uncontrolled stories”.
Scar exhales, unsteadily, and dips his head in what might be a nod. “Yeah,” he mutters – twitches again, when Mumbo settles an arm across his shoulder, before leaning ever so slightly into the touch. Something in the motion of it reminds Mumbo of fresh-tamed wolves, eager for affection, fearful of violence, bristling with recently-feral pride. “Okay, okay, I get it. Behave, etcetera etcetera. I’ll play nice. I promise.”
Scar, again, misinterpreting things. Wilfully misinterpreting? A bit. But also the guy genuinely has zero idea that this whole thing is an elaborate relationship negotiation. He’s vaguely aware there’s a layer to the conversation he’s missing, but he assumes that it’s a “hey so Scar can stay, right, and you’re not going to kick me out for stealing a life, right?” which… yes, but it’s also a “and I might be a bit in love with him, but you’re my boyfriend and I love you, but also I don’t think I can stop loving him because I tried and it’s not working, and I don’t know what we do with this”. Which gets answered with a “I still love you, and I’m not angry, and I don’t mind you loving him, and we’ll see if I can learn to love him too”.
(At some point Mumbo’s going to refer to “my boyfriends”, and Scar’s going to be like “wait, who’s the second one”, and Grian is going to lose his shit laughing. Because, oh yeah, whoops, we forgot to tell Scar we’d adopted him as a third.)
(…For bonus comedy points, this happens after they’ve all slept together several times.)
That’s not what Mumbo meant, and he thinks Scar knows it. But he’s done enough pushing for one night. Instead, he opens his other arm, jerks his head in Grian’s direction. “Hey, Grian. What’re you waiting for? Get over here!”
Grian slots under his arm gratefully, easily, like he was made to fit there. It loosens something tight in Mumbo’s chest. “So you’re not going to dob us in to Martyn, then?” he asks, cheekily, a note of genuine worry buried deep enough to be barely audible. “I’ll make it up to him somehow, I promise, I just– I knew he wouldn’t say yes, if I asked, so–”
Weird ways in which Scar and Grian are the same: they’re incapable of just asking people for things. Scar because he doesn’t really have any friends, because he just has no idea how to make them and refuses to be emotionally vulnerable, and therefore would have to go and ask “strangers” which seems very intimidating; Grian because he bleeds emotions everywhere all the time, which hides the fact he does very little actual vulnerability, because he’s a little bit terrified of what might happen to him if he puts his heart on display out of an awareness of how damn tender the thing is, and therefore doesn’t want to ask because oh god what if he gets rejected.
It’s probably why they like each other so much. It’s probably why Mumbo ends up being so soft towards Scar in this, too, despite initially having good reason to be standoffish – reminds him of someone else he’s very fond of.
“Martyn decided that his loyalties lay elsewhere, whilst you were out on your rescue mission,” says Mumbo, with remarkably little bitterness. It’s hard to feel bitter, with Grian pressed warm against one side, Scar pressed fever-hot against the other. “So you’re safe. For now, anyway. You know how he gets about revenge, and all that nonsense.”
Something something the symbolism of Scar and Grian showing up hand in hand and waiting for Mumbo’s judgement, and now Mumbo between them with his arms around both of them.
Also more Scar/fire-related imagery, which is apparently my OTP for this fic.
“Yes,” says Grian, like he’s won something, which is an entirely inappropriate and entirely Grian response. “So Scar can have Martyn’s bedroom, then, is what I’m hearing.”
Look. I love Grian. I love all three of them, and their tenderness, and the subtle little relationship negotiations going on here. But Grian is fundamentally unhinged, especially in Third/Last Life, and refused to have a normal reaction to discovering one of his friends was a traitor. Horrible little goblin.
Mumbo hums, non-committal. “He could,” he says, and thinks of Scar and Grian, hand in white-knuckle hand. “Or we could drag the bed into our room. Sleepover time.”
Mumbo said Okay Maybe Scar Goodtimes Is Hot Actually. Maybe he gets a bit of “sleepover”. To, y’know, help with the trauma.
(Less flippantly, Mumbo’s explicitly acknowledging that there’s some trauma-bonding going on here and that maybe Scar needs a bit of safety and stability to get him through the night. Scar Goodtimes gets to keep his emotional support Grian, as a treat.)
“Oh!” Grian perks up at that, the top of one wing nudging against Mumbo’s elbow. Mumbo doesn’t even need to see them to read the body language written there; they’re traitorous tell-tales, every time, and he knows Grian like the back of his own hand. “Oh, a sleepover. My, my, Mumbo. How forward of you! What do you think, Scar? Are you willing to risk your good name and virtue to have a little Southlands sleepover with me and Mumbo?”
Scar shrugs one shoulder, and says nothing – but, for the first time since he walked through the front gates, that strange new half-smile of his reaches his eyes.
See, Scar genuinely thinks this is just a weird Southlands thing and/or a joke, and that Grian’s being hyperbolic. Grian is uh… not being hyperbolic. (Though possibly not for that very night, given fucking someone recently traumatised whilst they’re still partly in shock is a bad idea and also bad manners.)
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redorich · 3 years
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(Hermit Canyon AU)
Eventually, the Hermit seems to get attached to Puffy. It makes sense- it's been trading gifts with her for months now, and has even shown itself to her a few times, albeit while invisible.
The other SMPers don't think much of it at first. The more curious members ask Puffy questions about The Hermit sometimes, but she knows little, so they quickly give up. Occasionally someone will try to explore the ridiculously trapped town, but they give up once it's obvious they're not getting in.
The trades grow more and more valuable, and one day Puffy opens her barrel to find a beacon, and enough iron to fully power it. She's stunned, naturally. To think the Hermit is so capable it can kill a Wither just to give a beacon away- she can barely believe it.
(In actuality, they cheesed it on the Nether roof, but she doesn't know that)
She does try to hide it, but word gets around, and after another few failed raids on the town (and some rumours that the Hermit can teleport), things settle down again, as much as they can on the SMP.
Then someone steals Puffy's beacon. {You decide who, because I. don't actually watch DSMP, admittedly.}
Puffy, naturally, is devestated- she can't imagine the work the Hermit put into getting it for her in the first place (the most time-consuming thing was getting the Wither skulls, and it wasn't even that bad). But there's not really much she can do, so she carries on.
Except, the next day, the thief wakes up to find their house full of chickens, Puffy's beacon missing, and every single empty space in their chests filled with strategically renamed light grey stained glass panes.
They go outside to find the entire contents of a cave spider spawner on their front lawn. Alongside a ravager. With speed potions. Renamed Pamela's Revenge.
(Cue half the SMP trying to find out who Pamela is)
Puffy, meanwhile, wakes to find her beacon back in its rightful place, and a beautifully terraformed garden outside her house (Scar accidentally detonated a creeper and naturally had to fix the hole...and then went a little overboard. But it's fine.)
op i want you to know that i considered just posting your ask, because it’s already So Good and practically a fic on its own, but i really wanted even more content so i wrote it myself. ANYWAY here’s sapnap’s terrible horrible no good very bad day xD
It’s risky, doing anything on the wide open Nether roof where anyone can see. Hell, using a beacon at all is risky for the Hermits. Still, they’ve got all sorts of farms and copious amounts of materials at their fingertips. They’re past early game, stuck in mid-game while they wait for Etho to scope out more locations, while they build the second Upside Down (which Grian has named the Upside-ier Down), while they build their joint bases miles out from civilization. 
Having a beacon would make the process faster, they reason to themselves. They certainly aren’t risking being discovered just because they’re bored and getting a beacon is an excuse to do something. And hell, Tango made that giant, super-efficient wither skeleton skull farm right next to his double blaze spawner farm, so they might as well mass-produce Nether stars by killing multiple Withers. It’s not that difficult.
On another note, it’s after they gift Puffy one of their many beacons, in addition to a kit of iron blocks for powering the beacon that the Hermits realize that while their gifts are increasing in expense, Puffy’s are... not. So, if Puffy’s around average in the Dream SMP economy, they’ve figured out where most players meet their limit. She hasn’t stopped dropping by, though, which is nice. Her gifts become increasingly handmade, in lieu of upping the ante on material wealth. The Hermits suppose that hand-crafted items have a value that extends past money. Each and every one of them has something that she’s made for them, whether it be a shawl, a blanket, a set of earrings, a bracelet, or a pair of socks.
Apparently the beacon is more of a Big Deal than the Hermits thought. After all, the rainbow castle has several. However, the Hermits realize that they’ve been shortsighted. While it is true that the rainbow castle has several beacons, the castle is the only place that they’ve seen any beacons.
Sapnap steals the beacon. He doesn’t particularly need it, but he wants it, and stealing is fun. Maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll even start another minor war over it. He hasn’t fought Puffy very much. He wonders if she can put up a good fight.
Puffy’s-- not distraught, but she’s upset. That was a gift from the Hermit, a friend who she’s been pulling out of its shell. She doesn’t have much use for a beacon, but then again, neither does Sapnap; he’s just a dick. Just in case, Puffy leaves a note with the rest of the items she leaves in her barrel:
Dear Hermit,
I’m very sorry for losing the beacon you gave me. I made the mistake of keeping it in a normal chest instead of an Ender chest, so Sapnap stole it. I should have seen that coming. I’ll try to get it back, but if I don’t, please know that I didn’t throw it away.
Thank you,
Puffy.
Sapnap wakes up in the middle of a lake. His mattress is floating, and when he tries to paddle back to shore (once he’s done screaming), the mattress tips over and he receives an unpleasant fishy wakeup call. He trudges into his house for a shower, and finds that the showerhead, as well as all his faucets, have been stuffed with ramen noodle seasoning. 
He looks in his chests for a bucket of water. The first chest he checks is not only full of light gray glass, but also trapped. When he opens it, pufferfish fall out of the ceiling and bounce around. He dies to their poison twice before they finally die. The next chest he opens also has light gray glass, no water buckets, and a trap. This one, though, only releases a metric fuckton of chickens into his house. It’s fine. This is fine.
As he looks through his chests, he realizes something. They’ve got glass in them, sure, and they’ve been raided of water buckets, but... the beacon is gone. None of his other items, like enchanted netherite tools or literal diamond blocks, have been stolen. Just Puffy’s beacon.
Whoever pranked him missed a bucket, so he promptly dumps it over his head in an effort to smell less like pond scum and spicy chicken noodles. It takes the whole day to get his base back in order: he’s got to clean out all the faucets, empty all the glass from his chests, throw out all the dead pufferfish, and slaughter chickens by the dozens.
He can’t sleep. Are you fucking kidding. He can’t sleep. A soft hiss catches his attention, only audible now that the quiet of night has fallen. Is there somehow an unlit cave under his base?
Nope. As he steps outside onto his front lawn, he sees a daylight detector near the door that he missed when he came inside this morning. The daylight detector seems to have released approximately fifteen bajillion cave spiders onto his lawn, and they’re all angry, so he shuts the front door in their faces and goes back inside. That’s a problem for tomorrow’s him.
Horns spear the wall right next to where Sapnap was standing five seconds ago. He yelps. What the fuck is a ravager doing on his front porch? And why the FUCK does it have speed potion particles?!
<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>
<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>
<Sapnap hit the ground too hard whilst trying to escape Pamela’s Revenge>
<Sapnap was slain by Cave Spider>
<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>
<Georgenotfound> who is pamela’s revenge
<Sapnap> ;RVAER
<Sapnap> HELP
<Sapnap> RAVEAGER
<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>
<Georgenotfound> good night sapnap :)
<Sapnap> GEORGE OYU BITCH HLEP ME
<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>
<Georgenotfound> zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
-------
Puffy sees a whole lot of nonsense in the chat when she wakes up in the morning, and promptly decides to ignore it. She goes about her morning as usual, heading out to her front porch to sip a cup of coffee in peace. 
She... has a garden now. Hm. That wasn’t there before. And come to think of it, neither was the beacon she lost.
“Thanks, Hermit,” she says with a smile.
-------
Stress sips a cup of tea, having breakfast in Grian’s rustic sitting room with a few of her fellow Hermits.
“D’ya think we went overboard?” she says.
“...Nah,” Cub says.
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thespoonisvictory · 3 years
Text
*warning for dream critical, and pointless rambling about point systems and the nature off mcc. I am not an expert, nor do I think dream should be sent any hate, or that he even really deserves actual criticism for it*
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sooo dream posted this on his reddit, as I’m sure you’ve heard. here are my thoughts, because I have a lot to say.
first of all, the fact that dream doesn’t list any pvp games as his strengths is laughable. he’s undeniably a god at both sb and sg, and yet these aren’t strengths for him? he really thinks he’s better at hitw than skybattle? but obviously, if he lists those, he can’t say the point system is against him. but anyway. the tournament isn’t making him play worse, he’s playing worse, and pinning it on the tournament in general is silly.
I don’t think he’s trying to say that mcc is like rigged against him, nor is this particularly hateful, but it comes across as very entitled and oblivious to the reason why mcc exists, which I’ll get into.
Sands of Time: this is a great idea! until you... actually think about it. vaults in particular don’t work, because how can you argue that splitting vaults is more fair when usually one person finds the key and one person finds the vault itself. what about people who spend more time on puzzles or combat to unlock other areas instead of getting coins? what about sand that other people have collected that shouldn’t ‘belong’ to the sand keeper? do they deserve points for that? it’s messy at best, and keeping the points grouped and then split is the simplest and most effective way to keep it fair.
but beyond that, sot is a team game. you’re meant to work with your teammates to most effectively explore the vault, and although individual performance matters, team communication and strategy is much more important, and it’s reflected in the scores.
Parkour Tag: I’m going to trust dream’s word on this one, as many other people such as op have corroborated it. points should be fixed to better reflect the hunter’s skills.
HITW: uhhh, you get a big bonus because you survived the hardest walls my guy. it’s like getting win points for sg, you get it because you were the best, and because you effectively beat the game. also, I hate to say it but if you’re never getting to the end in hitw then you’re not that good lmao
Parkour Warrior: I don’t think he’s blaming mcc for this, or even saying it should be brought back, but like, pw was removed for a reason. the over-practicing done by some competitors forced the difficulty to be raised so far above the average person that parkour was now a miserable experience for 80% of competitors and their viewers. people weren’t having fun, and it wasn’t an engaging game if you weren’t great at it, so it got knocked. it was for the good of the tournament and the players, not to hurt dream’s ego.
TGTTOS: now this is where it gets batshit. ok, first of all, dream suggests that it’s almost impossible to use teamwork, something disproved by watching literally any perspective where teammates guide each other through the map, give tips, and shout out which directions to go. hell, group bridging has proved very effective. then, he suggests that the team bonus is bad because it gives more points to good teams... and this is a bad thing.
the team bonus is such a wonderful implement because it encourages teams where everyone contributes equally. unlike stuff like hitw, where one good player can carry a team to 1st, tgttos team bonuses mean that the strongest overall team usually wins, not the one with the strongest individual player. which is good! because this is a team tournament!
Overall: besides the impracticality of resorting the entire points system to cater to his ‘strengths’, the issue with this mindset. mcc isn’t about individual points, it’s about how you do as a team. the top two players don’t face off in dodgebolt, afterall. having shared points and team benefit encourages that the winning team is one where every player contributes and works together, instead of a few players individually being skilled. but this isn’t that for dream, and I think that’s blatantly clear. I understand that he wants to show his skill, but mcc is a tournament started by scott as a way to play with his friends for fun. It’s about meeting new people and networking and sometimes making money for charity, not a try-hard competition.
and if he wants to take it competitively, that’s fine, but other people try as well, and yet no one else is complaining.
techno didn’t complain when they changed game rules like five times to nerf him, he just adapted.
players who perform roles like woolplacer in bb don’t complain about the loss of points, they just do their job.
the hermits, especially grian, certainly haven’t played this season, despite having two of their strongest games removed from circulation (bingo and rocket spleef).
other than parkour warrior complaints raised as a community, I can’t think of anyone else that has demanded a change in points to better suit them. It comes off as incredibly egotistical to believe that can tell mcc how their tournament should be run, and that it should cater to the small percentage of people who want to take it that competitively. above all, it comes off as naive to what mcc is actually about, even if he didn’t intend for this to sound as off as it did to me. 
tldr: dream pls calm down and stop trying to make a for fun tournament your place to show off, it’s for fun.
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arts-and-drafts · 2 years
Text
Collision Au
I don’t have a working title for this but this is the official beginning of the collision au I hope you like it!
-
It wasn’t the sunrise that woke Tommy up that morning, nor was it the sound of an impossibly enthusiastic Tubbo telling him that breakfast is ready (because really, how the fuck is someone that happy at the start of their day? It’s absolutely fucking insane), it wasn’t even the brand-new alarm clock that hung over his bed. Instead, it was the sound of an early morning screaming match between the recently completely-turned-bonkers Wilbur and whoever he decided to fuck with today.
“What the fuck, Techno? We’re at WAR! You’re supposed to be getting weapons and armour, not wasting all of your time with your goddamn potatoes! I thought you were here to help me!” The high pitched screeching was absolutely unbearable as it bounced off cave walls and reverberated in the air with the sole purpose of giving Tommy a migraine. Tommy rubbed at his templed futilely in an attempt to stave off the incoming ache in his skull. Same shit different day in the fucking paradise of Pogtopia.
And then the world staggered.
Really there was no way to describe it, it was just like the tectonic plates under Tommy’s feet just decided to go for a fucking stroll. Tommy’s chin almost slammed into the bedside stand with how badly he stumbled. And then it kept going. The world swimming like a bunch of potatoes in the world’s shittiest stew. Somehow, Tommy managed to get his feet to work together long enough to carry him into the main corridor running through Pogtopia, where Wilbur and Techno were similarly clung to walls in an attempt to remain tethered to the ground. And when it abruptly stopped just as quickly as it had started, there was a loud boom that shook the walls and masked any reflexive vomiting that may or may not have happened as the three boys fell on the floor again.
“What the… fuck was that,” Tommy mumbled out of breath as he tried to keep whatever he ate last night firmly in his stomach where it belonged.
“Hell if I know,” Wilbur admitted, cradling his head in his knees, quite clearly in the same situation as Tommy, “I just hope it didn’t set off my TnT,” Wilbur frowned and Tommy’s blood turned to ice. Tubbo. Tubbo was still in L’manburg. Tubbo was still in the middle of fucking L’manburg. If that was the TnT then there was no way—
“It wasn’t the TnT, we would have heard multiple explosions, there was only one, and we wouldn’t have been able to hear one TnT from this distance,” Techno dismissed the concern immediately, his ears pricked up to gather as much information as possible. Tommy could physically feel the stone in his stomach dissolving as the smooth logical tone washed over him with a sense of relief.
“We should check to see what the fuck just happened,” Tommy used the wall as support to drag himself to his feet, swaying and stumbling slightly. Techno nodded approvingly, taking a deep breath and standing in one fluid motion. Fucking showoff. Wilbur appeared to debate it mentally while looking at Tommy and Techno.
“Sure, let’s go,” Wilbur decided, accepting a hand from Techno before being yanked up to his feet quicker than he had expected. And so the moon sets behind the trio of brothers as they make their way up the ravine.
* * * * *
“Grian? Grian, I need your help please, I woke up and Jellie was missing, can you help me find her?” Grian shot up from his position next to his chest monster with a start, scanning around frantically before spotting Scar in his traditional wizard’s garb and calming down.
“Sure thing, at least Jellie’s not gonna consume me whole like this will,” Grian half-heartedly gestured to the chests upon chests sitting on the grass lawn outside the G-Mansion. Scar’s face broke out into a relieved smile hearing Grian’s response.
“Thank you so much, Grian,” and I know it’s super late, so I’ll make sure to repay you with some nice diamond blocks,” Scar’s appreciation was plain on his face as he flashed Grian a thankful smile and offered him a hand up..
“No, no, I can’t accept your diamonds, Scar, I’d do the same thing for any hermit in need, and you’d do the same in a heartbeat, really, it’s no big deal—” and then Grian was interrupted by the literal earth coming undone and surging beneath their feet. Grian fell flat on his back, squishing his feathers and, judging by the thud and sound of air rushing from Scar’s lungs, it seems he’s in the same predicament. Finally, the pulsations seemed to subside and Grian shuffled to his feet only to, again, fall tail over teakettle back down to . The vwoop of an End-fruit sounded and Jellie’s insistent meows filled the air.
“Well, at least we found Jellie, but what in the world was that?” Scar asked weakly, running his fingers through Jellie’s fur.
“I dunno, but I wanna check it out,” Grian’s eyes lit up and rockets appeared in his hand as his elytra wings fluttered and twitched with anticipation, leading Grian to take off into the sky.
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Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 6
George didn’t mind this Hermitcraft place too much. The people here were nice, even if he had only met two of them. X, their admin, had even offered to let George stay in what he was calling his starter base, though it was bigger than most houses on the Dream SMP. 
X was working tirelessly trying to figure out what was wrong with the server. Sometimes he would ask George to help him, or ask George questions but at this point it felt like they had tried everything already and George had been asked the same questions over and over again. 
There wasn’t much to do, the one time he had tried to explore, he got dreadfully lost and wandered around in circles for hours before X found him again. He didn’t want to build anything, he wasn’t planning on staying here. So mostly he just entertained himself by borrowing whatever he could find in X’s chests. There were these cool fish-cat things here called axolotls. He had become very attached to this yellow axolotl that he named Dream. Ok so maybe he did miss Dream... but that wasn’t anything new. 
X was taking a break and working on a tower for his nether portal and George was playing with Axolotl Dream in the shallows when several other Hermits showed up, and wait, was that Skeppy? What was Skeppy doing here? George scooped the axolotl up in a bucket and climbed up the rocky bank, not bothering to put on his shoes and his pants still rolled up to his knees. 
Skeppy stopped and pointed at George “You too!?” 
“What are you doing here?” George said holding the bucket with the axolotl in it carefully in both hands.
Skeppy just shrugged “Who knows.”
“Same,” George sighed.  
“Wait, there are two of you!?” the Hermit with wings and a red sweater practically squeaked. He looked a bit ruffled. “This is bad, this is bad,” He muttered as he started pacing.
“Um hi, I'm Scar and this anxious mess is Grian,” The other hermit introduced them. “He usually isn’t like this I promise.” 
“You don’t understand, this is bad!” Grian interjected.
“Um... I’m George,” George introduced himself, still not moving from where he stood.
X came down from his tower wiping his hands off on a rag and looking at the gathering group. “What’s going on? What seems to be the problem?” He asked. Then he saw Skeppy “Oh... we have another one... well maybe it isn’t that bad. I’m sure I’ll find a solution soon.” 
“No, no, no, you don’t understand. I think I broke the Server...” Grian interjected, “I may have... um- Well, you know, Watcher stuff-”
“Take your time, don’t worry about dumbing it down for me, I’m sure I can keep up,” X said, returning the rag to his inventory. 
“Well, I wanted to get into the Dream SMP. There is another Watcher who lives there. The only one aside from me that I know of who was able to escape the Organization. I needed to find him. But the Dream SMP is notoriously hard to get into, even for Watchers. So I used the Hermitcraft Server restart to give me a boost and get me through... I wasn’t able to find him before my window closed, I barely made it back as it was... But I think I may have inadvertently damaged the server. I think the two servers are leaking into each other.” 
X pressed his knuckle to his chin. “Well that would explain a few things, George showed up several days ago. The server thinks he is Etho and Etho is nowhere to be found.” He looked up at Skeppy, “I'm sorry, I’ve been rude, I’m Xisuma Void, this Server's Admin, I’ll do everything I can to fix this mess,” He said, reaching a hand out to Skeppy.
Skeppy squinted at X for a moment before taking the offered hand and shaking it “Skeppy,” He said as a means of introduction. He wasn’t sure if he believed him when he said he would do everything in his power to fix things but what other option did he have.
“Nice to meet you, Skeppy. If you don’t mind I would like to try some tests to figure out who the server thinks you are,” X explained.
Skeppy recoiled and screwed up his face, “Hell no, I’m not something to be kept in a cage and experimented on” He had never really trusted Dream and after he heard about what Dream had planned to do to him if Dream hadn’t been locked up in the Prison he knew he had been right not to trust him. This admin wasn’t any different, he just saw him as an anomaly to study. 
“Oh no, It’s nothing like that,” Xisuma quickly corrected, shaking his head and waving his hands as if to undo any misunderstanding. “I was just going to try and private message a bunch of hermits and see if any of their messages showed up in your inbox. 
Skeppy pursed his lips and squinted at X for a minute before relenting “Fine, I guess I’m ok with that.”
X proceeded to send a quick message that read ‘just ignore this, i am testing server stuff,’ to as many hermits as he could think of. He was almost at the bottom of the list when a whistle was heard from Skeppy’s phone. He picked it up and saw the message staring back at him. 
“It worked! So who does the server think he is?” George asked, looking around X’s shoulder at his HUD, still holding the axolotl. 
“TFC,” X said, looking up at Grian and Scar.
“That makes sense,” Scar said, “He showed up near Boatem and TFC’s base is just over the mountain from us.” 
“That’s all well and good but how do we fix this?” Grian interjected. 
“Well, I wanted to figure out what was wrong with the server and possibly why it thought George was Etho and now Skeppy and TFC too, but under the circumstances it might be best to send you two back now and we can work on getting our people back on our own. We have already inconvenienced you two enough as it is.”
Grian shook his head “We already tried that, Skeppy was rejected,” 
“Of course he was rejected, he didn’t have admin permissions,” George scoffed.
“Wait so you are saying that you need permission from your admin to leave your own server?” Scar asked. 
“Yeah, he didn’t usually give them though. I think I only left once after joining the server and that was to go with Dream to watch him compete against Technoblade,” George shrugged, finally putting the bucket down and sitting next to it, it was getting kind of heavy.
“Oh right, I think I remember hearing about that Deul. Didn’t Technoblade win?” Grian added. George pretended not to notice. 
“But this still doesn't make sense,” Xisuma mused “The Dream SMP server might not let it’s members leave but that has never been the case on Hermitcraft. And if the Server thinks they are hermits they should be allowed to leave... unless... if they are here then our hermits are Probably on the Dream SMP Server, perhaps if the Servers think they are someone else then they aren't letting them in.”
“But the error message specifically said they didn’t have permission to leave, not that they didn’t have permission to enter,” Grian pointed out. 
“Hum, true. Scar do you mind testing something for us. Can you try and leave the server and come back.” X asked
“Sure thing, where should I go,”
“Anywhere should be fine, a public server or a personal one. It shouldn’t matter,” 
“Ok, here goes,” Scar said, opening his HUD and pressing some buttons. He flickered for a second, going translucent and then returning to full opacity. His HUD read the same message that the others had “You do not have permissions to leave this server.”
“Well that’s not good,” Scar muttered.
Xisuma moved to look over Scar’s shoulder. “Well that complicates things. Grian, do you think you might be able to go back to the Dream SMP server if you had some help.”
“I mean, maybe, it was pretty sketchy the first time I did it, and that was before we were having problems on our end. I’ll do what I can though.”
“That’s all I can ask for,” X reassured.  
“Well for now Skeppy can stay with us in Boatem, and George you are free to join us if you want,” Scar said.  
“Beats hanging around here by myself,” George shrugged.
“Alright, with that settled, I think we're done here. Grian, can I see you here tomorrow so we can get started on fixing this server glitch-”
“Well it’s more of a crack than-” Grian started 
“Alright, crack then, are you free tomorrow,” X interrupted. 
Grian looked sheepish “Yeah, yeah, of course. See you then,”  
[Notes: Here you go, I hope you enjoyed. Things are really starting to pick up pace and I am looking forward to where this is going. I really got in the groove with this and just sat down and wrote out several parts at once so those will be coming out every couple of days. I still need to edit them and I don’t want to overwhelm you guys with too much at once.] 
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Hi there!
I finally have an idea for the sequel to the angst! By the way, it really did help. Less strong emotions :D
Anyways, idea. Woot woot-
Wels, as a kind of revenge for the death of Hels, wants to save some other helsmits from the world that is Hels. Because it sucks there. He ends up secluding himself from the server to try this. When somebody goes to check on him, they find an obsidian portal frame with a firey red portal contained within. Queue Wels and another Helsmit conveniently coming through, and Wels having to quickly explain before the Hermit tells X-
this is a long boi!!! lol
first part here
...
This is it. This is the moment Wels has been waiting for. After weeks of hiding out in his house, doing experiment after experiment, he’s finally managed to create a portal directly to Helscraft. Now he can finally start on his mission.
He steps through the portal and finds himself facing a bridge across a gigantic ravine with lava at the bottom. On the other side is a mountain made of netherrack and magma blocks, some of which are on fire.
Shivering, he crosses the bridge slowly, one step at a time, keeping a wary eye out for any helsmits around. There doesn’t seem to be any.
Until he steps off the bridge, glances up, and happens to spot a familiar person sitting in a “tree” made of soul sand and bone blocks. Familiar except red eyes, red streaks in his hair, a much shorter stature, and black-and-magenta dragon-like wings.
“Hi,” he says cautiously.
“Helsknight…?” The person narrows their eyes. “Why do you look different?”
“I’m not Helsknight, I’m his hermit counterpart.”
The helsmit blinks in surprise. “Welsknight? What are you doing here in Helscraft?”
“Are you Grian’s helsmit?” asks Wels, avoiding the question.
“...surely you can tell,” the helsmit scoffs. “Yeah, I’m Xelqua, Grian’s helsmit. Why’re you here? Where’s Helsknight?”
Again, Wels tries to avoid the question. “Were you… close to Helsknight?”
“Not really.” Xelqua again narrows his eyes. “What do you mean by that? Where IS he?”
“He’s…” Wels hesitates and bows his head. “I’m really sorry, but he… he passed away.”
He hears a sharp intake of breath from Xelqua.
“I’m sorry,” he says uselessly.
“Why are you here?”
Wels looks back up at Xelqua. “What?”
“WHY ARE YOU HERE?” demands Xelqua loudly. “What, is it not enough that we exist here in this HELLISH place?! You wanna come here and take it over too?! Drive us out AGAIN?!”
“I- No!” Wels hurriedly shakes his head. “No no no! I came here to invite you back to Hermitcraft.”
A flash of shock flickers over Xelqua’s face. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because Helsknight wanted all of you to be free. He sacrificed himself for me, so I’m carrying on his dream.” Wels offers his hand to the helsmit. “Xelqua, come with me to Hermitcraft. I can get you a better life there.”
“Wow.” Xelqua appears not to know how to react to this unexpected offer. “What do you get in return?”
“Nothing.”
Xelqua rolls his eyes. “SURE.”
“No, really,” Wels insists. “I want to help you, all of you. I’m not asking for anything in return. I just want you guys to have a better life.”
Xelqua regards Wels with a half-suspicious look. “Why me, of all the helsmits?”
“I want to save all of you at some point. You seem like a good place to start.”
The helsmit doesn’t appear to have a response to this.
“Please, Xelqua,” says Wels softly. “Give me a chance.”
Xelqua is silent for a while as he processes this in his head. Finally, he says, “Okay. I won’t turn down a chance to go to Hermitcraft.”
Wels can’t help an excited smile. “Great! You won’t regret it.”
When Xelqua hops down from the “tree”, Wels is surprised to discover that the helsmit is only just half his height. The height of a child, despite looking almost exactly like Grian.
“Okay, come this way,” he says.
He leads Xelqua back down the bridge and over to the portal. “Will you be able to come through?” he asks.
“I dunno, you’re the brainiac hermit,” Xelqua responds. “Will I die if I go through?”
“Not inherently, but…”
Xelqua shrugs. “Whatever. Death is better than another day in Helscraft anyway. YOLO.”
Wels blinks as Xelqua steps through the portal. Did he just say… YOLO?!
He hurriedly follows Xelqua. As soon as he steps foot in his house on the other side, however, he sees Xelqua frozen on the platform. When he steps forward, he sees why.
One of his friends is standing at the bottom of the staircase, staring at him in shock and horror.
Wels blinks, his heart starting to pound. “...J-Jevin. Hi. You’re in my house.”
“Of course I’m in your dang house, Wels!” snaps Jevin. “You haven’t been seen on the server for WEEKS! And now you come out of a demonic nether portal with a DEMON?!”
Wels quickly pushes Xelqua behind him. “He’s not a demon, Jev. His name is Xelqua. He’s Grian’s helsmit.”
Jevin’s eyes widen and he steps back.
Wels sees his friend’s muscles bunching. “Jev, no…!”
Jevin takes another step back.
“JEV.”
“Somehow a demon would have been BETTER!” yells Jevin, before taking off running.
Wels sprints after him. He’s a lot faster than Jevin so he’s able to tackle his friend to the ground at the top of the stairs.
“Jev, wait!” Wels grunts, trying to hold his squirming friend down. “Hear me out!”
“Are you INSANE?!” Jevin shrieks back. “WHY would you bring a helsmit here?!”
As Wels is about to respond, a dry voice comes from behind them. “Now I know why you said you wanted to avoid this guy, Wels.”
Wels twists his head upwards to find Xelqua standing over them, arms folded. “I didn’t say-.”
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” demands Jevin, disentangling himself from Wels.
The hint of a smirk is visible on Xelqua’s face. “He said you were pretty close-minded and quick to jump to conclusions.”
“I never said-!”
Wels is cut off as Jevin jumps to his feet and jabs his finger at Xelqua. “You shut your mouth. You’re not even supposed to be here!”
“I’m not the one judging someone I just met based on their nature of birth, Slime Face,” retorts Xelqua.
“If you call me that again, I’m gonna ram my fist in your eye,” Jevin growls.
Xelqua lifts his chin challengingly. “Go for it. I’m not afraid to fight an old man.”
As Jevin moves suddenly, Wels gets between them and holds his friend back. “Okay, STOP it! Both of you! Jev, be the bigger person here.”
“I AM the bigger person!” Jevin snaps back. “Literally!”
“Wow, a short joke,” Xelqua says expressionlessly. “Original. You proud of that one, Slime Face? You feel funny? Clever?”
Jevin’s hands curl into fists. “Wels, you better explain yourself before I punt this obnoxious kid straight into the goddamn sun.”
“Your stupid slimey foot would go right through me,” Xelqua responds immediately.
“Right, that’s it.”
Wels has to strain against Jevin to stop his friend from physically attacking Xelqua. “JEVIN. STOP.”
“Explain yourself, then!”
Wels quickly draws Jevin aside into the next room. “Look.” He takes a deep breath. “I spent months befriending my helsmit, learning about how he dreamt of freeing his siblings from their torturous existence, only for him to die before even being able to start on his dream. Helsmits aren’t inherently evil, Jev. Helsknight grew as a person right in front of me. With the right environment and people surrounding them, they can become good.”
He pauses, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Even if I can only change one helsmit’s life for the better then maybe Helsknight’s death didn’t have to be meaningless.”
Jevin gazes back at him, an odd expression on his face.
“Just…” Wels sighs quietly. “Please don’t tell Xisuma until I’m ready. If he finds out about this before Xelqua makes any noticeable improvements, he’ll have him thrown back to Helscraft and all this will be for nothing. Helsknight’s dream can’t die like that. I can’t… I can’t lose him all over again.”
A short pause follows his words.
Finally, Jevin unfolds his arms and says, “Okay. How can I help?”
“By not treating me like a stupid kid,” comes Xelqua’s voice.
Jevin turns to find the helsmit poking his head through the doorway. “Wasn’t talking to you, Parrot Boy.”
“I’m not a parrot,” Xelqua says. “I’m a dragon.”
“Sure.”
Scowling, Xelqua extends his jet black and magenta wings. “My wings are dragon wings.”
“Whatever you say, Parrot Boy.”
Xelqua glares at him and doesn’t respond.
Jevin raises an eyebrow. “Nicknames hurt, huh?”
“Jev,” sighs Wels. “You’re the adult here.”
“Why AM I the adult here?” Jevin demands. “If he’s Grian’s helsmit, why is he still a kid?”
Xelqua stomps his foot. “I’m not a kid!”
Ignoring him, Wels replies, “Helsmits are only born once a person becomes a hermit. Grian’s only been a hermit for a few years, so Xelqua hasn’t had a chance to grow up yet.”
“Hey, I’m PERFECTLY grown up!” snaps Xelqua. “I already know how to kill things without spilling much blood and how to steal stuff from a chest from right under someone’s nose.”
Wels and Jevin exchange a slightly concerned look.
“But you never had a normal childhood?” asks Jevin.
“I’M NOT A CHILD!” yells Xelqua angrily.
Jevin persists: “Have you ever even seen grass?”
Xelqua scowls. “...what’s grass?”
“Okay…” Jevin pauses for a moment. “Come up this way.”
As he goes to the door, Wels starts to speak: “Jev-.”
“I’ll be careful,” says Jevin reassuringly. “Come on, kid.”
Clearly deciding not to argue anymore, Xelqua follows Jevin out of the house. As soon as he gets outside, he glances up and immediately jumps almost a foot in the air. “What is that?!”
Jevin quickly identifies where he’s looking. “The sun.”
“That’s not the sun,” scoffs Xelqua.
“It is.”
Xelqua shields his eyes from the sunlight and squints up at the sky. “But it’s not hurting my skin.”
“It will if you stay out in it too long.” Jevin pauses. “Why, what’s your sun like?”
“Volatile,” Xelqua responds. “If it’s in a bad mood, it’ll set you on fire as soon as you step out in it. Which is almost every day.”
Jevin blinks. “Your sun is sentient?”
“Trust me, that’s not the weirdest thing that’s sentient in Helscraft.”
“Do I wanna ask?”
“Nope.” Xelqua lowers his hand. “So what’s this grass thing you mentioned?”
Jevin gestures at the ground. “What you’re standing on.”
“Really? This is grass?” Xelqua hops up and down on it a few times. “I thought it’d be a bit more interesting.”
“Lie down on it.”
Xelqua shoots him a suspicious look. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
After a moment, Xelqua lies down flat on the grass. “Okay, now what?”
“Look up at the sky,” Jevin responds. “See those clouds?”
Xelqua frowns up at the sky. “The grey things?”
“Yeah. Do you have clouds?”
“Not like those. Ours are spikey and red and rain lava.”
“Oh jeez…” Jevin shivers. “Well, these ones won’t hurt you. Just watch them for a while.”
“Okay…”
The two fall silent. Jevin watches the clouds himself for a while, before turning back to Xelqua, whose expression is almost completely blank. “So?”
“Weirdly, this is nice,” admits Xelqua. “It’s a bizarre concept to not be afraid of every single thing around me.” As if on cue, a few raindrops start to fall from the sky. Xelqua hops up as the rain gets heavier and dives between Jevin’s feet, clutching Jevin’s leg tightly. “WHAT IS THIS?!” he shrieks.
“It’s just rain!” Jevin reassures him, gently stroking his wings. “Don’t worry, it’s just rain. Just water. It won’t hurt you.”
After a moment, Xelqua sticks out his hand and lets some raindrops fall on it. When it doesn’t hurt him, he carefully emerges from his shelter and hovers just above the ground, closing his eyes against the rain falling on his face. A smile appears on his face and he shoots upwards, his beating wings scattering raindrops everywhere.
Shielding his eyes from the rain, Jevin laughs as he watches Xelqua shoot up through the clouds and dive back down several times. It’s like watching a foal discover how to run for the first time.
“How’s it going out here?” asks Wels, emerging from the building. Immediately, he lifts his arms to shield his head from the rain. “Oh! It doesn’t rain often on this server.”
Jevin continues to gaze up at Xelqua far above him. “...Wels?”
“Yeah?”
“This kid really needs a better life.”
Wels nods. “He does. They all do. This is what Helsknight wanted: for the helsmits to have the same opportunities as us. The same expansive resource-rich world to explore, not the barren hellscape they’re forced to live in year after year. To be able to live and grow without worrying about being robbed or hurt or attacked or murdered by the world and people around them. They have so much potential that’s not being realised because they’re stuck in literal hell. I won’t rest until they’re all as free as Helsknight almost was.”
After a brief pause, he glances over at Jevin and finds his friend smiling at him. He chuckles. “What’s that look for?”
“I’ve never seen you this passionate before,” says Jevin softly. “It’s nice.”
“It IS nice,” Wels agrees. “I haven’t had a cause like this to fight for in a long time.”
Jevin pats his friend on the shoulder. “If you ever need help with Xelqua, lemme know.”
Wels glances at him in surprise. “You want to help with Xelqua?”
“Yeah, I really do.”
“Why?”
As Jevin starts to respond, Xelqua suddenly lands on the ground in front of them, soaking wet. “What are you two nattering about?” he demands. “Come fly up here with me!”
“We can’t fly when it’s raining this heavily, Xelqua,” responds Wels. “It’s too wet for our elytras to work properly.”
“Oh.” Xelqua rolls his eyes. “You guys are lame.”
Wels raises an eyebrow back. “Mhm.”
As Xelqua takes off again, Jevin says, “To answer your question Wels, I want to help because I can tell Xelqua has the potential to be a good kid. He’s got some problems I wanna help iron out.”
“Wow, I…” Wels smiles gratefully. “I’d love the help. Thank you.”
At that moment, Xelqua reappears through the rain and holds out a shovel to the two. “I stole this from a chest in that guy’s house over there,” he says proudly. “He didn’t see me.”
“That’d be Beef’s house,” Wels sighs.
As Wels reaches for the shovel, Xelqua sharply steps back, hugging the shovel protectively.
Wels shakes his head. “You don’t have to steal things here, Xelqua. We’ll help you get your own stuff.”
“Oh…” Xelqua reluctantly relinquishes his prize to Wels.
“Thank you,” says Wels gently. “Do you want your own shovel?”
After a moment, Xelqua nods.
Wels smiles, feeling strong paternal instincts towards the kid.
“Okay, let’s get you a shovel.”
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lunarblazes · 3 years
Text
i made a desertduo playlist and then decided to be a nerd and write explanations for all the songs! like a nerd!
playlist link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ZGylutQpyTbgX7MY7Lrzz?si=t8_kBwBHSYG5kxTvZoIrTQ&dl_branch=1
QUICK DISCLAIMER: i am aware that a lot of these songs may have or imply romantic connotation! i would really really like it if these were not read as though those romantic connotations carry over to scar and grian. even if we’re just talking about the third life characters, i would prefer not to ship them or imply romance between them on this post. thank you so much and keep reading if you’d like to see the playlist analysis!
and now that that’s out of the way, PLAYLIST TIME!
passerine- the oh hellos
“you were the song that i’d always sing/you were the light that the fire would bring/but i can’t shake this feeling that i/was only pushing the spear into your side again”
this song really just... firstly, it’s one of my favorite songs, and the line i chose there pushes home the sort of terrified devotion i think the desert has. plus there’s a fun line about the cold wind blowing in from the north in the ending bits that i think very much fits their conflict with the red army, and a lot of legally obligated flight imagery that i need to have in every possible song because i’m a fuckin nerd.
no children- the mountain goats
“i hope that our few remaining friends/give up on trying to save us/i hope we come up with a failsafe plot to piss off the dumb few that forgave us”
i will admit that no children isn’t a perfect fit, but the general vibe of sort of defiant pessimism and betrayal fits very well with them! it’s very triumphant in its death, and i think that is very desertcore, because what’s more triumphantly dead than being the last duo left alive?
skulls- bastille
“when all of our friends are dead and just a memory/it’s always been just you and me/for all to see”
okay like this entire song is SO MUCH DESERT VIBES? LIKE SO MUCH. if i were to ever make an animatic for them i’d do it with this song. “a match is our only light, it’s day of the dead i’m indiana jones, yeah,” “i hope you can make me laugh six feet under when we’re bored of each other,” “i don’t want to rest in peace, i’d rather be the ghost that annoys you,” IT JUST KEEPS GOING. i think this song would work well with any third life duo, honestly, but these two in PARTICULAR just because of how it ended with them literally ‘buried’ next to each other, and again, the chaotic death vibes.
freaking out- mystery skulls
“i just keep out of my tongue/til all you want is done/and you just wanna leave me, oh yeah”
this song is a very third life grian song to me in particular! it could be my bias because of my little headcanon of grian burning on his red life, but seriously, this song is very reminiscent of the back and forth of loyalty that grian has with scar. the above line is sort of representative of the betrayal on red, and of course grian’s life debt.
night running- shin sakiura
(this song is in japanese! these lyrics are the rough english translation i found on google.) “someday we will stand at this place once again/for sure we will stand up again and again/we will watch it will the end/i want you to live freely”
this song is actually the ending theme for the anime bna, which i adore, and i just added it on a whim before looking at the translated lyrics. but um. holy hell the lyrics hurt me because they’re about running in search of someone, running for no reason, looking for something, and it just really hit, because the desert never really had a goal! they didn’t expect to survive, they were trying to survive, but what was their longterm goals? nothing. so that sort of endless search felt fitting for this. plus the song is a parallel for the two estranged best friends of the show so! perfect.
summer nights- siames
“it’s summertime/singing al green in your car/heading to a party/and the night air feels alive”
okay again, i will admit this song is mainly on here because i absolutely love it, but i also do think it fits well. it’s also about healing/estranged friendships, with a very distinct feeling of nostalgia for a happier time. maybe for a time when this was all a game, when there was no blood or betrayals on their hands. little canon divergent, but it’s fun for me, so into the playlist it goes!
allies or enemies- the crane wives
“are we allies or enemies/this will be the death of me, this will be the death of me/all’s fair in love and war but i can’t fight with you anymore”
. i just. points to that lyric. it literally led to both of their deaths. are they allies or enemies? it also fits with scar still wanting grian to be his friend even after he’s no longer indebted with the line “what happens now? do we have another go, do we bow out?” another very good animatic song that i’ve considered heavily. i listen to this playlist a lot
burn him down- kitsch club
“you must destroy, oh you must destroy, beyond all recognition/you gotta burn him down, you gotta burn him down, beyond all recognition”
this song just has a lot of fire and arson and high energy vibes. my little war criminals look at them go
rose- the oh hellos
“what's true is like a sickle/it'll cut you to the middle/your rose is without a thorn/but no, my mouth don't taste of metal/from the pot here to the kettle/i think we got a lot we gotta learn”
this one is like the exact opposite vibe of burn him down. the oh hellos are so poetic and this song just... feels like the healing potions after a battle. many of the metaphors here fit, i think
lone digger- caravan palace
“hey, brother, what you thinking/that good ol' sound is ringing/they don't know what they're missing/(they call it lonely diggin')”
okay this song is straight up just a dance song. i added it because i like it and also for some reason it feels ominous to me? i’ve got no idea why, it’s seriously just a club song, but it’s a banger and it’s in this playlist because i said so
feed the machine- poor man’s poison (suggested by my friend argonaughtkeene!)
“somethin’s goin” on, just look around/fear is on the rise, and there’s blood all over the ground/let’s all just blindfold the poor, we all know what’s in store/ we got ‘em now, just break ‘em down a little bit more”
this song is a VIBE for both desertduo members. there’s parts for both of them. it’s ruthless, gritty, very maniacal, perfect. listen to it and you’ll immediately understand why i added it.
sweet tooth- scott helman
“i hold hands with cosmic entities/i’ll take this two-ride if i please/i got this sweet tooth baby, yeah i got this sweet tooth baby/i exploit my opportunities/some broken hearts, some cavities”
sweet tooth is super upbeat and bright with these strangely dark lyrics? like i’m pretty sure it’s about addiction. in any case, i thought the “i hold hands with cosmic entities” very funnily fitting for both of the desert boys. it’s a banger!
necromancin’ dancin’- bear ghost
“when i’m necromancin’, everyone’s dancin’/nobody can stop me, i dare you to try/the dead are infused with insatiable groove and they’re coming for you, there’s nowhere to hide”
necromancin’ dancin’ just. bastard vibes. there’s not much more to say it’s just huge villain song vibes. i adore it.
crazy = genius- panic! at the disco
“if crazy equals genius/then i’m a fucking arsonist/i’m a rocket scientist/if crazy equals genius/you can set yourself on fire/but you’re never gonna burn, burn, burn”
i. yeah. y. yeah. more bastard vibes. also shoutout to an artist i saw (i think it was strifesolution?) who made a desertduo piece to this song because i have not stopped thinking about it ever
sweet bod- lemon demon
“i’m diggin’ up your coffin/and pouring out the contents/your sexy, sweet solution/is ripe for distribution”
you know how i said freaking out was a grian song? this one is a scar song. it’s my favorite lemon demon song and also it has the total macabre capitalism vibe that third life scar NAILED. more bastard vibes good for him <3
drunk- the living tombstone
“feel so much better than usual/i feel indisputable, oh/but now i’m feeling so beautiful/don’t wake me up from this spell i’m under, if i’m still breathing/i know that i will be ugly when i feel like myself again, oh/but right now i’m feelin’ so beautiful”
the descent of this song, starting off with a polite gathering and ending with a gasping drunk in the parking lot gazing at the stars that he can barely see? yes. yeah. mhm. i used a line from this song for a fic, actually, it fit so well.
oh no!- marina
“one track mind, one track heart/if i fail, i’ll fall apart/maybe it is all a test/cos i feel like i’m the worst so i always act like i’m the best”
bubbly pop track about false confidence, the ruthlessness of the pop industry, and the influence of the media? you know why this is here. it vibes. it rocks.
do it all the time- i don’t know how but they found me
“we’re taking over the world/a little victimless crime/and when i’m taking your innocence/i’ll be corrupting your mind/no need to cry i’m only doing everything i want to do because i do it all the time”
EVEN MORE BASTARD VIBES! SOMEHOW THERE IS MORE! this playlist is half villain songs and half heart-wrenching ballads and that’s the real desert experience i think.
the phoenix- fall out boy
“i’m gonna change you/like a remix/then i’ll raise you/like the phoenix”
BATTLE SONG BATTLE SONG! i’ll be honest i partially chose this song because i am a huge sucker for phoenix grian imagery in particular, but it’s also just a very good war song for them. villain song no 18372948 except this one originally had a hero vibe and now it’s changed specifically for them?? wild. their power
the other side- the greatest showman
“right here, right now/i’ll put the offer out/i don’t wanna chase you down, i know you see it/you run with me/and i can cut you free/out of the treachery/and all you keep in”
scar and grian’s desert monopoly conversation went exactly like this canonically because i said so fuck you <3
icicles- the scary jokes (suggested by my friend demizorua!)
“icicles don’t soften when they die/so why should i, why should i?/oh, icicles don’t soften when they die/they sharpen into sabers and they stab you in the eye”
this song actually has specific parts for both grian and scar! my cool epic friend mx demizorua pointed both of them out to me and i adored it so much. it’s a very spiteful song, just like the desert boys. also it feels vaguely murderous. perfect
problems- mother mother (suggested by my friend demizorua!)
“i’m a loser, a disgrace/you’re a beauty, a luminary, in my face”
literally this entire song fits them. particularly their relationship with the flower husbands, to me, honestly— the whole “when we meet at the pearly gates/you’ll get the green light/and i’ll get the boot in the face” reminds me a lot of them hdksjdks
tongues and teeth- the crane wives
“i know that you mean so well/but i am not a vessel for your good intent/i will only break your pretty things/i will only wring you dry of everything”
h. yeah. this song is literally gaslight gatekeep girlboss and i attribute it to the desert for that reason alone. songs to commit murder to!
you’re nobody til somebody wants you dead- saint motel
“you’re nobody til somebody wants you dead/and the list, it grows, and grows, and grows/it grows, and grows, and grows/and grows, and grows, and grows/until it’s everyone you’ve ever known”
this one is very self-explanatory. enemies pogchamp
curses- the crane wives
“there’s a fire in my brain and i’m burning, love/oh my, oh my/keep running to the sink, but the well is dry/oh my, oh my/every word i say is kindling/but the smoke clears when you’re around”
okay again! this one has two very specific parts for both of them. grian’s the first verse, which is above, and scar’s the second verse!! i really do like my fire imagery for these two don’t i? well, i blame them for having a fuck ton of tnt on them at all times and literally burning their enemy’s banners as a final act of defiance.
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strawberrylemonz · 3 years
Text
Introductions
Part 11
Part 12 [CURRENT]
Part 13
DT: @petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @jump-in-the-cadillac @ivorylin and @sydneys-sketches
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Uncertainty filled the group as they walked through the open gates, allowing the guests to freely venture in. As the crowd began to pass them, venturing off to different parts of the park, the lovely trio tried to get the group’s minds off of their worries. Lani was the first to pipe up. 
“So, what’s the first area of the park?”
That seemed to be the right thing to say, because Tommy immediately beamed with pride. Pulling up the pamphlet, he pointed to the first section before pointing at the crossroads sign by the group. 
“Tavern Town! Oh, you guys are going to love the cavern, you all have your own sections to represent each of you! Except Grian, he has two. I also added Kristin, Theo and Clementine! It’s all cool and shit.”
“A section? For me? Oh, Tommy! I knew I was your best friend! I’m smiling behind my mask! Let’s get going, then!”
“You’re still short as hell, Drista”
“I am not! At least my posture isn’t crap”
“My posture is perfectly fine!”
“Tell me that when you don’t need to fix it once it’s brought up”
“Shut up”
Adjusting the wiggly child in his arms, Tommy stuck his tongue out at Drista before leading the group through the archway for Tavern Town. There, they encountered their first member of Dream’s server.
“Tommy, Tubbo, thank god you two are alright! And Fundy, I’m glad you’re safe with them!”
Tommy didn’t tense up at the voice, why would he? As Grian plucked Clementine from Tommy’s arms, Tommy turned and smiled. Walking up with joy, he opened his arms in a welcoming manner.
“Sam! Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d be here! Guys, this is Sam! He’s great, you guys. Holy shit, Sam, I still have the creeper head you gave me.”
Taking notice of the genuine relief in Sam’s face and tone, Tommy allowed him to give him a hug. Tubbo joined in, Fundy following in suit. After everyone pulled away, Sam got a good look at them all. Giving a genuine smile, he let out a laugh as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Man, look at you all. You’ve all grown, I can hardly recognize you guys. I was so nervous that you were all gone for good. I’m sorry that I wasn’t enough to keep you from the terrible things you faced up until your disappearance. I-”
“It’s not your fault, man. No one could have seen that coming.”
“That’s not an excuse, Tommy. You were a child who didn’t get to be a child. You shouldn’t have had to deal with what you dealt with.”
“Tommy! Tubbo! Fundy! There you guys are! Sam, you found them!”
Tubbo smiled as he bolted in for a hug, Tommy and Fundy laughing as they waved to the new addition to the conversation.
“Puffy!”
The rest of the group watched with smiles at the reunions, Lani and Drista waving hellos when they were acknowledged. After being handed off to other members of the group, Theo and Clem were eventually put down on the ground. Huffing around with how much attention they were not receiving, they decided to do something about it. Shifting into a pig, Clem gave her cousin a nod, which Theo returned. Inhaling, the two opened their mouths and let their presences known. Clem began squealing like a pig as Theo stood beside her, head in the air as he let out a monotone scream. They didn’t stop, completely disregarding the pleas from the group. Finally, they were lifted into the arms of Fundy and Tommy. Theo immediately closed his mouth into a smile, smiling blankly at an amused Sam and Puffy. Clem squealed once more, before poofing back into her usual self, a gremlin grin being thrown at Sam and Puffy. 
“Sorry about that. This is Theo, my son. That, over there, is Clementine, but we call her Clem. She’s Tommy’s.”
After hearing her name, Clem perked up in Tommy’s arms. Giving a determined smile, she clenched her fists and glared at Sam, who was standing there in utter confusion. As he opened his mouth to nervously ask about her actions, Sam was left speechless as Clem poofed once more. She was inexperienced, that much was certain, but she was also determined. This was obvious based on her current form. As she beamed up at him, Sam could only stare as creeper-like features covered the small child. As she shifted back to her usual form, she and Theo clapped at her achievement. Laughing at the interaction, Tommy held Clementine towards Sam. After looking back at Tommy for a final nod of approval, Sam carefully pulled an excited Clem into his arms. His nervousness from holding the child increased the moment she put her small hands on his face, curious. He held his breath as he stared down at her curious, blue eyes. His concern, however, melted away the moment she giggle and papped his cheeks over and over again with her tiny hands, squealing happily as she did so.
“Holy shit, Sam, she seems to have warmed up to you quickly. Aside from Theo, you’re the only one. Even Fundy took a while.”
“My heart is wounded, she's chosen Sam over me”
“You’re my number one, Papa”
“Thank you, Theo. You’re mine, too”
Sam beamed with pride and happiness at the confirmation that Clem liked him. As she turned to face Puffy, she squeaked and shrunk into Sam’s embrace, her face flushing. As she mumbled incoherent words, she waved at the woman, who gave a friendly wave back. Tommy let out a laugh as he shook his head.
“Don’t worry, Puffy, she likes you. She’s just shy because you’re pretty, she does that to a lot of the people she meets.”
“I LIKE YOUR HAIR!”
Puffy blinked a few times before peering down. There, tugging her coat whilst pointing at her hair with starry eyes, stood a small Theo. Fundy made confused noises as he glanced between his arms and his son, not sure how he didn’t realize that he had escaped his embrace. As Fundy stood there, questioning the small boy, Puffy just smiled. Kneeling down, she plucked the entranced child off the ground and into her arms.
“Thank you! Isn’t it nice? You wanna touch it?”
A joyful laugh left her mouth as the small child nodded his head ferociously. Once he had her approval, he climbed up her, laying on her shoulder for support. Letting out a laugh, he plunged his tiny paws into her hair. Gasping in delight, he kicked his feet, which were hanging off Puffy, with excitement, whilst being sure to not hit her. With a giddy laugh, he caught the attention of his younger cousin, who was playing with Sam’s fingers.
“Clem! ClemClemClemClemClemClem! Look! Her hair is soft!”
Puffy could only laugh as Theo propelled himself up, throwing himself backwards. As she caught the child in her arms, he smiled at his dad, who was rubbing his temples. 
“Papa! Her hair is so colorful and soft and pretty!!!!”
“Puffy, I am so sorry-”
“Don’t be! He’s adorable! Cute little duckling”
“Duckling? But? Wait, Papa, I thought I was a fox. Am I really a duckling? Clem, am I a duckling?”
Theo peered over to his cousin, who was ignoring him. Frowning, he crossed his arms and sunk into Puffy’s hold as he watched his cousin as she put her hand against Sam’s, their palms touching. Eye’s widening at the size difference, she glanced up at the amused man.
“Hand! Big! Big hand! Hand is big! Big! Big! Big! Big! Big! Big!”
“Heh, yeah! I have a bigger hand.”
Laughter came from the group as the small girl nodded, incoherent words leaving her mouth. Realizing that they wouldn’t be getting their children back any time soon, Fundy shook his head as Tommy smiled at the sight. After a few more words were exchanged, Tommy led their group into the cavern. Sucking in a breath, he watched as Sam and Puffy walked over to their sections, taking in every detail Tommy put in. As Theo and Clem pointed out their favorite bits, Tommy joined Tubbo’s side, who was looking at his own, Drista and Lani standing next to him, comparing their own sections to each other. 
“You added so much. Is that a copy of my compass?”
“Yeah, it points to my own compass”
“Awwwwww”
“Don’t aw me, Tubbo”
“Okay, Tommy”
“Hey, Tommy! Is it alright if we move to the next rows of sections? Clemmy and Theo want to show us their favorite parts”
“Yeah, Sam, sure. Let’s get going”
Grian ruffled Tommy’s hair, who griped and complained about his hair. Kristin playfully bopped Grian’s head before she peered behind her at Sam and Puffy, who were both entranced with the children in their arms. Tommy only stopped when a hand stopped him in his place. Peering to the owner of the arm, he quirked an eyebrow at Drista. Slightly lifting her mask, she frowned and pointed a finger in front of the group. There, standing in front of the large section for the royal family of the Antarctic Empire, was the remaining members of the Dream SMP. Although he couldn’t mentally construct the sentences he found names slipping from his mouth as he spotted them, standing directly in front of the family portrait.
“Phil? Techno? Wi-Wilbur?”
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