#Tango thought Scott was dead from the way Jimmy talks about him. he is not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mizumech · 1 year

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My thoughts on Martyn’s Limited Life lore so far

“Every grain that passes

Comes to rest

A pillar built

Another test

These fickle feuds

Unguided hand

Forever moulding

In the sand

The thrill to kill

The fleeting gill

All washed ashore

To settle still

A single day

And then it’s gone

Doomed to repeat

Our will be done”

That’s what flashes on screen in Martyn’s episode 4 at 12 hours, 39 minutes and 2 seconds, right after the timer flashes 11:33:09 (the three numbers are divisible by either 1, 3, 11, or itself, does that mean anything?)

This implies that something big happened off-camera and Martyn is hiding something, because that’s a whole one hour not shown. Even weirder is how no one seems to have any footage of that.

I’ve only really watched Etho and Martyn PoVs so far, and I’ve been unable to find evidence if Martyn doing anything suspicious at that timing with Martyn roughly two hours behind Etho. (boogey victim+triple tnt victim+scott and bdubs kill)

As far as I’m aware, Jimmy is the only one of Martyn’s previous allies who have reached that timing (Cleo’s POV is currently unavailable, so I am unaware of anything going on at that time. Scar, although not an ally, skipped over that timing in his timer). At that timing, his plans to extort something from the Nosy Neighbours are interrupted by Pearl. In my memory, joined the shadow clan in Last Life, which could be an interesting fanfic thing as Jimmy is heavily related to Scott.

The first four lines don’t mean much to me, it could just be a way to emphasise that time is only running out and it is permanent. I’m not sure about what the ‘pillar built’ refers to. This could be a DLSMP fishing rod reference, an LLSMP end crystal reference and perhaps much more. My main theory is that this pillar refers to Scott’s MLG, as he was tested in LLSMP via end crystal. Once again, it seems he has failed this test, because, hear me out: He was not willing. Their will was not done.

After all, the Shadow liked Ren because he was willing. The Shadow would’ve preferred Ren winning over Scott. Scott’s test of the end crystal was a test of will. His unwillingness to kill and boogey-kill caused the Shadow to target Scott. And yet again, Scott defies. Scott refuses to die. Scott evades and Scott lives.

The first two lines could also be a reference to LLSMP thing about the Shadow consuming the souls of the dead or how every day passes eventually and becomes the next using the (grain=grian meme). Maybe it even refers to how many places the bread bridge passes suffer destruction.

Now, in video time, at 11:33 (I know that this doesn’t matter when it comes to other POVs as lore is Martyn-specific, but it is fun) Martyn, Jimmy (LLSMP ally), Etho (3rdLSMP & LLSMP ally) and Scott (current ally) respectively are saying ‘I want my time back’ agitatedly, trying to kill Martyn on the Bad Boys Manor (or just defend Joel), watching the chat announce Martyn’s death to fall/ender damage while fighting Tango and watching the chat announce Martyn’s death to the triple tnt kill.

In response to Martyn at video time 11:33, I want to talk about ‘These fickle feuds, unguided hand’. I know this could be a reference to the absence of Ren, who Martyn has had a track record of allying with, and I don’t deny that theory. In fact, I agree with it. The Shadow has been shown to rather like Ren. However, I wish to point out that Martyn explained he had only wanted to stress Joel out, and that he hadn’t wanted to kill him, but only decided he wanted to do so because everyone else was doing it and well, Martyn really is that kind of guy. Fickle basically means to switch loyalties or motives fast, which could apply to his sudden change in motive when feuding with Joel. Unguided Hand could refer to how the Listeners did not tell him what to do, and it was not their Will being done. ‘Forever moulding in the sand’ could refer to how all of these fights have to do with the want and need for time and perhaps how Martyn became the Hand in response to the Sand People.

Which brings us to the next part! We can also assume the verse is meant to be ‘Forever moulding/In the sand/The thrill to kill/The fleeting gill/All washed ashore/To settle still’ instead of ‘Fickle feuds/Unguided hand/Forever moulding/In the sand’. This could refer to how the passing of limited time moulds the need and the thrill of killing and also to how Scott was the last green among many yellows. Although I am unsure as to what ‘The fleeting gill’ may mean, fleeting means something lasting for a very short period of time. Did he mean ‘The fleeing gill’? Does this refer to Scott the merman dying underwater? Does this refer to Scott’s skin being ‘corrupted’ by coral? Speaking of which, the Shadow is opposed to Scott (if I remember rightly), and the coral is the symbol of the partnership between the H2Bros, which is…interesting to say the least because Scott told Martyn to kill him, mimicking 3rdLSMP. Is this an example of Scott being willing? ‘All washed ashore, to settle still’ could refer to Scott respawning on land, and how the beef between the Shadow and Scott is not done. This could also however mean that Scott’s willingness to die has caused the Shadow to reconsider but not completely. The Shadow can Hear the similarities between Dogwarts and the H2Bros. but is not totally trusting of Scott because Scott is hated. By literally everyone. The Watchers hate him, Pearl hates him, the server is after him, the Listeners hate him, and by extension, the Shadow hates him. But that’s why the Shadow could be reconsidering. There is drama to be had. However, the words ‘washed ashore’ invoke the imagery of shifting, washed sand, which could refer once again to Scott’s death, or imply that something big happened at 11:33:09 on the timer (e.g. killing someone, someone dying, someone going red). This could also imply that arguments and disagreements from previous games are not yet settled and that Martyn may attempt to kill Grian, Scar, etc.

He could even kill Scott again.

The last four lines are pretty standard lore stuff talking about the nature if the games and of course, the last line.

Our Will be Done.

Their will be done indeed.

#martyn inthelittlewood #lore #limited life #analysis #i need to hear other people’s thoughts am I going crazy

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thesnailkiwi · 1 year

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i wanna hear more about your weird vivid 3rd life dreams /not forced

Mkay mkay I really want to talk about this

First time it happened, or as I call it "first session". (Side note, everyone looked like their characters but realistic.)

Started out (normal?) And collected stuff. The usual. I didn't know anyone at all and it was weird. Everyone felt so familiar, yet I couldn't place who they were. I met Martyn pretty early on. We talked, and he threw seeds at me and ran off. I settled in the roots of a tree the first night (the rain was unpleasant to say the least). Eventually I dug out the area around the upturned tree and put a roof so it was kind of like a burrow. Boy, how I envied Dogwarts at the time.

I met Joel next. He... was something, alright. He insulted me half the time and actually does swear a lot. Oh, and he was like 5'6 so that made it even funnier. He was annoying, though. He kinda just broke into my house tbh.

After that, I heard about Tango’s game but thought it was too risky. I was also afraid because of Scar since I didn't know him and from the stories I had heard he was cruel and merciless. In my defense, he was a red.

I met Jimmy after his first death. He's such a nice dude omg. He's also easy af to fluster. I complimented him and he turned bright red. He, seeing my pathetic house, invited me back to the flower valley for the night. Scott was offended that he brought home someone other than him lmao. At first Scott was defensive but after Jimmy convinced him I was fine then he loosened up. I felt like a third wheel the whole time. Jeez Louise the sheer amount of affection between those two.

Ahaha the next day I wasnt too lucky. I got caught in a TNT trap someone set (I think it was the Crastle, but I'm still unsure) and exploded. Not fun, exploding. Let me tell you. At least it was quick ig.

Bdubs was grumpy about that since it wasn't meant for me. Sir, how am I supposed to know that when you set it near MY HOUSE?

This is where things started going downhill.

Dogwarts was starting to rise. I was allies with the flower valley so I quickly was introduced to the desert duo. I felt kinda bad for Grian since he couldn't use his wings, but realistic harpy things are weird looking. Scar was terrifying. My dude is like 6 feet tall, grey, and littered with scars. Jimmy was red and he still wasn't scary! Wtf!

Ah yes. The burning of the banner. How could I forget? I wasn't there for it, but Scott sounded scared when I visited them next.

I had seen Ren from a distance, and I was so, so angry at Martyn for becoming the monster he did. Oh yeah, and the two of them kept beating around the bush in their relationship and that was annoying as well. Like, dude, just tell him already.

I never really met the Crastle. But I did meet Martyn again and blow up on him about being part of Red Winter.

And here we are! The bunker battle.

I don't really remember much about this part. Pure adrenaline took over. But I did die to being shot by an arrow and falling into the lava moat. I ran back as fast as I could with literal leather armor. Jimmy was dead by then, and when Scott realized, oh jeebus bleebus.

Anger, sorrow, revenge. He definitely was NOT thinking clearly. Since I was closest to Jimmy in the battle, he blamed me for his death. He attacked me and killed me with his sword. Very uncomfortable way to die.

Session two.

Started out on bad terms. I killed a few of the villagers Grian saved and he definitely was NOT happy. I swear he meant the creeper for me and it agro-ed on scar instead. But we'll never know ig.

The Crastle became my home this time. Cleo was recruiting so I signed up.

It went how you think it would. Except this time I played Tango’s game. I failed and died.

Then Dogwarts invaded the Crastle. The others except Impulse got away, but then I realized he was a traitor. I got sacrificed on the altar. Dude the Red Winter axe is a huge ceremonial battle axe. Ren laughing is extremely eerie.

Then during the final siege, Martyn took my last life. Pretty anticlimactic if I say so myself.

Anyway, any questions? I can talk for hours.

I swear every time you send an ask, it turns into a whole essay lmao /pos

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eevee-eclair · 2 years

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Having Double Life thoughts

Bdubs and Impulse. They cuddle. All the time. Domestic morning kisses and fluff and pancakes and Impulse crying over the goat horns. They are gay your honor.

Joel and Etho. They cause crimes together. They aren’t romantic, but damn do they love each other /p. They wake up, choose violence, die, then cause problems. When they go red, I pray for the everyone because they will fuck shit up.

Scott, Pearl, Martyn, and Cleo. Holy shit. Talk about divorce arc, amiright? Haha, I’m coping.

Scar and Grain. FUCK YEAH BABY DESERT DUO 2.0!! They are gay crime. I think Grian will be the first death, honestly, because that’s just their vibe. Grian has him on a leash 23/7. He gets one hour of free time on Wednesdays.

Ren and Big B. They will probably build an empire to destroy everyone or live out a happy cottage core life, away from people. Either way, I love them and they are gonna be so awesome together.

Tango and Jimmy. WHERE ARE MY WORDS!??! They’re gonna be such a fun duo. I bet they’re planning arson right now this very moment. Jimmy might take some time to warm up to Tango because of the whole dead thing, but they’ll learn to get along.

#eevee says things #it’s nearly midnight and I’m having ✨thoughts✨

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

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Last Life session 3 out of context

transcript below the cut

*Impulse jumps off a wall and places water to stop damage, but as he turns to do the same to Grian, Grian hits the ground normally* Impulse: Oh. *Impulse splashes Grian with water anyway* Grian: Thanks.

...

Jimmy [scared tone]: He did a cough.

...

Scar: Could you imagine coming into a battle with some of these crystals? Think about it. Scott: I mean, I actually couldn't. Mainly because I have aphantasia so like when I shut my eyes, I can't picture anything.

...

Jimmy: We were just chattin' and chillin'. Grian: YOU JUST CHILLING ON THE CASTLE THAT'S ON FIRE!!!

...

Cleo: How are you not all dead yet? Mumbo: It IS a wonder.

...

Pearl: The CACTUS, Scott! Scott: What do we need it for?! Pearl: THE CACTUS!!!

...

Jimmy, to Impulse: He found me in the end in a wall and I had to run and he shot me.

...

Skizz: You see this, people? You see it? Tango, nodding: Mmhmm. Mmhmm. Skizz, laughing: You're nodding your head in the back.

...

Jimmy: That's like an only child move, that is.

...

Scott, with a bad posh English accent: And here we see the wild content creator doing their intro to the video. That is my attempt at a David Attenborough accent, which I definitely cannot do.

...

Scar: I think, um, I think some kind of hooligan came and tried to trash my house but they didn't find my valuable chest. Grian: Really? *Scar continues talking in the background as Grian zooms in on himself, playing a clip over the top of him breaking into Scar's house*

...

*Grian is taking damage due to the border and the other southlanders are frantically saying his name, worried he's going to die*

...

Scar: Oh, divert your eyes. Martyn, in third person front view: I would never press F5 twice.

...

Tango: I'm trying to figure out how to open my front door now.

...

Jimmy, to Scar: I will happily take my pants off right now and hand them over.

...

Scott: He does- Pearl: *giggles and runs away* Scott: PEARL!

...

Martyn, zooming in on Grian's face from a distance: Ey-up, you.

...

Scott: Arson is calling me.

...

*Martyn crouches into Mumbo's house and sneaks up to him, then giggles when Mumbo spots him*

...

*Bdubs, Etho, and Skizz sing "we're the BEST. around!"*

...

Mumbo: That seemed like it was going to descend into violence so I thought I'd go gather some quartz.

...

Lizzie: Cleo, please give them the table. Cleo: *drops her sword* Lizzie: That's a sword. Cleo: Oh that's my sword.

...

Martyn: Twenty'll give you plenty, that's what my mother's never said but let's pretend she does.

...

Skizz: You're not gonna do it. Tango: Skizz, I don't think he's gonna do that. Grian: I'm not gonna do that.

...

Scott: Etho! Etho: How's the wall going? Scott: Slowly!

...

Scar: I can't seem to get out. There is a big ginormous butt in my way.

...

Martyn: Man, don't you just love making dreams come true? Impulse: He's gonna love parenthood.

...

Mumbo: Is this what friendship feels like? Martyn: Nope, this is what being married feels like. *they laugh* Mumbo: Is that what just happened?

...

Etho, to Bdubs: Aww, my poor little fragile flower.

Martyn: I have many things, I do many things, I am many things.

...

Grian: We should defore- Don't do this in real life, people. *setting trees on fire* Don't- Don't- Honestly, this is the worst.

...

Ren: I have 15 blocks of lapis. Lizzie: That is a very questionable use of your time.

...

Mumbo: I feel like if someone prefaces something with "nothing to worry about", there's stuff to worry about.

...

Bdubs: And then your time on the surface, you blew up our front yard. *pause* Impulse [sheepish voice]: Yeaaah...

...

Martyn, seeing the horse hanging from its lead: What've you done? Impulse, giggling: Uh, nothin'. Martyn: WHAT've you done? Martyn: *sees pool of lava below horse* Martyn: OH MY GO-! WHAT'VE YOU DONE?!

...

*Etho stares at Lizzie, Ren, BigB, and Cleo in silence as they all stare back at him* BigB: Explain yourself. Etho: Oh I shouldn't be here, should I? Okay, I'm sorry, my bad.

...

Scar: Are you interested in some magic? Etho: Absolutely not.

...

Scar: Hold on hold on hold on we may have a major major issue! Martyn: Why? What's happened?! *pause* Scar: Nevermind, everything's fine.

...

*words come up on Lizzie's screen telling her she is the boogeyman* Lizzie: Oh, it's not me. Lizzie, narrating: But in fact, it WAS me.

...

*Scar is chased away by a screaming Grian* Scar: OOOOHHH I DON'T KNOW WHAT JUST HAPPENED!

...

Grian, on fire: The fire looks green! The fire is green!

...

Bdubs: I am the boogey! Etho, running away from Bdubs on soul sand with soul speed 3 boots: OH NO IT'S BDUBS NOOOOOOO!

...

BigB: Are you okay? Cleo: Are you okay? Lizzie: Yeah, you alright? Ren, crawling along the ground: I'm fine.

...

Martyn, frantically murdering chickens while Mumbo laughs at him: Oh! Alright! This is fine! I'm a professional; I do this every day! Please stand back! Professional at work! Professional at work!

...

Bdubs: What are you trying to get out of me? *pause* Etho [unconvincingly]: Nothin'.

...

Ren: The scum are incoming. Skizz: What're you calling me that for?!

...

Mumbo: Well, I kind of wasn't planning on taking his horse but now I have his horse and I guess this is what I live with.

...

Lizzie: I entrust the enchanting table to you. Cleo: Oh this is a bad idea.

...

*haunting music plays for several seconds as Etho creeps around the treetops above the fairy fort* Etho: Oh hey everybody! How's it going?

...

Jimmy: Oh he is- He is- Martyn: Oh. Oh jeez. Jimmy: He is burning a lot.

...

Scott, high pitched: WHAT DID I JUST WITNESS?! Lizzie: That's- That's what she gets for ruining my tra- *gasps* Oh my gosh, I nearly fell down there myself, oh my gosh.

...

Bdubs: YEAH, w're gonna fill it! We'll be an oreo lava sandwich!

...

Mumbo: -that it is impossible to find your way- I think I just found my way out.

...

Lizzie: I had to do it to 'em.

...

Grian, to Mumbo: You traded my shoes!

...

Cleo: Jimothy!

...

Grian: Are you spreading rumours, Etho? *pause* Etho: Yeah.

...

Lizzie: And you might be asking why why I'm not asking Cleo and BigB to help me. That is because Cleo scares me.

...

Grian: The sign clearly says no murder of any kind. Lizzie: *hangs her head*

...

Skizz: Bdubs, be a hero with me. My pants, your shirt. Bdubs: Your shirt, my pants! Ren: This is getting weird, man. This is getting real weird.

...

*Grian runs screaming very high pitched out of Scott and Pearl's house from the TNT trap Joel has laid*

...

Lizzie: I have absolutely no murderous intentions within me whatsoever.

...

Joel: *grumbling distinctly* Grian: *giggling* Joel: ARGH I'm SO angry! Grian: Creeper! CREEPER! Joel: *yelps and jumps away*

...

*Etho watches Bdubs doing work without him noticing; when Bdubs finally notices, he screeches*

...

Ren: I cannot tell you who it was. Lizzie: It was Etho, wasn't it? *pause* Cleo: *laughs*

...

Martyn: Don't say goodbye! Just leave!

...

Etho, about Lizzie: Is she using you, Ren? Oh, you gotta get outta that relationship, Ren. That's not a good relationship.

...

Grian, looking up at the dangling horse: Scar let us use the enchanting table free of charge... and this is what we do in return.

...

Lizzie: I've not made the best of choices so far in Last Life.

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c-r-ash-crash · 3 years

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Grian awoke to bright sunlight and warm summer air. He stretched languidly, noticing there was soft grass beneath him. Distantly, he wondered if he had fallen asleep in front of his main base. Oh well, wouldn’t be the first time. He rolled over and tried to fall back asleep. Then, with a start, he realized he couldn’t hear the sounds of parrots or goats, or any other sounds that usually filled boatem.

He opened his eyes, blearily, sitting up to look around. He was in a small field, a copse of trees off to the right and a bedrock platform embedded into the ground a few feet in front of him. An enchanter sat in the very center, but otherwise, the area was empty. Where was he? “No idea,” a familiar voice said. He glanced up to see Ren standing on the opposite side of the bedrock platform.

He whirled around and noticed that he was part of a circle of players surrounding the bedrock platform. He could see Scar, Impulse, Martyn, Jimmy, Scott, Cleo, Bdubs, Etho, Tango, Joel, BigB, and Skizz. And of course, there was him and Ren.

Scott swore under his breath. “Grian, I thought you said you shut down the server!” Grian’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?” Then he realized what Scott meant. Everyone here had also been on...instinctively, Grian glanced down at his wrist to check how many lives he had. “Don’t be red. Don’t be red,” he begged. Instead the skin on the inside of his wrist was blank. “We don’t have lives,” Grian said, almost stupidly. There was a scramble as everyone checked their own wrists. Theirs too were blank. No one knew whether to be relieved or scared.

“Slightly more important thing right now,” Bdubs said. “Scott’s right, Grian. You said you shut this server down. How are we back?” “I don’t know,” Grian said, frantically wracking his brain for anyway things could have gone wrong. He came up blank. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “I shut it down. Guys, I swear, I shut the server down. We shouldn’t be here.” “Except this isn’t the same server,” Etho said, startling everybody. “Look. We’re at spawn. And last I remember, there wasn’t bedrock at spawn. Or an enchanter for that matter. And all the biomes are completely different.” “He’s right,” Jimmy said. “This isn’t the same place.”

“Where are we then?” Tango asked. No one had an answer, but in his heart, Grian knew. The first time around, the universe had wanted a game. And now, it wanted a second round. He could tell by the looks in everyone’s eyes that they were thinking the same.

“What do we do?” Ren asked, ears pressed flat against his head. “We...we could stay together,” Impulse suggested timidly. “Rich coming from you,” Martyn muttered under his breath. Everyone chose to ignore him. “I mean, we don’t have lives anymore,” BigB said. “It might not be the worst idea.” “Don’t jinx it,” Cleo grumbled. “Knowing how the universe works, this round’ll be a lot more twisted than the last time. I wouldn’t bet on not having lives. This stupid server is probably just keeping us in suspense. More fun that way. For all we know, we’ll have even fewer lives to start with.” “Cleo’s got a point,” Tango said. “It might make more sense to split up for now.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Okay, can someone please explain what the heck is going on?” a new voice broke in. Grian whirled around to see Lizzie, Pearl, and Mumbo standing at the edge of the group. “Oh no,” he muttered under his breath. “Not you. Please not you.” “Lizzie,” Joel whispered. “No, no, no, no, no. Please. Not her.” Grian turned to face the heavens and recited every swear word he knew, cursing the universe for making him live this nightmare again, cursing it for taking his friends as sacrifices.

“Griba, what’s going on?” Pearl said firmly. For a moment, no one said anything. Then, Scar said quietly, “Pearl, Mumbo, remember that server I told you about? The one where everyone only had three lives?” Pearl and Mumbo nodded slowly, then their eyes widened in horror as they realized what Scar meant. “Surely...” Mumbo swallowed. “You can’t mean that’s what this place is, can you?” The grim looks on everyone’s faces said enough. “Oh, no,” Lizzie murmured. “I’m going to get us out of here,” Grian said, voice shaking more than he cared to admit. “I promise. For now, we need to get far, far away from each other.”

The veteran members murmured their assent. Then, as if one, they turned heel, and began walking in the opposite direction. After a moment, Lizzie, Pearl, and Mumbo followed suit.

Grian had been exploring the server, looking for a place to set up camp when a small chime reverberated through his skull. He stopped dead in his tracks. Words floated in front of his eyes. “You have...” They hovered there for a moment, but then with another chime, they changed to read: “2 lives.” Grian pulled back the sleeve of his sweater to see two yellow hearts tattooed onto his wrist. “...Crap.”

Scar had just finished climbing a tree, when he heard the chime. “You have...” the text read. “6 lives.” Scar’s brow furrowed. He should have only had three lives. How had he ended up with double that amount. Not that he was complaining, but even with the game having gone so wrong the first time, the server shouldn’t be this glitched. He glanced down to see six dark green hearts inked onto his wrist anyways.

Martyn was harvesting wood when the chime sounded. His heart sank as the text appeared. “You have...” Silence echoed through the forest. “4 lives.” “What?” he muttered, as four dark green hearts etched themselves onto his wrist. “How? I’m only supposed to have three.” Before he could ponder it further, his stomach growled, and he set off to find food.

Scott had been hunting a cow when the chime startled him out of his hiding place. “You have...” the text appeared. “2 lives.” “Oh no,” he whispered. He needed gear. Now.

Jimmy had been exploring the server, looking for a high vantage point when the chim rang out. “You have...2 lives.” “Not again.” Distantly, he wondered where Scott was.

Impulse was gathering up splintered pieces of wood when the chime startled him. The wood went crashing to the ground. “You have...3 lives.” So Cleo had been right. Impulse went back to gathering his wood.

Etho and Bdubs were gathering resources when they heard the chime. “You have...4 lives,” the text read for Bdubs. Quietly, he pulled his sleeve further over his wrist and the four dark green hearts that appeared there. “You have...4 lives” the text read for Etho. He pulled a strip of cloth from his jacket and wound it around his wrist. No point letting anyone else know he had an advantage.

Cleo stopped in her tracks when she saw the text. “You have...two lives.” “Oh, this is so bad,” she muttered under her breath, picking up her pace as she looked for shelter.

Tango had been harvesting wood when he heard the chime. “You have...6 lives.” He was too elated by the prospect of the extra breathing room that he didn’t bother to ponder how it was possible to have more than three lives.

BigB had been standing by the riverside when the text appeared. “You have...3 lives.” “Guess Cleo was right,” he murmured. “I suppose I oughta get geared up.”

Skizz waited patiently as the text decided his fate. “You have...3 lives.” Well, at least he knew what to expect this time.

Joel sat down on the edge of the mountain, and waited for the text to tell him what horrors the universe had in store for this round. “You have...5 lives.” “Oh, five,” he said, wondering whether everyone else had the same amount of lives. Slowly, five dark green hearts appeared on his wrist.

Lizzie’s hand traced along the world border, but she stopped as a loud chime rang through her skull. “You have...” floating green text read in front of her eyes. “4 lives.” What did that mean?

Pearl pushed the branch out of her way, but startled by the chime, she let it hit her in the face. “You have...6 lives.” That was good, right? Lots of lives meant a chance to live longer. Six dark green hearts etched themselves into the skin of her wrist. Six lives was good, right?

Mumbo gathered leaves together, using tree bark to tie them into a makeshift sack. He stopped when the chime sounded however. “You have...4 lives.” “Alright!” he exclaimed. After all, four lives was good. Maybe everyone had just been overreacting when they had joined the server. Mumbo certainly hoped they’d been overreacting.

Now, the game had begun anew, and the universe watched with glee as the players began to move into place.

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starcrossedkaiju · 3 years

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Kingslayer AU: Chapter 14

This took a bit longer than I thought it would 😀 life kinda said lol to me for a while.

“Augh!” Scott cried out. He breathed in desperately, but his mouth filled with water.

Sitting up and rolling to his side, he coughed out a stream of water. Groaning when he finished. Scott sat up wearily, blocking the sun from his face.

It was warmer than usual. He was sitting in a waist high pool of water, around his shoulders as he was sitting down, which was a warm brown color. Behind him he could hear the roar of the river he had floated in from.

Scott rubbed his eyes and gauged the pain in his bruising shoulder. He felt like something was missing when he noticed.

“Tango?” He called out. A twinge of frantic concern escaped in his voice. Scott turned in every direction, scanning the surroundings for any sign of his friend.

What if they’d been separated in the river? What if his friend had drowned?

His anxiety was at its peak when another person sat up from under the water. Sputtering and flailing about, Tango had been hidden under the murky pond.

Scott fell backwards in surprise, his shock eased when he saw his friend, who looked alright enough. Tango seemed satisfied with the amount of water he discarded, looking up he met Scott’s eyes.

Tango’s eyes widened with relief, he laughed, it looked slightly painful, but he pulled the other into a tight embrace.

“Are you alright?” he pulled back, looking Scott over for any sign of harm.

“I’m fine, uh, except for the shoulder,” Scott replied.

“Oh, yeah,” Tango got to his feet. He held a hand out for the other to take.

Once they had waded to the mucky shore, Tango ordered Scott to enter the trees while he ran to the other side of the pond. Tango hastily did so, looking up and around the area. Scott could see a triumphant expression make it’s way onto his face.

“Come here,” Tango motioned when he got back to Scott, “look,” he pointed skywards.

Scott followed his line of sight up into the sky. Right above the trees, a line of grey smoke floated into the sky.

“What is it?” he asked.

Tango smiled, “The Crastle,” he exclaimed.

After a while of enduring wet socks through a lightly wooded area. The Crastle came into view. It was nearly sundown now, and Scott recognized where they were. Almost dead in front of the castle and it’s moat, the drawbridge was still down. For the sun was not gone yet.

Tango crouched in the last bit of trees, surveying the barren, icy field that housed the humble fort. Deciding they had to go at some point, he told Scott to come. They jogged low through the tall stretches of grass, then hastily across the drawbridge.

Kneeling behind a small decorative wall, Tango went to the door while Scott stayed in place. He knocked on the door politely, but hard enough to provoke any inhabitants to answer.

A few moments passed and a small circle of wood slid out of the door. A peephole, and an eye appeared in it. Tango leaned down to make his identity known, which may have been a stupid thing to do in hindsight. What if a member of Dogwarts had been visiting?

The door swung open. Cleo’s already wide eyes were impossibly wider. Although her face could not go pale, one could imagine that it did.

Quickly, all three rushed inside. The doors and windows were slammed shut and locked.

Without even a hello, Cleo whipped around to face the two fugitives. Hands poised on her hips.

“What on Earth are you two doing here?” she seethed. Her eyes were angry, her teeth gritted.

“We need help,” Tango replied. Putting his hands up in mock surrender.

Scott had never been aquatinted with the girl before. Cleo and her friend Bdubs lived a relatively secluded life in the Crastle together. They did not have to ask to be left alone, both were a force to be reckoned with when under threat.

Soldiers by nature, Cleo and Bdubs defended their small claim to a normal life with everything they could. Scott understood their seclusion. Had he not been doing the same?

“Yeah you do,” Cleo nearly laughed. Tango didn’t look very amused.

“Not funny, Cleo, we both almost died,” he said with a tired frown.

She dropped the mirthful expression. Nodding, “You shouldn’t have come here,” she looked away.

“Cleo. Please,” Tango reached for her thin hand, which was worn and frail looking from accumulating years of war and hardship.

Cleo’s eyes met his in a silent response. Not to his plea, she would never have said no to him.

“A week,” she bargained.

Scott felt like an outsider to their relationship. He knew they had been close for a long time. Then he knew of Cleo’s heartbroken anger towards the man for betraying their alliance. Even if he was pretending. Tango hid his truer feelings under various layers of hostility and irony. Now that they were all in the room together, it was obvious, at least in part, what had been eating away at his friend for the past months.

Back in the cow farm Scott always wondered why Tango made such an effort to help him through his guilt of lying to Jimmy. To Scott, there was no way anyone could understand what he was going through. Now though, he knew Tango was feeling the same way about the Crastle Folk.

“Thank you Cleo,” brightness returned to Tango’s eyes. He shook her hand gratefully.

A smile found its way onto the girl’s face as well. She pat him on the shoulders in place of a hug. They turned back to Scott, who was sat on a chest holding his shoulder.

“We should fix that,” Cleo pointed out the obvious.

After a bit of shuffling around in cabinets and chests, Cleo had started wrapping Scott’s arm in a strap of bandages. She talked about healing it up in no time, a healing potion once a day. Good as new. As long as he kept it in the cast.

She wrapped a piece of fabric around his neck to carry his Arm in, then gave him his first healing potion.

It was silent for a while. The three of them doing random tasks to pass the time, sweeping up the invisible dirt on the floor, examining the titles of a small collection of books on the countertop, and using one had to clean a wound.

A knock at the door halted the peaceful atmosphere. Tango and Scott instinctively found their ways to each others’ side. Suddenly aware of every curtained window.

Cleo quietly approached the door. She slid the peephole open slightly, squinting through. Turning around quickly, she whispered.

“It’s Impulse,” her expression was fearful.

Tango didn’t share her concern. At all. He smiled, going to the door.

“Alone?” he asked.

Cleo nodded.

“Let him in,” he said. Cleo looked at him like he had three heads.

He repeated himself and she hesitated, but she opened the door. Only slightly, so Impulse would only see her. They exchanged unintelligible words before Impulse was granted access to the Crastle.

He looked around. Scott and Tango both waved at him a bit awkwardly. Both of them immediately conscious of how haggard they must look.

Impulse sighed with relief. He put his sword down against the wall and went to meet his friends, pulling the both of the into a hug.

“Are you okay?” he studied each of their faces for any signs of being hurt, save for the now patched wound on Scott’s forehead and his broken shoulder.

“Somehow some way,” Scott muttered, retreating from the embrace.

This was the first time he was clearly able to see the other since their squabble at the desert battle. Impulse looked tired before anything else. Before relief or concern, he was clearly exhausted.

Scott looked away, a knowing part of him said “your fault,” which he made no effort to ignore.

“Impulse, I’m so sorry,” he admitted.

“It isn’t your fault. I’m the one who messed up, super bad. I understand how upset you are,” Scott worried with a strand of hair near the base of his head.

Impulse looked like he was forcing various thoughts off of his tongue, he simply said, “I’m glad you’re okay,” patting Scott on the shoulder.

He shifted his attention back to Tango. Scott backed away from the encounter, sitting on the staircase.

“What do we do now?” Impulse asked him.

Tango made a thoughtful face. His duty returned to him as he contemplated a new plan of action.

“Me and him will leave once it’s safe,” Tango gestured to himself and Scott, “we’ll hightail it to the Northern corner, in the border mountains. It will be safer there. Especially if we go underground,” he said.

Impulse nodded along, he asked, “when are we leaving?”

Tango hesitated, “you aren’t,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Impulse replied as if he’d been slapped.

“We’re going. We’ve been exposed, if I haven’t been as spy then I have as a traitor. Neither of us can stay here; but you can,” Tango said.

“You may have defied the Army at the trial today but you haven’t compromised yourself. Go back there and forget about the damn mission. Take care of him,” he ordered, hands coming to the other’s shoulders.

Impulse frowned deeply; but he nodded.

The moment was over seconds later. Impulse asked if he could stay for a while longer, just in case the Red Army showed up looking for them.

“Where should we stay while we’re here?” Scott asked Cleo.

She looked left in thought, then led them over to a double chest in the corner. It was full of many miscellaneous items. Broken pagers, cups, wood, and coal. Cleo lifted the bottom of the container up. All the contents came with it. They were glued to the surface.

Under the chest was a hole with a ladder. It went down some seven feet into what looked like a dark tunnel.

“Secret Tunnel!” Tango pumped his fist in the air, clearly amused.

Cleo and Impulse laughed along with him, clearly over a joke Scott didn’t understand.

Once everyone had clambered to the bottom of the pit, it became apparent what the “secret tunnel” truly was. There were rows of shelves lining the walls, each was stocked with various canned foods and bags of grain.

“Cleo! Have you been hoarding all the non-perishables on the entire map?” Scott exclaimed once he entered the cellar.

He picked up a can of corn, “How much of this do you have?”

Cleo stifled a laugh, “There’s still plenty being made in the village. It’s not my fault I actually take advantage of their generosity,” she said.

She plucked a can of carrots in gravy from one of the shelves, shaking it in his face. Scott grimaced at the prospect of eating carrots in gravy, but Cleo insisted they were fine heated up.

“So, this is home base, I’m assuming,” Tango said. He probably knew about the cellar already, having lived in the Crastle for a short time.

“Yes. For now. We could have given you the attic, but I wasn’t so sure you’d like to share it with the barn owls,” Cleo joked.

It was comforting that despite the circumstances, the small family-like clique could still be humorous with each other. The smiles of his servermates eased Scott’s racing mind. He leaned against a bare wall and slid to the dusty floor, near a furnace.

“It’s getting late, I need to leave,” Impulse piped up after an engaging back and forth about whether or not barn owls were actually in the attic, and if Tango was actually brave enough to go check.

The weight of a “goodbye” soured the mood immediately. Neither Scott, Tango, or Impulse knew how long it would be until they saw one another again. Nor did they know what unfortunate circumstances may arise while separated.

Tango shook Impulse’s hand, pulling it towards him and smiling reassuringly. Although it looked more like a grimace. Neither said goodbye, only good luck and be safe.

Scott’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, but when Impulse turned to him, he hung his head and hugged him; and they just stayed like that for a bit. Impulse ruffed up the other’s hair before pulling away. He shook Scott’s hand as well.

“I’ll be seeing you,” Scott said. Speaking it into existence.

“Soon”, is all Impulse replied before ascending the ladder. Cleo followed him to bid farewell.

The door upstairs shut and locked.

It was going to be a long winter.

#mcyt #mcytblr #3rd life smp #3rdlife #3rdlife smp #scott smajor #tangotek #impulsesv #zombie cleo #kingslayer au #cas types #the crastle #okay 👍

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square-blunt · 3 years

Text

Don't trust english boys with far too much free time (SPOLIERS FOR 3RD LIFE SMP)

its that time again, i wrote a fic run in here come get y'alls juice. 3rd life smp fic that i threw together rq. (HUGE SPOILERS) Basically, during Scott's 7th episode, I make everything worse than it was.

Tw- Death, major gore/blood mentions, suidical intentions, but it's only a few lines and it's nothing explicit, and overall hurt. Wc: 2994 AO3: here!

It had all happened so fast. The battle of- Scott couldn’t be bothered to remember what Grian had called it. Why should he? It was the battle where he lost everything. Fuck, it had all happened too fast. He and Grian were killed. Him by Ethos, Grian by Martyn, and then- and then Jimmy. Jimmy was shot by Skizz. Scott had respawned somewhere outside of the flower kingdom, running back to the desert as quickly as he could, but when Jimmy’s- when the message popped up- Scott stopped running. He could feel it, too, a ringing in his ears, a phantom pain in the right side of his head- he didn’t need the message to know that his husband was dead. He becomes lightheaded, vision blurring, and he stumbles into and leans on a tree for stability. He- he didn’t- he couldn’t- he shouldn’t have- just left Jimmy there- how could he have been so stupid? If he just hadn’t died- if he had just told Jimmy to stay home- if he had just told Grian and Scar to fuck off- he stumbles down the hill towards the desert. Why hadn’t the TNT gone off yet- Scar wasn’t dead why hasn’t he pulled the lever? As the desert comes into view, Scott sees that the lever had indeed been pulled. Dogwarts just got lucky. None of them died. He sees some of them still hanging around the bunker where Scar and- no, Jimmy- Jimmy- his husband was more resilient than that- he- Scott knew- Jimmy wasn’t dead he couldn’t be that wasn’t how this worked- no, no, no. No- no- it’s not- he’s not-

/msg SolidarityGaming: [This user doesn’t exist]

No- no, fuck-

“Jimmy?” Scott whispers to himself. He needs- he has to- Jimmy’s name- he needs to hear someone say it. If he has to say it himself then so fucking be it. “Jimmy- Jimmy, Jimmy I’m so sorry, Jimmy- please- I’m sorry please, Jimmy, please come back, Jimmy, I can’t-” he doesn’t want to alert the Dogwarts people- he has extra potions behind the desert house. He avoids any Dogwarts that stayed behind and snags his extra potions. He feels numb. He doesn’t know where Scar is, he doesn’t know where Grian is, he doesn’t know what’s gonna happen next but quite honestly he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to go back to the bunker- but he doesn’t have a choice. He makes his way back over, and he hears Grian worrying over Scar inside,

“Grian?” Scott is surprised at how horse his voice is.

“Scott? Scott- what- it- what happened? ” Grian climbs out of a hole in the sand, dirty, bloody, and worried

“It all went- horribly, horribly wrong-” Scott pushes down the massive pit in his stomach, and tries to put some lightness in his voice.

“Oh- all is- all is lost- what happened? Did the explosion- the explosion- what-” Grian starts to sprint towards the massive crater in the desert- and Scott follows closely behind.

“The explosion went off but it didn’t kill any of them- Cleo was shot by Ren??” Scott sees the message pop up on his communicator- the pit in his stomach expanding as he tries not to look up at- or not to think about what Bdubs might be thinking. He ponders reaching out- but he doesn’t think he could handle that right now. He knows Grian is talking, probably going on, and on about the explosion, maybe wondering where Scar went- if he was anywhere he’d be in the bunker- where Jimmy…. Where Jimmy was supposed to be. The ringing in his ears grows louder.

“-all is lost.” Scott slowly regains his bearings and hears Grian fretting over… everything that’s just happened. “We must- Do- ugh- Is there any stuff here to get back? Are we completely dead?”

“Um, I have this, I- I’m- I was smart in my excess potions, I put away-” Scott says, opening his bag and handing a few to the other.

“As you can see I also had a backup room-” Scott does notice that Grian has iron armor, which was more than him at least.

“Yeah, I have a few more diamonds- oh-”

“Tango was shot by Ren- Tango is out-” Grian says, calling attention to yet another death message.

Scott responds, but he doesn’t know what he said, he doesn’t understand what Grian says next, because they’re standing at the doorway to the bunker. It wasn't the doorway Grain had built, just a hole in the wall. 2 blocks high, one block wide, beckoning for Scott to go in, to see what had happened. Scott knows his husband is on the other side of that wall.

"-Scott?" Scott snaps back to reality when Grian places a hand on his shoulder.

"I’m- I'm okay, really-" Scott rushes, feeling a familiar sting in his eyes. Do not cry do not cry do not cry-

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Grian says, as soft as can be. Fuck, he hates that. He's supposed to be this battle-hardened warrior- do not cry do not cry- Grian wasn't supposed to remind him of how vulnerable he is. Grian wasn't supposed to see how vulnerable he could get.

Scott shakes his head, putting on a smile, do not cry, "What do you mean? I'm just gonna go see if there's anything we can salvage-" his voice shakes, but he hopes Grian doesn't notice.

Grian notices

"Scott, I'll be waiting out here." Grian gives Scott a friendly smile, "Here." Grian offers him a water bottle and a washcloth. Scott chokes back a sob and takes it, his smile wavering. He nods, not trusting himself to speak. Grian walks a few paces away, out of soft speaking distance, and Scott turns back to the gap. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. Fuck, he doesn't want to do this. He wants to turn around, run back to his kingdom, lock himself inside his house and pretend that all of this never happened. That Jimmy- that Jimmy was still across the pond, making a fuss over the cows and the chickens, asking him to mine, and then mining for hours and finding nothing but companionship. Scott wasn't ready to face the truth. Scott wasn't ready to face his last two lives without him- Scott wasn't ready to face anything without him. He takes another breath, and steps in. He looks down at his feet- that was a mistake.

There's so much blood.

It's everywhere he looks.

Everywhere he looks is just… red.

Fuck, there's so much blood.

It's smeared on the floor, a sign of struggle? There are footprints. Maybe- no, the footprints lead out the door- they're Scars. Any hope Scott had left leaves his body in a sob. He covers his mouth and backs up against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

He knows what's in this room.

He knows.

He doesn't want to accept it but he knows.

He opens his eyes, and it's like a stab to the gut.

He can't look further than Jimmy's hand.

That hand that Scott took as he pulled him out of a hole the first day, the hand that Scott shook to promise friendship, the- the hand that Scott held, last night, under the stars, listening to an owl far in the distance, trying not to fall asleep, confessing to each other that they might be more than friends. The hand that quickly fashioned a makeshift ring out of a red tulip stem. The hand that couldn't build for shit, but somehow built the most important thing to Scott- a bond. The hand that laid limp, lifeless, grey, covered in its own blood.

Scott wishes it were him.

Scott wishes that he was the one whose blood was all over the floor, the walls, the ceiling.

Scott was tough, blunt, sarcastic but Jimmy was bright and happy and his smile lit up the entire world- he was Scott's entire world- fuck, why'd it have to be Jimmy? Jimmy was so… unapologetically loving. Scott loved few and far between. Jimmy was carefree. Scott was a pushover. Jimmy couldn't give two shits about what other people thought of him. Scott was meticulous and worried over the slightest details. Jimmy was willing to hear everyone out, to give people second chances. Scott was toxic and everyone knew it. Jimmy was loved by everyone. Scott was loved by Jimmy. Why did it have to be Jimmy?

Scott's stomach is turning itself inside out, his head is spinning, his lungs won't take in enough air, he sobs again. He falls to his knees. He can taste the salt and iron that hangs in the air, its sting seeping into his skin. His hands are stained with blood- with Jimmy's blood- he crawls over to Jimmy. Grasping his hand- somehow it's colder than Scott remembers. Jimmy's hand was already cold due to him being a red-life but now it's so cold that Scott can barely take it. He sobs again, but this time he can't stop. The sobs won't stop, the tears won't stop, the pain won't stop- as they roll off Scott's cheeks and fall to the floor, to his hand, to Jimmy's hand- they fall and clear circular patches of blood away. It reminds Scott that the blood hasn't had time to dry yet.

Scott sobs harder.

Scott makes the mistake of looking up.

Jimmy really does look like he's sleeping.

His eyes are closed, his lips, soft and slightly parted.

He'd look so peaceful.

If it weren't for the arrow in the side of his head, and the gashes in his chest.

Those fucking- they raided the bunker and made sure- that's where all the blood came from- they fucking- Scott moved to cradle Jimmy's head in his lap, wiping away the blood on Jimmy's face. Scott wants to believe he's sleeping. Jimmy just… fell asleep in his arms. They were up on a ridge top somewhere, and Jimmy just fell asleep. He can almost feel the landscape around him, the cool breeze… he can hear Jimmy's laughter and indignant protests over the simplest things, he can't feel a phantom hand cupping his cheek. He can hear Jimmy say 'I love you'.

Scott screams.

Scott screams until his voice feels torn to shreds.

In honor of a voice he'd never hear again.

He screams as many 'No's and utter denials and one can muster, he screams at those- those bastards that took Jimmy from him, he screams 'If I had' after 'If I had' after 'If I had', he screams for the tears that drown his vision, the tightness in his chest that feels suffocating. He knows Grian can hear him through the sandstone walls but he doesn't care. He hadn't cared for a long time. Not until Jimmy. Jimmy, his fucking starshine, his morning glory, his fucking dumbass husband, who didn't hesitate to protect Scott from the most powerful people here- because Jimmy didn't want to lose him.

It should have been Scott.

But the universe is cruel.

He hunches over, sobs tearing through his body, protecting what's left of his husband, watching his own tears leave clean streaks in the bloody mess. He takes the water and the rag and wipes away what he can. Scott clears Jimmy's face, his beautiful fucking face, wipes the blood from his lips, nose, hair. Oh, his hair. Jimmy never did anything with it. Never brushing it, leaving it in whatever state it was in when he woke up, starting a few days ago, Scott would hold him down and fix it for him. 'No husband of mine is going to walk around with hair as bad as that.' It didn't matter, Jimmy's hair was still matted to the side of his head. Scott couldn't even look to that side of his face without almost throwing up-

The arrow despawns.

Scott pulls his sword from his inventory with hysteric breaths and unforgiving sobs. He holds it at arm's length. He's still a yellow-life, this wouldn't fix anything. He'd become a red-life, and then have to do it all over again. He doesn't have the energy. He wishes he had the energy, but… he knows Jimmy would be appalled. That is, if the afterlife would be kind enough to put them together. But Jimmy would still be upset. That's one of the many things he loved about Jimmy. If you did something for him, a gift, rebuilding his house, doing his hair, he'd get so flustered. He'd get red in the cheeks and would start stammering and it was the cutest thing. Scott would start teasing him about it and Jimmy would sheepishly smile and hide his face in his shoulder.

But that smile is gone now.

Scott lets the sword clatter to the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Jimmy" Scott whispers, rocking back and forth, his thumb circling Jimmy's cheek. "I never wanted it to end this way." Scott lets his head hang, his hair brushing Jimmy's forehead. Jimmy loved Scott's hair, too. He would constantly tuck it behind Scott's ear for him, sometimes adding a flower. He would constantly complement the blue, make up little nicknames. Jimmy's favorite color was blue.

"It's because of you," Jimmy had said, "blue being my favorite color, it's because of you. Your eyes, your hair, everything about you is blue in the best way. The flowers are jealous." Scott saw blue in everything after that. He sees something blue in his jacket pocket that hadn't been there before-

It's a hyacinth.

Jimmy must have slipped it in before the fight, how it stayed in his pocket he has no idea, but it's the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for him. He gingerly pulls it out, some of the petals are stained, but it doesn't matter to Scott. Jimmy put it there. Jimmy put it there. Jimmy saw this flower, thought of him, snuck it into his pocket, and- maybe Jimmy thought it would bring good luck? Scott starts to sob again, holding a simple blue flower in one hand, his best fucking friend in the other.

Scott tucks the flower behind Jimmy's ear.

Scott's chest and hands and legs are red, his eyes are red, he is broken beyond repair. But he still sees the blue. It stands stark against the red. The blue in Jimmy's clothing, the blue of the hyacinth blending with his hair. Jimmy's eyes were blue, too. He wants to see that blue again more than he's wanted anything in his life. He wants to be mad at those who took it away from him. He can't bring himself to be mad. He should be blind with rage, but he's just tired. If Jimmy were here, he'd make him tea and tell him to stay inside, Jimmy might have even stayed with him instead of going out to farm or mess around with Joel or Impulse.

Why, why, why, why did it have to be Jimmy. Jimmy was the last person who deserved this. Jimmy honestly deserved the world. Jimmy… he made the world a better place. The world feels wrong now.

"I'll be back to bury you, my love, but I can't stay," Scott whispers. He lightly kisses Jimmy's forehead. "We've had each other since the beginning, I will see this through to the end. They won't get away with this. I can't let them. You were everything to me, you still are. I love you with everything I have, even now that death has parted us, I can't stop loving the memories we shared." Scott can't recognize his own voice. It's strained and raspy and it hurts to speak. It hurts to breathe. It hurts so fucking much. Scott has to tear himself away. If he had his way, he would stay there until someone came along to kill him, too. But Grian still needed him. He- he let Jimmy down, he wasn't going to let Grian down. Scott kisses Jimmy's cheek one last time and picks up his sword, planning vengeance. He'd have to survive that long, but he would. He can't give up. He only realizes how bloody he is as he steps out of the bunker. Sure enough, Grian is waiting for him as promised. Before Scott can say anything, Grian runs over and scoops Scott up into a hug.

"You're gonna have blood on your clothes now, too" Scott rasps, Grian laughs lightly.

"I'm so sorry. We'll kill Skizz, I swear on it." Grian says, rubbing Scott's back. Scott tucks his head into Grian's neck.

"What am I supposed to do without him?" Scott whispers, barely audible to either of them

"Kill Dogwarts. Bring them down. Make them regret everything they've ever done." Grian whispers back. No one's around, they have no need to be whispering, but neither of them wants to raise their voice.

"They deserve it, they're homophobic," Scott says, some of his trademark sarcasm creeping back into his voice, Grian giggles.

"There he is. I missed you, Scott." Grian smiles, pulling away.

"This is gonna suck, isn't it," Scott says, sniffing, chest tightening again, a sad smile on his face.

"It might- hey, hey, it might, but Scar and I are here for you. We'll fight tooth and nail for you, and for Jimmy, I swear." Grian offers some armor, which Scott gladly accepts.

"Well, we have to find Scar first," Scott and Grian both laugh, "I'll come back for him, to take him and bury him back home. But… I just can't do that right now." Scott sighs.

"Take all the time you need, Scott," Grian says. Scott was lucky to have him and Scar. Scott knew they were his friends, his allies, and Jimmy trusted them until the end, and so too would Scott. They- they were all he had left of Jimmy.

He wasn’t gonna lose them too.

He can’t.

He couldn’t.

He didn’t.

#tag time yayyyyyyy #3rd life spoilers #3rd life smp #3lsmp #flower husbands #jimmy solidarity #3l!jimmy #3l!solidarity #scott smajor #3l!scott #3l!smajor #angsttttt #blood tw #death tw #Grian tries his best #gremtalks #my fics

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starcrossedkaiju · 3 years

Text

Kingslayer AU: Chapter 11

The big one! This literally took weeks to complete. I wanted it to be done.

We are inching ever closer to the end of this arc. Two more chapters I think.

This one is much longer than the recent ones, but don’t worry. That theme most likely won’t continue.

Warnings: // non-explicit blood, violence, and injury, Major Character Death(s) \\

Scar called upon all of his allies on an exceptionally cold evening, a wicked blizzard was blowing through the server as Scott walked hand in hand with Jimmy through the white-out. Even the desert wasn’t spared from the stirring storm.

A broken line of lights were ascending up Monopoly Mountain, all headed to the same meeting.

When everyone had arrived, warm drinks were passed around. Cleo, Bdubs, Tango, Scott, Jimmy, Grian, and the resident Enderman were huddled in the living area.

Scott was biting his nails, so to speak. He was pretty sure he knew what they were there for; and he was not excited. He sat next to Jimmy and begged that the Red Desert wasn’t going to start a war with Dogwarts. It was going to happen sooner or later, everyone knew that, but Scott felt an ounce of selfishness.

Things were going so well.

He was starting to feel like he was on the wrong side of history. Sitting in that room, Scott had been to Dogwarts after Grain and Scar had tried to burn Skiz’s banner. He was in the room when they started talking about war; and here he was again. In a room talking about war.

He was there for quiet conversations about nonstop threats from Scar and Grian, how they were going to protect themselves, and questioning why it had to be them.

Pizza was dead. The air was unstable, everyone could feel it.

Scar began talking about a plan to trap the Sand Castle. Grian was confident that their new bunker would protect them well enough and had even started moving their things out. Dogwarts was to be baited into the castle where Scar would be waiting for them, to pull the trigger and blow the entire building to smithereens with the Red Army inside.

The thought of it made Scott’s insides turn. He’d already jeopardized his entire mission by falling for Dogwarts, becoming their friend when he was supposed to hate them, he kicked up the dirt when he suggested that Etho’s house was flammable, another slip up and the house of cards he’d built could be pulled down around him.

The whole meeting Scott just sat on the couch feeling sick. Too cowardly to say it was wrong. When he knew it was wrong. Like always, he let someone else steer his life for him. Scott watched as everyone agreed and started leaving. A feeling of distance fell upon him as he walked back home, Jimmy in the lead this time.

Tomorrow. He only had until tomorrow to decide whose side he was on. Scott stared at the ceiling in bed, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing a second of sleep when his pager started beeping. Already knowing who it was, Scott quietly left the house once more.

Dogwarts was eerily silent on top, but a quiet conversation emitted from the living quarters. Every member was sat around the room conversing with each other about their plan of attack. Tango shot him a glance when he entered the room, his eyes went wide and he excused himself from his conversation with Joel.

“Scott?” He whispered scoldingly when he was close enough, shoving the other to the most empty side of the room.

“I can’t do this Tango, I’m telling them,” Scott whispered.

“What? No, no, no, you can’t back out now! My god- Scott how could you even come here?” Tango hissed through his teeth.

“This is wrong! You know it’s wrong! I can’t just stand by anymore, I can’t do this to them,” Scott tried to keep his composure. He pleaded.

“And what about the others? What about you? Us?” Tango asked, his face was pale.

Scott closed his eyes, he’d done everything in his power to give as little information as he could about the Red Desert Alliance to Dogwarts. He wanted to protect people, of course, but he knew there was no escaping the war. Even if he didn’t say anything tonight. Something would happen tomorrow.

His friends were wrong, he’d grown enough to see that.

“I’m sorry,” he said, drowning out the lump in his throat and turning away from Tango, who yanked his sleeve in a last ditch effort. It was too late.

Scott strode over to Ren, tapping him on the shoulder. The Red King looked down, dismissing Etho and addressing Scott.

“Hey dude,” he greeted.

Scott’s hands shook as he formulated his admission, “The Red Desert is going to war with you tomorrow,” he said. Plain and simple.

The horrific shock on Tango and Impulse’s faces could easily be read as concern for the Red Army.

Scott felt like he shrunk to the size of an atom as everyone took turns looking at each other. Ren brought a steady hand to his chin, resting it on his knuckles in thought. The lights glared pure white off his glasses.

He walked to the table in the middle of the room and gazed upon the map, leaning over it to ponder. Scott fell back against the wall, his heart was pounding in his ears. He wasn’t even paying attention when Ren started firing off about their plan of action.

He wasn’t listening when Tango yelled at him on the way home. All he could think about was what the hell he was going to do now.

The jig was certainly going to be up tomorrow. Someone was going to be accused of spying, and when one of them went down, so would the rest.

What would Jimmy think of him? Should he just come clean? Admit to joining the Red Army on accident and let him figure out how he felt about it?

It didn’t matter. Scott had three hours to rest his eyes, and spend possibly the last peaceful night he would ever have with his husband.

The morning was spent mostly in silence. Scott gathered his weapons and stocked his arsenal with potions. He stared at the wall and went over the situation in his head. Preparing goodbyes, apology speeches, everything he could think of that might go wrong.

“Hey,” Jimmy came up behind him, taking a fire resistant potion out of his hand, “I was scared you were gonna drop it if you floated away any further,” he sat down on the workbench.

“Are you scared?” he asked, taking Scott’s hand and interlocking their fingers.

Scott closed his eyes, leaning his head on Jimmy’s shoulder. He nodded his head, not in the mood to lie.

“So am I,” Jimmy confessed, “just promise me something?” he tucked Scott’s stray hairs behind his ears.

“No goodbyes,” he said. As if he was swearing it into existence.

Scott nodded, doing his best to smile optimistically. He held out his pinkie finger in a gesture of promise. Jimmy hooked his own pinkie around it and shook it a bit, leaning forwards to touch foreheads with the other before leaving to get his armor.

They left at dawn and shivered all the way to the Red Desert. It was exceptionally cold that morning. Like the weather was also fighting in their war. A small group of people was gathered at the bottom of Monopoly Mountain. Most of them were sat sharpening their weapons and counting their arrows. Scott spotted Tango and shot him the most apologetic look he could manage before excusing himself to talk to him.

“Tango,” Scott started.

“You know they’re going to be here any second,” Tango said, “so why don’t you tell us about the plan like you did for them?”

Scott was making his mind up about what he should say when an arrow shot into the sand near his feet. He looked up, scanning the tree line.

It was too late.

Everyone gathered on the sand snapped to attention, drawing their weapons and forming a group opposite to the Red Army. Scar was shaking his head, asking himself how this could happen. Scott walked wearily to the frontlines, his free hand was taken by Jimmy.

Everyone in the Red Desert looked at each other, then Scar raised his bow, and that was it.

Scott was jumped by Impulse. Better him than anyone else, even if his blows were a bit harder due to bitterness. They went back and forth stealing glances at the rest of the battle where a few mounds had been constructed to hide behind.

Impulse kicked Scott onto his back and kneeled on his stomach, taking his air. He leaned in, sparing nervous glances to their surroundings.

“I hope you got your fill of righteousness,” he hissed.

Scott gasped for air, “this was going to happen whether I had a part in it or not,” he said.

“How could you?!” Impulse shouted, but whatever else he was going to say was stolen when Bdubs rushed him from the side, throwing both of them off of Scott and into their own cloud of dust.

Scott breathed in a lung full of dust and rolled over, stumbling to his feet and spinning around to gauge the battle. It was a blur. His mind flew to looking for Jimmy. Someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind a shield, where a stray arrow plunged into the wood.

“Where is Grian?” Tango shook Scott’s arm, sweat was rolling down his face through a coat of brown dust.

“I don’t know! I haven’t seen him since..” Scott froze.

Tango seemed to read the pallid expression on his face and nodded encouragingly.

Scott didn’t finish his sentence. He threw himself to his feet and sprinted across the battlefield, towards the border of the desert. A series of blueprints he’d seen all those weeks ago flashed through his head as he ran. Dodging arrows and slamming into his fellow server mates.

Finally, he rounded a barricade and saw what he was hoping not to see. A few hundred yards away, Scar was taking Ren and Martyn in battle. Inching ever closer to a disarmingly empty plot of land. Scott knew that if you weren’t aware, you’d barely be able to see the tiny windows sticking out of the sand.

“Scar!” he called out.

Nobody heard him.

Even if they did, there was no time.

The ground under his feet rumbled, causing him to drop his weapon before a flash of pure light pierced the air. He heard screams for a moment, but they were quickly drowned out by a wall of fire ejecting itself from the ground. Scott was knocked off his feet and launched through the air.

He hit the ground with a painful thud, but he didn’t come to a stop until he’d bounced head over heels a few feet further.

Scott’s nose was pressed into the ground as he rolled around in pain. He pushed himself to his knees with shaking arms.

In front of him was a gigantic, jagged crater carved into the ground. Smoke and fire billowed from its crude maw. Scott coughed and tried to wave away the suffocating ash to no avail. It permeated his eyes and throat.

Scott realized he had been rendered deaf for the moment, and partially blind for that matter. He struggled to his feet and outstretched his arms for balance, falling over twice before his purchase returned to him.

Someone grabbed his arms from behind and spun him around, touching his face and holding him up steadily.

“I can’t hear!” Scott shouted, pointing to his ears in case whoever it was didn’t understand him.

“Can’t see you,” he pointed at his eyes and then at where he assumed the person was.

The person took his hand and formed it into a fist, then interlocked their pinkie with his own.

“Jimmy?” Scott asked, he rubbed his eyes but his hands were taken away. Jimmy positioned his face gently and he felt water in his eyes, washing away the charred debris.

His vision returned to him as the stinging in his eyes subsided. Not so much the same for his hearing, but that was okay. Jimmy hugged him close and looked him over one more time, before tracing the word “stay” on Scott’s palm.

Scott nodded, watching the other go off into the smoke. Probably to help people.

Something moved in his peripheral vision. Through the black smoke came a figure. Scott recognized it as Scar. He was climbing out of the crater. His movements looked painful, he was dragging something behind him.

It became apparent when he hoisted the object over the edge of the crater that Scar was dragging a limp Grian behind him. He laid the other out on the sand, hovering over him with concern etched on his face.

Scott crawled over, shouting to see if Scar could hear him. He pointed at his ears and shook his head. Scott wished he knew human sign language.

Scar turned his attention back to attempting to wake Grian, who wasn’t moving. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. Sensing that Scar was beginning to get very upset, Scott told him to sit back.

First he tried patting Grian on the chest, tapping his forehead, then observing him for any sign of breathing. His lips weren’t blue yet, he was still alive. Scott took his fist and pressed it deeply into Grian’s sternum, then firmly rubbed up and down.

Grian didn’t move at first, then his eyes flew open under his cracked glasses. His arms shot up to cover his chest and he cursed profusely at how he’d been woken up. He’d probably have a bruise for a while.

Scott motioned for him to calm down and breathe. Count to ten and back, and so on. Grian followed his instructions, wiping the dirt from his face and off his probably useless glasses.

Once he was sure Grian and Scar were fine, he quietly excused himself. The dust has started to clear now and the silhouettes of Dogwarts and the Red Desert alike were milling around, nobody seemed to be fighting anymore. Presumably lost without their respective captains. Scott’s ears has started ringing, and behind the din he could hear the ghosts of people shouting.

Scott idly counted the people around him. Some were huddled over a hastily constructed furnace attempting to brew last minute healing potions. As he counted, he kept coming up short. He counted again, and again. Every time there were two people missing.

He turned back to the crater. Whose smoke had started dissipating into the sky. He knew who was missing, and as he stared into the gaping wound of the earth, a hand reached up to the sky. Then came down on the jagged cliff, pulling the rest of the body to the surface.

Ren fell in a heap at the edge of the hole. Breathing hard from his journey to the top. Scott didn’t know whether or not to offer him help. His sunglasses were nowhere to be found, probably crunched beneath the debris of the bunker and the rest of the desert, and he was covered in a layer of collateral grime. It painted his clothes black and made his yellow eyes stand out.

He pushed himself to his knees with a lot of trouble, scanning the destroyed battle field with a mirthful expression until his gaze fell on Scott. The way in which they locked eyes made Scott flinch, he was in big trouble.

His mind told him he needed to diffuse the situation, but he was still without most of his hearing. It would be even harder if Ren had also been deafened. A familiar “why me” rang through his head. The urge to just leave and call everything quits nagged at him.

Ren stood on shaking legs and made his way, as quick as he could manage, into Scott’s personal space, who backed away; but he yanked his arm.

He stared talking very fast. Scott saw his mouth move but barely any noise actually processed in his mind. Scott shouted as clearly as he could that he couldn’t hear. Throwing in a few sorry’s as he went.

Ren dragged his hands from the tips of his ears down his face in frustration, his fingertips left smudges on his cheeks and over his eyes. He began doing sign language, but Scott shook his head.

By now a small congregation of people had started observing the argument from a distance. All of them more privy to what Ren was mad about than Scott was. Heat rose to his face in embarrassment as he tried to talk over Ren, trying to explain himself. Ren had started yelling as if it would help, and the argument was getting visibly heated when Jimmy stepped in.

He pushed Ren back with force so that he stumbled. This seemed to cause a chain reaction. Ren shoved Jimmy back, and they went back and forth until Jimmy threw a punch.

Scott attempt to make them stop, he came between them and ordered them to calm down, but tensions were far too high for any de-escalating. His emotions were verging on a serious breakdown, frantically begging the fight to stop. To let him explain.

Nobody heard him. If they did, they didn’t care.

Ren had taken out his damaged axe and started swinging.

Jimmy kicked Ren in the stomach, the ladder fell on his back and Jimmy kicked him again.

“Jimmy stop it!” Scott shouted, and he could almost hear himself.

Jimmy looked up at him, still standing over the Red King. His eyes were furious.

Something passed quickly in Scott’s periphery, so he turned around.

Behind him, one foot still propping himself out of the crater, was Martyn. A freshly shot bow still aimed in front of him. His eyes were dark and angry as he stared right past Scott.

Scott turned back to Jimmy, whose eyes were fixed and frozen on Martyn. He staggered back, looking down at his chest where a poisoned arrow had pierced his battle-worn chest plate. His hand wrapped around the projectile, and as if he weren’t even thinking, he wrenched it from his flesh.

Jimmy’s expression read as shock. Right before his eyes rolled into his head and he fell like a load of bricks onto his knees, then his back. His fingers were still wrapped tightly around the arrow. Covered in a mixture of blood and sickly green poison.

He fell, and he stayed.

Scott didn’t have a second to process. Not even the thought to scream, reach out, or run came to him. A blanket of nauseating numbness draped itself around him. His mind left him as he stared helplessly. He watched as Jimmy’s lifeless body grew tendrils of thorny vines until it was consumed indefinitely. Only an arrow wrapped in rose vines remained. Light green flowers bloomed and waved in the wind.

And as if he were watching himself on a screen, Scott did something that he didn’t know he could do. That he had forgotten he could do.

A flash of light illuminated the livid grey sky.

Just as fast, Scott had approached Martyn, who didn’t have time to run. He didn’t have time to put his arms in front of his face as Scott’s hand curled into a fist.

He brought his knuckles down on the center of Martyn’s face, an audible crunch sounded out as he was knocked off his feet. A horrified expression painted itself on his face as he held his bleeding nose.

Scott raised his fist again, and as he did a string of dry lighting spread across the sky. He aimed again, and when his fist met Martyn’s face, a bolt of light shot down from the sky. It turned the world into a pure white canvas with an ear piercing roar.

In its wake was a blackened patch of burning sand. Scott and Martyn sat just as they had been before, but Martyn would not get up.

His body lay bruised and burnt, eyes closed tightly in pain. The rose vines claimed his remains quickly, wrapping around a pair of bloodied hands instead of an arrow this time.

Scott stayed bent over where his friend had been. Tears streamed down his face as the static disappeared from his ears. He ripped his arms out of the thorns which tore at his bandages. Blood permeated the wrappings, but he didn’t know how much was his.

He pushed himself away, kneeling in the grave he’d created.

“Major,” someone said, cold and angry.

A hand planted itself firmly on his shoulder, spinning him around forcefully. Scott had only a second to see that it was Ren, before he was hoisted up by the front of his shirt and thrown across creation. Landing hard on his ass for the second time that day. His shoulder made a nauseating POP, hanging limply and awkwardly at his side when he pushed himself up.

Ren placed his foot on his chest to keep him down.

Behind Ren, the greater alliance of Dogwarts had gathered. Confusion and betrayal was etched on their faces.

“Not a word, Major,” Ren said. Low and forced, his eyes were blown wide with something like fear.

Then he raised the handle of his broken axe over his head, the hilt made contact with Scott’s skull.

Lights out.

#me writing this was like no shawty don’t do that 😫#it’s almost midnight as i’m typing these tags pardon my unhingedness #kingslayer au #mcyt #mcytblr #3rd life smp #3rdlife #on god I really have to do all these characters tags #goodtimeswithscar #grian #scott smajor #solidarity gaming #impulsesv #tangotek #bdubbleo100 #zombie cleo

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