#cw: minecraft death | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

occatorcreator · 8 days

Text

Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

1 - Family Lost

Purple and his mother receive a grim diagnosis, and Purple struggles to find a cure to save his only living family member.

Content Warnings: Disease and Major Character Death

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Purple stared up at the clock that punctuated the silent waiting room with its ticking.

10:15 am. His morning elective class was close to wrapping up. He distantly thought that he should care about what he’ll miss at school, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than the hammering of the clock and how long he waited for a response.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

He looked from the clock to the door, waiting for a nurse to come and summon him. Right now, he had been in the hospital for over two hours and there hadn’t been any updates on his mother’s current condition.

If I had slept in, Purple thought, tapping his foot with anxious energy in time with the clock, would she not have made it?

The thing was, he almost had. He had almost shut his blaring alarm off and gone back to sleep. He really hadn’t been in the mood to go to school this morning; he was sure there was a test in math, and he wasn’t ready for it. School was… well, it had become more unpleasant since the divorce. Despite it being a year since Navy left, thoughts of the divorce sent his mind into a negative tailspin. All those times Navy ragged on him to wake up “bright and early” every day for routine exercise, and all those times he got annoyed by Purple’s fussing made him resent the idea of getting up at all.

He debated sleeping in to spite Navy, but what was the point of that? Not like Navy would show up to witness the spite. All that would come of sleeping in would be the omelets mom prepared growing cold. She was the only parent he had left now; he couldn’t let her down by being a brat about school.

And now he faced the possibility of having no parents… he found his mother fallen to the kitchen floor, unconscious, with the omelets burning.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Every second not knowing if Orchid was alright or dead drove Purple mad. He had driven as quickly as he could to the hospital and made enough of a scene in the emergency room to get her wheeled in right away. The doctors had escorted him to a nearby waiting room after they took Orchid to treatment, offering reassurance and describing some procedure they’re doing.

Knowing that barely worked to calm him down. Purple was no longer actively panicking, but he was fretting. He hated sitting. It was the inability to do anything but wait, unsure what the response would be, unable to take his mind off of anything but his prayers that things will be alright.

Tick tock. Tick- creak.

The door grabbed Purple’s attention. He stood up preemptively, ready to meet the nurse, only to blanch back as a giant orange stick figure ducked his way through the door frame. Clutching at his massive hand was a golden child, about four or five years old. He looked nervously around the room, sticking close to the orange stick’s leg.

“Just have a seat, Mr. Tango,” the nurse said. “We’ll call you when they’re done.”

The stick figure nodded at the nurse with a sour expression.

“Will Second be okay?” the child asked the nurse.

“Your older sibling will be fixed up,” the nurse said, smiling softly. “It’s just a minor fracture.”

And what about my mother? Purple wanted to ask. Is she going to be okay?

The question died on his tongue as Mr. Tango passed by him to take a seat. Purple instantly stepped back from the towering figure. By the time he and his child found a place to sit, the nurse had already left, shutting the door.

Great, still nothing, Purple thought, returning to his seat. He missed the prior solitude of the waiting room. With other stick figures around, he felt self conscious of his worrying. Not to mention, one of them was a small child. Purple wasn’t ready for the annoyance that would follow when that small child inevitably got bored and started wandering around, looking for things to do.

“Hello,” the child waved at Purple.

Purple took a deep breath, counted mentally to two, and looked at the child standing before him with what he hoped was a neutral expression.

“Hi,” he greeted half-heartedly.

The child tapped his hands together nervously, eyes looking down at Purple’s feet upon the less-than warm response. Somehow his sour mood didn’t send the kid crawling to his parent, which made Purple raise an eyebrow.

��What do you want?” Purple asked, baring his teeth in a false grin.

“Um, can I have that?” The child asked, pointing at the table filled with magazines.

Purple waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not using it, and you don’t need to ask. Just take it.”

The child brightened and grabbed a magazine. He retreated back to sit by his father, who’s cold gaze regarded Purple in a way that made Purple’s skin crawl. The giant’s gaze reminded him of Navy’s.

Specifically, the day Navy left. He could never forget that cold and guarded stare despite Orchid’s best attempts to shield them from him.

“I guess this is it, then,” Navy said, “I’m leaving.”

Don’t think about him, Purple mentally scolded, closing his eyes to refocus on the present.

With nothing else to get his mind off of the past and present situation, he watched as the child flipped through the magazine. It didn’t take long for the child to realize that magazines were mostly advertisements and boring articles he couldn’t read before he placed it to the side. He caught that Purple was looking at him, and Purple failed to look away in time.

“My sibby broke their thumb.”

Sibby? Purple didn’t know how to comment on that odd shorthand for sibling.

“Ah…How did that happen?” It took Purple a full second before he found his voice. He got the feeling the kid was a bit of a chatterbox, how unfortunate. Purple had no desire to talk, but he felt like he couldn’t stay silent either.

Maybe this could get his mind off of things...

“My dad had a day off, took me and Second in the park,” the child said, “We did lots of fun stuff and it was really nice out. We were playing truth or dare, and I dared Second to punch a tree!”

He looked expectantly, waiting for Purple to supply a question. Yet when Purple only bothered with a raised eyebrow, Mr. Tango cleared his throat.

“You two didn’t answer why you did that in the first place, Gold,” Mr. Tango said.

The child — Gold — looked down at his dangling legs, ashamed. “It’s cuz Sec’s as strong as you, dad.” Gold said, “I wanted to see if they could punch a hole in the tree.”

Punch a hole in a tree? Ridiculous. Purple scoffed.

“Still. Punching things without the proper technique can be dangerous,” Mr. Tango said. “I hope you two don’t do that again in the future.”

“We won’t, dad,” Gold said.

Again, Mr. Tango reminded Purple of Navy. That comment was a straight-out warning he said during sparring lessons. His father drilled in many basics on keeping yourself from breaking your arm while fighting. Having that reminder of his father again, combined with the ludicrousness of the child’s story, and the fact they were in the hospital over something so stupid made Purple surly.

“Let me guess,” Purple said, “your sibling was dumb enough to tuck their thumb in their fist while punching?”

That was harsh. Now both father and son were glaring at Purple. Purple could feel his heart hammering, desire to cower and apologize strong, but not strong enough to overcome anger brought on from constant fatigue and stress.

“Second’s not dumb!” Gold snapped. “They just didn’t know they needed to do that.”

Purple shrugged. “Sounds like the definition of dumb to me,” Purple said, “I mean tucking your thumb in is unnatural and uncomfortable, so why do that?”

“Not everyone comes into the world knowing everything there is to know,” Mr. Tango warned, “and I don’t care much for you insulting someone you hardly know.”

Mr. Tango said it with a threatening, low tone that made Purple reconsider and apologize for his meanness.

Almost. He might have, had Gold kept his mouth shut.

“They managed to knock the tree down in one hit even when doing it wrong!” Gold bragged. “I bet you can’t do that!”

Inadvertently, Gold managed to hit a sore point for Purple. Orchid and Navy both were prolific fighters in their prime, strong and agile enough to break wood and cinder blocks with a well placed hit. Purple knew it could be done, but he was never strong enough, never fast enough to do it. All he got was painful bruising and a sprain so awful he gave up trying.

And given today, Purple’s fuse was short.

“You little liar,” Purple snapped, “no one can do that.”

“I’m not!” Gold balked, and he tugged on Mr. Tango’s arm. “Dad, you saw it too! Tell him! Second did punch a tree down!”

But there was a split second of hesitation in Mr. Tango’s gaze, that moment of doubt and skepticism. Before he had the chance to defend his son, Purple pounced.

“If your dad claims that, then he’s helping a liar,” Purple said, “I thought preschool taught you better than to make up stories for attention.”

“I’m not! I’m not! I’m not!” Gold yelled, and Purple saw that the child was so worked up that tears were forming in his eyes. “I’m not a liar!”

“What is your problem?” Mr. Tango snapped, standing up tall to get between Gold and Purple. He didn’t yell like Purple did, but clearly didn’t hide his anger. “You have no right to talk to my son like that.”

“Maybe if you didn’t want me to yell at your liar of a kid,” Purple snapped, standing back up, “then you should have parented better.”

“Excuse me?”

Purple stood up. He was a pipsqueak to the massive stick figure before him, his limbs shaking from fear and rage both.

“I’m just saying, a kid who broke his wrist punching trees and one that makes up tall tales to strangers reflects poorly on you.” Purple said, “My parents wouldn’t hear me spouting such nonsense.”

“Where are they?” Mr. Tango asked, grinning without any joy. “I would like to talk with them about their parenting skills if they could raise someone who’d yell at children for little reason.”

To that Purple had no response.

Oh creator, what would mom think of me right now? Purple thought, visibly deflating and stared at the ground in shame.

Now the only sound there was the clocks ticking and Gold crying. Seeing no fight left in Purple, Mr. Tango sat down and started to console his child. Gold buried his head in his father’s chest, weeping and insisting he wasn’t a liar.

Creak

“Purple?” A nurse came in with a clipboard.

“Yes?” Purple straightened himself up. “Is she ready?”

“She is,” the nurse nodded, his expression appearing grim despite his smile. “She wants to talk to you.”

Oh, good she’s awake, Purple thought, but still… the dread in his stomach grew. Why is the nurse looking at me like that if she’s awake?

“Okay. Take me to her.”

He followed the nurse out, ignoring the pressing glares of Mr. Tango and Gold following him out.

“Rapid aging syndrome?”

Purple sat by Orchid’s beside, holding her hand. Orchid was looking rather pale and frail, but she was alive. The doctors managed to stabilize her.

But only stabilize; there was no cure for this condition.

“Yes,” Orchid said, “Explains a lot of things, like why I didn’t have the same stamina as your father even though we’re the same age.”

She said it with light airiness that nearly made Purple cry.

“But, this is a glitch in your programming, right?” Purple said, clearing his throat, “couldn’t they patch you?”

To that Orchid let out a shaky sigh and patted Purple’s hand. Purple noticed the faint tremor in her hands.

“They found out that they can’t,” Orchid said, plainly.

“Why not,” Purple asked, voice rising. “They’re doctors! Expert coders! They have to fix you! What sort of doctors would they be if they couldn’t?”

“It’s not that simple, honey,” Orchid hushed, “They discovered that my code’s corrupted. The fact they could stabilize me without losing my memories was a miracle in it of itself.”

“Surely, there’s a way around corruption,” Purple begged, “You mean to tell me they can’t stop you from just… aging to death?”

Orchid didn’t say anything at first. She looked up at the ceiling with an inscrutable expression. In that moment, Purple wondered how well she was taking the news that she was given a terrible death sentence, aging at an insanely rapid rate until she shriveled up to a husk. Looking at her now, all the marks Purple blamed on exhaustion or loss of appetite were the tell-tale signs of becoming an elder.

“The doctors gave me two choices,” Orchid said after a moment, “Either I would have 5 months left to live, or they would reset me.” She then turned to Purple. “And reset means full reset. My age, all of my memories… I would be as I was created, as my 18 year old self. I wouldn’t even recognize you as my son anymore. Even with that, I could still be… lost to a reset. There is no guarantee to save me.” Her expression turned pained. “You know which one I had to choose.”

“That’s so f-messed up,” Purple caught himself. But he wished he could swear. How could anyone sugarcoat that?

“The doctors will want to discuss care options in light of my condition,” Orchid said, “having nurses to care for me at home, or placing me in hospice care.”

“But we don’t have the money for a live-in nurse,” Purple pointed out quietly.

Orchid hummed in agreement. “And I don’t want to be moved to hospice care if I can still stand and walk.”

“I could care for you,” Purple offered. “Take off school for a bit-“

“I don’t want to place you in that position,” Orchid waved her hand, “and your education would suffer for it.“

“Mom, I’ll be blunt, my education has already suffered from… Navy leaving.” Purple couldn’t even say the divorce to her, “I won’t be able to focus on shoring up what’s left of my education knowing that your… that you're going to…”

He couldn’t say that either. He shan’t say it, or else he made it true. He didn’t want it to be true.

“Fair point…” Orchid muttered. She placed her hand on her chin and hummed. “There is always my creator,” Orchid paused, “I still have her email address, and I occasionally send her updates. We could stay with her for a while.”

“An actual human? With a desktop?” Purple asked. “Is it even possible for us to go there?”

Orchid nodded. “I’m certain something can be arranged once I reach out to my lawyer and get my affairs in order.”

“Don’t say that, mom,” Purple shook his head.

“I’m afraid we don’t have many options,” Orchid said, “Plus, it would be nice to take you to our childhood home.”

Our? Purple thought, You mean, dad also grew up on that computer?

Purple wasn’t sure about going on a human’s computer with all the risks, but like Orchid said, it wasn’t like there was any better options they could take.

I’ll find something to save you from this fate, mom, he thought, I promise.

Purple kept this vow deep in his heart as the doctors returned.

Her name was Alana, and, despite his mom promising to take him to her childhood home, she clearly owned the latest Apple Macintosh. Alana was nice, nicer than what Purple expected of a human from his history class, and she welcomed Orchid and Purple upon their arrival through her email. They had to write out words on the email in order to communicate with her, but Purple learned he didn’t need to talk with Alana often. She was present for the first two days to ensure they settled on the desktop, before just disappearing and leaving them to their own devices for days on end.

Orchid explained most of the situation to Alana. She wasn’t fully candid about her diagnosis, but she shared that Purple was her and Navy’s son, and that they needed a place to stay in the meantime.

Alana asked only one question. “What happened to Navy?”

The awkward silence and body language from both Orchid and Purple told enough for Alana to discern something happened, but she didn’t feel the need to press.

Living on a desktop was a new experience, one Orchid was happy to guide Purple on.

“Ah, they updated so many things!” Orchid said in awe, “You’re getting a better experience than I did. The desktop is so lovely!”

She leaned down to press a button. It was the finder, and it opened up a series of apps. However, she let out a groan of pain as she struggled to stand back up.

“Careful!” Purple said, lifting her up, “you know you can’t move like you used to.”

Orchid looked forlornly at what she opened, rubbing her back. Stacks of icons stretched above her without any easy way to traverse them.

“Right. Climbing would be your strong suit, you have to do that a lot on a desktop,” she said, half muttering as the advice she gave came with a realization of her condition. That her body was too old to navigate something that she had done in her youth.

Purple had to watch her as that condition worsened overtime.

Not that Purple was idle during this time. He set to work making the desktop space more accommodating for an elder. He found Flash and constructed a crude house with the pencil tool. The linework wasn’t the neatest, but it was convenient, light enough for him to pick up the house and set it down, but sturdy enough that a punch wouldn’t knock it down.

He tried looking around for Orchid and Navy’s files. After all, if they were made, then that means there had to be backup copies somewhere around. Surely, Alana transferred their files to the new computer, there had to be something to counter the apparent corruption.

“Purple, please don’t be going into Alana’s files,” Orchid warned.

Purple nearly fell off the top of the directory, not expecting to hear her voice. It started to croak with age, a tremor of strain she didn’t use to have. She leaned on a crude cane Purple drew to help support herself. He hastily went down so she didn’t have to call him.

“I’m not doing anything shady,” Purple insisted, “I was hoping to find… something.”

Orchid gave him a look. A look he knew too well when she suspected Purple was up to one of his antics. He received that look a lot whenever the school called about his moments of less-than-stellar behavior.

But as quickly as it appeared, it fell. “Look, I’m just warning you, if you poke around in her files and break it, she will be incredibly upset and hurt by that,” she chuckled lightly, “I’m speaking from experience here. Navy and I regretted how we clowned around back in the day.”

You? A trouble maker? Purple couldn’t help but smirk at the idea of Orchid, roughly around his age, causing trouble for her creator. But the smirk faded when that image contrasted the frail stick figure before him.

“Why did Alana… make the both of you?” Purple asked.

Orchid blinked, not expecting the question. She fiddled with her cane, nails gently scraping against its side.

“I don’t know. Flash animation was new and there was a genre of animation that featured fighting stick figures beginning to form. I supposed Alana wanted to add a battle couple, but I couldn’t be certain.”

Purple’s face curled at the thought. “Like she made you two to be a couple?”

“Not like that, she made us to be a team,” Orchid’s smile looked forlorn and she looked elsewhere, “the love came later.”

Purple shuffled awkwardly, knowing how that “love” ended for them all. “Why did you two leave the computer?”

“Stick City was new, and we both wanted to strike it on our own,” Orchid explained, “we wanted to be famous, and we didn’t feel like we could if we stayed on a desktop.” She let out a huff. “How funny that I ended up back here after all this time.”

“It’s not.”

“Well, Purple, I’d rather you not go poking around and getting into trouble.” Orchid placed her hand on Purple’s shoulder. “Come. I can show you some games on the Mac you can play in the meantime.”

“Games?”

“Yes, I know I can’t play the ones that are more active, but I don’t want that to stop you from experiencing the fun you can have on a desktop,” she said, “it’s way more immersive.”

Purple opened his mouth to argue something, before closing it and nodding.

I really can’t go against her wishes now, Purple thought, besides, there are healing items in games, maybe I can find something to fix her?

“What do you recommend I try, mom?” he asked.

Time moved too quickly for Purple’s liking. He did as much as he could in his investigation of the games on Alana’s computer. Some of the games were fun, but ultimately useless to his main goal. Others had healing items he had to buy from a vendor or could collect in chests. He gave these to Orchid, yet the most they did was ease her aching joints.

He found Minecraft through his investigation and it, too, had healing items that didn’t work. Yet, the game was fun, intriguing enough for even Orchid to join in on the fun. He found himself simply just building things with Orchid out of the simple blocks provided in creative mode. They began to build a foundation of a castle, but in time, only Purple was able to build the castle. When that happened, he abandoned construction to refocus his efforts in finding a cure.

Orchid was visibly getting older and weaker every passing day. She walked slower, leaned on her cane more often, and complained of pain in her bones. Vision and hearing were going, and Purple had to draw her glasses and hearing aides to help her.

Nothing was working. He tried experimenting with healing items he found: mixing it into her food, combining it with other mechanics, and even breaking into a game’s code to see if there was anything he could pull. All his efforts did was ease the burdens of aging. He could not cure nor save Orchid from her fate.

Eventually, Orchid became too weak to even leave her bed. Purple was torn between wanting to stay by her side and care for her or leaving to find something he possibly overlooked. He settled for spawning a villager from an egg to be her nurse while he stepped away. But walking away was difficult; he felt every hour he was away was the hour he came back to find her…

He came crawling back with nothing to show for it.

“Is there anything in your game that can stop this?” Purple asked the villager, one night after he returned. “To stop her from dying?”

The villager looked around, unsure if Purple was genuinely engaging with them or speaking out loud to himself. When Purple remained silent, the villager felt like they needed to respond.

“I don’t know,” they admitted, “I haven’t heard of anything like that.”

“You do realize you don’t age, right?” Purple continued. “You and every video game character are just frozen, as you are. You don’t have to worry about growing old, leaving your kids and loved ones behind...”

“That’s not…” the villager trailed off when he met Purple’s cold stare. “It’s not that simple..”

“Seems pretty simple to me. You, a computer program, live on, while us stick figures, also computer programs, grow old and die. How unfair is that?” Purple muttered. “I ask again. Is there anything in this stupid game that can make her ageless like you?”

The villager shook his head and took a step back. Something was in Purple’s voice that deeply frightened the sniveling NPC. And for a moment, Purple thought of pulling out his sword and stabbing the villager for his unhelpfulness.

After all they were only ageless, not immortal. Weak.

He walked away from the villager, but those horrid thoughts followed him.

“What’s happening to Orchid?”

Alana logged on to find her desktop disheveled: a half finished castle from Minecraft, a crude house with a crude bed where Orchid lay in it. She must look so bad that even a human could see it on the screen.

Purple stayed by her side, unable to sleep, and stared blankly at the writing above him. He dared not grab the pen he used to write, he didn’t want to get up and leave his mother’s side.

It had been five months. Her time was almost up, and all his efforts to stop it amounted to nothing.

The cursor moved down and Purple placed himself between it and his mother.

“Don’t!” he said, splaying his hand out. He knew Alana couldn’t hear, but he spoke anyway. “She’s very fragile.”

“Is that Alana?” Orchid croaked.

Her feeble, weak voice broke Purple’s heart to hear. Her glasses were off to the side, but she didn’t reach for them.

“Yes, it’s her.”

“Ah, I'm glad,” Orchid said, “I worried… I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.”

“No, no mom, you don’t have to,” Purple said, clinging to her hands. “There- I’m still searching for a cure- I can-“

“Shh,” Orchid placed her hand on his cheek, stilling him. “No, Purple, honey. My time is up. And I don’t want to see you wasting your time searching for a cure that doesn’t exist.”

“But I can’t give up, not now,” Purple shook his head. Her face began to blur and hot tears streaked down his face. “I don’t want you to leave me. Stay here. Please.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” Orchid coughed, “I want to be with you… but I don’t want you to suffer for my sake.”

She wiped his tears with her shaking, wrinkled hands. A pointless endeavor, for Purple could not stop sobbing.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Purple choked, holding her hand.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Purple,” Orchid said. Her hand slackened to her side and eyes closed. “Promise me something, Purple?”

“What?” Purple leaned in. “What do you need me to do?”

There was a beat of silence, just the raspy rise and fall of her chest.

“Promise me that you'll…” Orchid whispered so faintly, every word laborious. “Promise me you’ll… take good care of yourself… that you’ll find someone-” She broke off into coughing.

“Hush, hush. Of course, of course I will.” Purple said and hugged Orchid. “I promise.”

Orchid didn’t return the hug, too weak to do so.

“I love you,” she wheezed.

Then, she let out a shuddering gasp and fell limp within his arms.

“Mom?” Purple pried away, staring at her gaunt face, eyes closed. He saw that she was becoming translucent, fading away like a spirit.

“Mom? Please…”

Then there was nothing, just him clinging to the blankets. All that Orchid was became nothing now. Not a trace of her was left, except her scent and his memories.

And with that he wept openly into the empty bed while Alana wordlessly hovered above.

#occatorart #alan becker #animator vs animation #animator vs minecraft #second family au #cw death #ava purple #ava orchid #ava king #ava gold #cw disease #existential dread

191 notes · View notes

enden-agolor · 1 year

Text

his name is jesse minecraft thank you very much

#i love him i love to think about him #mcsm #minecraft #minecraft story mode #mcsm jesse #mcsm lukas #my art #cw animal death #???#yes

501 notes · View notes

scribbiesan · 8 months

Text

In my defense , I was left unsupervised

I also have the full comic not cut into pieces, and imma reblog this with the full comic just for funsies. I’ll be making another one after this, so it doesn’t make me sad.

Herobrine is fully immortal, and can’t really age, nor can he die right. But Steve can. He can grow old, and get blown up, and eaten by zombies and burned by lava and… well you get the picture.

Wanted Hero to have some happy memories during his long long existence.

Was listening to Siljan by Astrid Everdahl and it sounds like something for a cute moment, but it turned to angst for me.

Hope you enjoy!! Toodles!~

160 notes · View notes

fredmcsm · 3 months

Text

*Checks Watch* That time of the year again is it…

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #my art #romeo mcsm #fred mcsm #tw blood #tw gore #tw death #cw blood #cw gore #cw death #soz mcsm im neglecting it not really hyperfixed anymore.Sad

59 notes · View notes

dark-cynder49 · 8 months

Text

One’s Volatile Shattered Urges

Deleted Au Comic ft. Blue

Ever wonder why Deleted Red only has one animal…?

(CW: Alcohol, Blood, Implied Animal death)

#alan becker #animation vs minecraft #animation vs animator #avm blue #avm yellow #avm green #deleted au #deleted radio au #cw violence #cw alcohol #cw animal death

90 notes · View notes

grackles-hoard · 7 days

Text

After Steve helps Herobrine escape, they write to each other. Slowly, Herobrine writes back less, until years pass in silence.

Steve grows bitter at the idea that Herobrine just forgot about him— about them. He moves around a lot, finding a good patch of land and rebuilding his house. He gets some sheep, has a small wolf problem, but nothing unmanageable.

One night, there’s a commotion from the barn, heard from within the home. Ginger is just one mare, and with the lamb season coming, wolves have been getting bolder.

Steve shoulders a sword and lights a lantern, ready to tear into the wolves that prowl after his flock— when upon opening the barn door, he sees him. Skinner, with new scars and his prized ewe’s innards in his mouth.

He sees what remains of Herobrine.

#cw animal death #cw blood #art #minecraft #herobrine minecraft #herobrine #steve minecraft #herobrine x steve #herosteve

29 notes · View notes

stiffyck · 3 months

Note

Hello allow me to share my silly convex thoughts!

So so so! You know how in AUs and stuff, Convex sometimes monch on each other to satisfy their need for player flesh? Well, what if that’s just… not possible? Eating another Vex does nothing for The Hunger, it has to be someone else….

Imagine the angst and comedy potential lol.

- Anon demon

OOOH I LOVE THAT.

i propose an idea: they eat corpses.

when someone dies they leave a corpse behind. so scar and cub will ask people for their corpses when they see someone died.

the hermits decided to profit off of this and they start selling their corpses to those two.

also i wanna mention thati have an au where scar is a vulture and since vultures are scavengers scar will notice a hermit isnt taking care of themself and he'll wait patiently till they drop dead from either dehydration or exhaustion or something.

the hermits start noticing and catching on and they use scar as a sorta reminder. when scar shows up and just starts watching you that means you need to take care of yourself because youre about to drop dead sikdfsdjkhf

its a good thing for the hermits, however scar is now without dinner.

#stiff talk #asks #cw cannibalism #tw cannibalism #cw death #its minecraft tho theyre all fine #they just respawn #but they do leave a body behind skjdhfsk #vulture scar #au rambles #gtws #cub

31 notes · View notes

out-of-context-minecraft · 1 year

Text

#minecraft #mineblr #out of context #submission #cw death

312 notes · View notes

jpdrawsalot · 9 months

Text

The hamster in my brain thinks of these MCD fellas often, so have some doodles of Zane, Garroth, Laurance, and Janus bc they spark joy

#my art #minecraft diaries #aphmau #mc diaries #aphmau diaries #zane ro'meave #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvahl #janus the silver death #cw body horror #jic bc jury form janus is a toothy boi #jury of nine #garrance #its implied. the sketch is a mockup for a keychain of them :]]]]

124 notes · View notes

tallsc · 1 year

Text

AvA Red Character Analysis

In AvA and AvM, it's common for the Color Gang to have an intuitive, almost mind-reading-level awareness of their friends in a fight, right? We've seen the masterful level of coordination between them all in tight situations, it's a skill all the sticks have. But I've noticed Red seems a little more intuitively aware of their friends than the others are, and that both leads to one of their greatest skills, along with what may be their greatest flaw.

Red might not be the best at building, or make the smartest decisions *coughmilkbucketclutchcough* but they are an incredibly quick thinker and can tell in just a moment what their friends need, to the level of seeming to gain skills by just interpreting what others need them to do.

Let's start with Monster School as an example for this. The way Red took charge wasn't to just do everything themselves, they would always quickly come up with a plan to help the monsters beat each challenge. Getting Enderman to attack Red, throwing Spider at Orange Team so they could all continue, even recognizing that Skeleton needed to use a bow in a different way to aim better. Red isn't even an archer, but they recognized in just a moment that Skeleton wasn't entirely bad at shooting, they just needed to use a bow differently than normal.

But hey, that might just be a stick thing, right? I did say before that all sticks were very good at intuitively recognizing other's needs. But no, Red continues to have this tendency to be a little quicker than the rest on other episodes too. There's a trend in a lot of the Animation Vs something-that-isn't-minecraft where, if someone (usually Orange) asks for something, Red's the first to understand and respond - shown by opening fullscreen in Vs Arcade Games and starting a new game in Vs League of Legends. Plus, speaking of arcade games, Red's not even good at these games but still was great at helping Yellow save Green in the Tetris section. Maybe they're just better at Tetris than they are at Breakout, but this seems like a bit of a trend.

There's more little examples I have in mind, but I think the point is across. Red's a quick thinker, and good at immediately recognizing what other people need them to do, so they're a very good support for their friends in a fight - no wonder their preferred weapon is a shield. But hey, at the start of this, I said this was also a flaw, right? All of this seems pretty helpful so far, so what is this flaw?

So, the problem with Red's skill is that they don't really realize that others aren't as good at adapting to abrupt changes as they are. This seems a little counterintuitive, but there's a difference between recognizing what people need them to do and recognizing how people feel, Red's very good at the former and sometimes not so great at the latter.

To explore this, let's go back to Monster School. While that episode was absolutely Red's time to shine, it also showed us this same flaw. At the last challenge, Red threw Spider off a cliff so they could use their webbing to get the Yellow Team in the air. While Red's plan did work out in the end, Red seemed to expect everyone to understand immediately, when none of the monsters actually did. Spider just panicked for a moment before catching themselves on the way down, while Enderman and Skeleton took it as a hostile action, which... is understandable, considering Red just threw their friend off a cliff. But Red didn't show any indication that they realized how their action looked to anyone else. They just expected the monsters to understand like Red would, casually waving them over instead of making any attempt to calm them down and explain.

Now, all of this together makes Red seem impulsive at a surface level, maybe a little rash and reckless. And yes, that is partially true, but it's also just that Red quickly forms ideas of what should be done about a situation, and expects their friends to catch on quickly and back them up. So they rush to start games, because after all, most of their friends like a good adventure, and it'll probably happen anyway. They spontaneously color all the block textures black and paint them, because it's faster than fixing them and will get Yellow out of trouble. They...

...rush into battle against a known enemy. Because they know a battle's inevitable. And they think their friends know that too.

This scene was always incredibly painful, but thinking about this analysis made it hit even harder. Red wasn't trying to be reckless, they just knew that Dark was a threat. They started the fight and expected their friends to follow and help too. But nobody did. Red acted a little too quickly, assumed a little too much, and died for it.

And they were gone before they saw their friends step in to help.

Well, if you read through all of this character ramble, thanks! I hope you enjoyed - well, idk if enjoyed is the right word considering that last part - but I hope you found this interesting at least. I really like making analyses like this (if you've also seen my Deltarune your-choices-don't-matter analysis too, you probably guessed) so I'm very likely going to make more.

Edit: 1 this has become so much more popular than I thought it would be, thank you so much everyone, 2 I have some commentary (and a drawing) relating to this analysis after episode 30 so here ^-^

#alan becker #animator vs animation #animation vs minecraft #red #yellow team #most of the other sticks too but they aren't as relevant in this discussion #analysis #cw death

367 notes · View notes

occatorcreator · 11 months

Note

just here for a simple request

(You don’t have to do this btw, especially if your hands are full! Don’t overwork yourself.)

some second family au

maybe angst?

have a good one

-a caring anon

Request Second Family AU angst and you shall receive second family au angst

Good never got the chance to outgrow Second…

#alan becker #animator vs animation #animator vs minecraft #occatorart #ava second coming #ava gold #cw death #tw death #art requests #second family au #jumping ahead but you get a taste of the angst coming for this au #and once again I made an au where second is depressed and gets new clothing

173 notes · View notes

ink-ghoul · 1 year

Note

but. but what about healing and respawn mechanic? (this whole conversation hurts my brain in so many places, thanks /j)

OMG I LOVE RESPAWN MECHANICS

Respawning is a granted gift given by the universe, because it loves you

It loves you so much it mends your wounds, places you nicely and carefully on your bed and gives you another chance to live your adventures

But there's only so much the universe can mend, heavy injuries will leave you scarred (or even a limb less), and some of them will require days of resting to fully heal

And respawing only heals the body, not the mind, the pain and trauma is still a real thing, at the end, survival isn't so much about avoiding death, but instead avoiding pain

Normal death leaves behind cloud of particles and your gear on the floor, hardcore death leaves a body for your loved ones to bury, or for the nature to reclaim

other considerations can include, ''what about your friends killing you for fun?'' depends on intent and tone of the server, who knows if they are running on cartoon or real logic, go on an decapitate your friends to make a collection of their heads

#ask #cattobee #minecraft worldbuilding #anything is better than being dead isn't it right?#cw: injury mention #cw: character death

194 notes · View notes

hermit-agere · 4 months

Text

After Scars win he gets so excited when pressing the succeed button he regresses. Grian would usually use the /kill command but he doesn't want to kill or hurt someone who is regressed.

Grian just entertains the little as a ghost and let's him ramble about how he won and how fun the game was.

When Scar tires himself out and falls asleep Grian finally uses the kill command and Scar wakes up very confused back on hermitcraft where Grian and Mumbo make sure to congratulate him and properly tuck him in for the night.

The next day the hermits throw him a big celebration party for his win!

#secret life spoilers #little scar #cg grian #cg mumbo #cw mentioned death #but its minecraft and death games so #cw death #hermit agere #mod 🧸

25 notes · View notes

the-martyrfication-of-the-matron · 4 months

Note

So in Lycoris Radiata you’ve mention how all the divine warriors had religions dedicated to them so like ceremonies ? Sacrifices ? Or temples ? I mean we kind of witness one of the werewolf cubs being sacrificed to the destroyer. Also you’ve done a very excellent job so far on the details of the different religions.

Tysmm!!! I do try :)

TW/CW: more adult themes mentioned, cannibalism, orgies are referenced at the end, menstruation mention, purposeful burning of oneself or a loved one, fantasy racism, religion talk, specific references to Christianity, animal/human sacrifices, mass death.

if there's anything i missed, please let me know

Worship of individual divine has slowly dwindled over time, still present but not as prevalent. Most divine worship has The Matron as the head of the religion, and treats them as a pantheon as opposed to singular entities. If someone worships a divine, they typically worship The Matron most of all, with the other divine being situational worship. This doesn’t apply to everyone, there are those who worship specific divine, mostly travelling Merchants who worship The Wanderer or scholars that worship The Keeper. In the years prior to LR, it was especially hindered by the introduction of a very eager High Priest.

Worship of The Destroyer is not considered to be an aspect of Divine worship. He is separated from all celebration of the saints, by those who worship him and those who don’t.

they're in colour order because i did it by accident at first and just went 'Fuck it'.

I also didn't proofread after, so... if anything doesn't make sense, whoops.

The Admirer

The admirer is a lesser-worshipped divine, unless done in conjunction with his wife and lover, The Matron. He is often prayed to by star-crossed lovers, or those faced with unrequited affections, in hopes that his blessing would will the pair together. He's also a favourite of incels, due to a number of reasons. Gene's very fond.

His temples are often smaller, held in the gardens of the Matron’s own churches, and most often he is worshipped at hastily built shrines and the statues of him with his other half. His temples are usually white marble pavillions, decorated with red roses and candles.

The concept of worship of him varies from place to place, some areas believing that newlyweds should consummate their marriages upon his altars in order to ensure fertility, others believing that individuals must sacrifice to him their pain, to suffer for their love as he suffered for his own. A more common practice is the burning of a piece of paper with one's lover's (or attempted lover) name written on it, to send a message to the saints for what they desire.

Most newlyweds under the faith of the Matron will kneel upon small, sharp pebbles as their wedding is officiated, in an homage to the tales that The Matron and the Admirer eloped whilst kneeling in the ruins of Scaleswind in the midst of the War. The couple will often keep a bloodied stone and pass it along to their children, as a way for their descendants to boast the strength and longevity of their lineage. Those who keep multiple stones are thought of as overly ambitious, and is usually only done by those of noble or lordly lineage.

Much of his history as a warrior has been lost in favour of the ‘knight in shining armour’ stereotype as The Matron’s lover. Even the creation of the Jury is presented as a gift to The Matron, instead of what it truly was. Only one statue of him presented as a warrior remains in Brightport, beside a statue of The Protector, within the halls of their Guard Academy.

The Matron

The Matron’s worship is often done in churches and Cathedrals, very heavy handed with the comparisons to Christianity lmao. Her religion is the main religion, so all of her laws apply to everyone else, regardless of who they believe in, but most of all they apply under the roof of her churches. Crimes that are ignored elsewhere are punishable by death in the houses of the Matron. because she'd dramatic. Her largest cathedral is in O'Khasis, though many of her followers pilgrimage to the cathedral in Scaleswind, due to it containing the only statues of her that were carved during her life.

Her religion holds no sacrifices, for it is believed that you must sacrifice yourself to her, devote your entire being to her, and so on. Plus, animal/person worship is very... old god-worship coded for them so they avoid it. Or at least they do in larger churches and communities.

Ceremonies are pretty vague, they wanted worship of her to be very ‘accessible’ and so they tried to avoid anything specific, in case certain cultures were turned away from the religion due to it’s practices conflicting with tradition. Ceremonies worship the coming of spring, with bright colours and loud music, the first birth of the season with a community-wide festival and the ‘blessing’ of the newborn with a name ‘chosen by the Matron’. Major life events are worshipped with some kind of song and dance, and decorative garb, but death is strictly avoided. There are private blessings, that’s all. There is nothing to worship in death to them, though back in the ye old days, death was celebrated by her worshippers most of all.

One celebration that is kept by smaller communities but not by larger ones, due to how 'distasteful' it is, is celebrating a period. It's a remnant from older times, and whilst larger communities that worship the Matron looks upon periods as disturbing or a sign of an empty womb, in smaller communities it is viewed as a sign of health. Malnutrition can shorten or even entirely remove the presence of a period, so in communities where food is in short supply, for someone to be so well fed is a blessing. An individual's first period is often given a little ceremony, and a sacrifice is made to 'reunite the blood of the person with the blood of The Mother'. Maybe a little weird, but fuck you, religion is funky as fuck (/aff)

The Protector

The Protector is one of the most worshipped Divine, as he is the patron of the Guards (formerly joined by The Admirer). Statues of him are erected in most cities, and his symbol is worn by most guards and lords as a means of protection.

He has temples in most major cities, though they are less common in communities without heaps of expendable wealth, and they are often kept near rivers, lakes and oceans, due to multiple of his stories relating back to water one way or another.

As for sacrifices to him, they are most often items of protective value. Swords are thrown into the middle of lakes, armour tossed into oceans, shields left to drift down the lake, in hopes that each item would sink down to him, and show to him how little each item meant in comparison to the protection he could offer.

In some smaller communities, guards will smear blood over his altars after they successfully fended off bandits or raiders. Whether it is their own or that of the attacker, it depends. All bloodshed is thought to be a sacrifice for the Protector, if shed in the attempt to save oneself or another.

Obviously some ceremonies under the following of the protector involves coming of age (or, becoming old enough to be entrusted with the defence of your house), becoming a guard, and even your first scar. Scars are celebrated by those who worship the Protector, as it is thought that he himself weaves the scabs and scars over your injuries to keep you safe. That said, if you accidentally tear open a scar, or reagitate an injury, it's seen as a punishment from him for not being grateful enough for what help he had given.

Most of The Protector's ceremonies and celebrations are very low-key. He's not a particularly flashy guy (though his descendants very much are). Most of it includes submerging in water, or having running water spread over one's face/hands/injury. His followers also often wed whilst standing in shallow rivers and streams, so that he may be as much of their wedding as they are, and for this reason weddings also don't tend to be particularly fancy. Nothing worse than getting a super expensive dress all soggy.

The Keeper

The smart-man's saint, he who the scholars swear to when another does not quite grasp a subject quite as well as they should.

All libraries, places of study, academies or archives are his domain, and so it is only fitting that his temples are lined floor-to-ceiling with books and scrolls, and knowledge. The biggest one is far north, in the stretch between Ru'Aun and Yggdrasil, the field of the gods. It's a long-since abandoned area, but the temple stands proud and tall, a tower filled with every shred of knowledge from that time and all times before it. Scholars set out with the intent of finding it, and return broken men or not at all. The Field of the Gods was abandoned for a reason, after all.

keeping everything to Ru'aun, there's not much to say for Ru'auni Keeper ceremonies. There are obviously those which appoint scholars to their towers, but worship of the keeper is generalised to those places which can afford to care about knowledge. Smaller communities worship him little, knowing survival is more important than smarts, and so the only practices for him are the 'savoury' ones that the Church of The Matron support.

Anyone who claims to be truly devoted to him think of him less as a god to worship, and more of a model to follow. They ensure they say nothing but the truth, unless it is in the name of gaining knowledge, and they protect books and information with their very souls. That said, as many of these scholars are under the employ of the church, they will burn whichever books that Zane desires. The will of the Matron overpowers that of the Keeper.

The Wanderer

He is surprisingly well-followed. He is the patron of Travellers and Merchants, of orphans and the homeless. Anyone who finds themselves between places, or travelling for any period of time, they will have some form of worship for him.

He has no temples, temples are too permanent, but travellers will often erect small shrines for him along popular paths and cross-roads, so that, if in need of guidance, one of his followers may find him. Many will carve his symbols into trees to guide the way out of forests, or scribble his symbol onto their maps so that he may never let them get lost. Boats will have it painted on their masts, so that the wind may carry them where they are intended to go. Everywhere is a temple of the Wanderer, as long as it leads to someplace else.

Following the Wanderer is very much a... personal practice. Whatever gets you forward. And that's all he teaches, going forward, getting from a to b, and continuing on from there. Of course, there are generalised practices, but no set-in-stone ceremonies. Some sailors may consider drinking big and making a fool out of themselves to truly savour the success of a trip to be a ceremony to bless him, others may think that travelling in itself is all the ceremony he needs.

The most common practice is dedicating meals to him, when that meal is consumed in the midsts of a travel, or to continue one on forwards. The meal sustains their adventure, as their faith in him does, after all. However, some will go to uncomfortable lengths to ensure there is a meal to dedicate, fearing that their travels may end soon without his interference, one way or another.

The Fury

The Fury, whilst widely worshipped in Tu'La, is a saint with little following in Ru'Aun. The church of The Matron does not support the direct worship of her, due to O'Khasis' long and complicated history of beef with Tu'La, but there are those that worship her anyways.

Immigrants and refugees from Tu'La make up the bulk of her worshippers, and as thus most of her practices are Tu'Lan ones. There are no temples for her, but the statues of her with the other Divine, and the shrines that her few followers are able to put together. There are also some werewolf communities that follow her, due to many Meif'wa refugees being forced out of human cities out of fear that they're just like the werewolves, so they join their fellow misunderstood animal-esque brethren.

Those born into the faith often have to walk over hot coals/sand/etc until there is a visible burn on the soles of their feet, so that they might always be one with her, when they come of age (usually mid-to-late 20s, in Tu'Lan culture, though those in Ru'Auni communities usually bring this to about late teens/early 20s instead.). Those who convert into it often have it done during their conversion, though many like to differentiate between the born-into and the converted, so the burns are put on their hands instead.

There are many ceremonies lost due to it being a religion that relies on the word-of-mouth of refugees that aren't given many opportunities to learn Ru'Auni before they go to the continent, but those that remain are often fire-filled and beautiful. Tattoos are given to show the life events of an individual, scars are burned into their skin for their every holy deed, so they might show off to others just how much they do for their god.

They consider themselves merciful, though others don't. One of their ceremonies is a 'blessing' ceremony, where they tie all of their enemies and prisoners to an unlit pyre, and have their own most devoted soldier be set aflame and walk into it. They believe that she blesses people for a more holy realm after they pass through her flames. Obviously others just go 'ah shit gonna get burnd'

The Destroyer

The Destroyer, Judgement, The Ancient. He has as many names as he does different followers. His worshippers follow most closely to the worship of the old gods out of any Divine (Menphia is a close second), and whilst there may not be many compared to the Matron's followers, they are varied.

All of his temples in the overworld are long-since destroyed, every statue of him defaced or removed entirely from where they once stood. To the people, he never existed, but as a boogeyman to scare children with, but those with any semblance of power, or who live outside of the protective walls of the major cities and towns, know that he is present. always. The few temples he has are old churches of the Matron's, which were either abandoned or taken, and repurposed into a domain for the Destroyer. They hold no idols of him, but they do have an altar. Even if they need to make the altars out of broken tables, or the corpses of those they killed, there *will* be an altar.

Any death to brace Judgement's altars is a good one, whether it be of one of his own followers, a rabbit hunted for food, or even the corpse of something long-dead. Humans, especially those of power, are preferable however. considering, y'know. ommy nommy. They give him these deaths not to ask anything of him, but to give to him more power, so that he might rise again and become their one and true king. That is all they want, all they desire.

They hold celebrations for new births, for coming of age, for first kills and first scars. They worship death beyond what any other religion might, and they view the hunt as the natural intersection between life and death. How they celebrate varies, but it is always at night, to emulate the Abyss that their god is trapped within. They can be as small as gifting jewellery, or as big as huge cannibal-feast orgies. I would love to go into this religion more bc it's my most developed but this is a long ass post as is, i'm keeping this as short as i can lmao. i have other posts on stuff too so...

#aphmau #rewrite #aphverse #aphblr #minecraft diaries #mcd #The Divine Warriors #Tw cannibalism #tw death #fuck idk read the tws and cws

19 notes · View notes