#joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis writing

[joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis]

The Tale of What Once Was and What Could Be: An XLife Fanfiction

j e r e m y

I am still stuck in the past and obsessed with xlife.

fic written for the wonderful @pixiesempire <3

follow both of us plz

-

Summary:

Joel was nothing but a young boy, spawned in along with many others, a single red heart tattooed on all their wrists. He was no different than the others as they all started making their way through life, building houses and making friends along the way, even discovering that dying would bring about a new heart.

Ten lives, was what the book at Spawn said. It all made sense now.

However, he was just an ordinary man going about his business.

That was, until something higher spoke to him, telling him of the ancient religion of Jeremyism, and asking him to lead it in this world.

He didn't think he was worthy, and tried to tell the One True Jeremy that much, but the God simply laughed and disappeared.

Joel found a donkey named Donkey Jeremy later than same day. He took him home with him.

Over the next few years, he came to build the Church of Jeremy, rediscover the Holy Land and make friends, as well as enemies, along the way.

This, Reader, is the story of how Jeremyism came to be.

-

this will be a bit of an AU as I'm going to write jeremyism!lizzie, fight me

maybe some of the other coven members as well

this will include Jizzie, but is more centred around the story of jeremyism, with a few tweaks! (THE ENDING KILLED ME. PLEASE SAY I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE)

imma make this fic about a joke religion so serious

#the tale of what once was and what could be #joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis writing #x life smp #jeremyism #xlife #smallishbeans #joel smallishbeans #lizzie ldshadowlady #ldshadowlady #author is sleep deprived #author is insane

[joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis]

ch15

Scott was furious.

Not irritated, not annoyed, not miffed.

Boiling with rage.

He was pacing the tundra, a scowl on his face, his fists balled. He was shaking from head to toe, looking as if if anyone approached him he'd immediately put a sword through their back.

Xornoth watched him, tensed up. His heartbeat was faster than usual, not that he’d ever admit that to himself.

No emotion, he reminded himself.

You just hugged your brother for the first time in, what, thirteen years? That’s emotion enough, Champion.

“Who are you?” Xornoth whispered.

“Xornoth?” Scott asked.

“Mhm?”

“Who are you talking too?”

Xornoth stared at the jagged, snowy peaks behind Scott.

“Nobody,” they forced themselves to say. They wanted to tell Scott the truth, they really did. But Scott- he was angry enough. They didn’t want to provoke him into hurting them.

“Sure,” Scott said, turning awake and continued pacing.

Done with your pleasant chit-chat, Champion?

Xornoth did his best to ignore it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked Scott quickly. Anything to distract him from the voice.

“The owl,” Scott stopped and gestured vaguely in the direction of the snowy white bird, which had arrived minutes prior.

“The owl?” Xornoth asked, confused.

“The message. Uh- fWhip’s been messing up Rivendell. Because I froze Gem.”

“You what?”

“Froze Gem. Accidentally.”

Xornoth could feel themselves shift into the mindset they’d always switched to in front of people; the cold, cruel one.

“Gem. And fWhip’s been griefing Rivendell?”

“Yeah,” Scott sighed. “I- I just don’t get it. An accident. An accident made my friend hate me. Most of my friends, I assume.”

Xornoth wasn’t really listening.

fWhip. fWhip had done wrong to Scott, because of an accident.

For Gem, he laughed suddenly in his mind. Of course.

The only way to get through fWhip was through his siblings.

“If he wants a villain, he’s getting a villain,” Scott said angrily, resuming his pacing.

“Are you going back to Rivendell?” Xornoth asked Scott.

“Yeah,” Scott nodded. “It’s Winterfest soon, anyway.”

“Winterfest,” Xornoth mused . “I wonder…”

-

Scott had left an hour before Xornoth.

The older twin had wished the demon safe travels, and had left, flying off on those amazing white wings Xornoth had been jealous of so many years ago.

Now Xornoth was in the Nether. Specifically, watching Shrub.

Everything better go according to plan, he thought. If not, I commit murder.

That’s my Champion, the voice laughed.

Frowning, Xornoth blocked it out and instead focused on the gnome.

Shutting his eyes tightly, he thought of corruption. He allowed it to take over his mind, his innermost thoughts, his brain, his body, everything- all he saw was corruption.

When he opened them, nothing had changed.

He had failed.

He was about to sneak away, but then he noticed the ginger girl walking up to Shrub.

Perfect.

Kind of.

He had failed.

Failed.

Failed, Champion.

The gnome gave Gem some mushroom stew, for some odd reason.

He calculated the odds of getting to the nearest portal before they noticed him.

Close to zero.

The ginger girl chewed the stew slowly.

They noticed her hair now had a streak of pure white, looking like frost against her bright plait.

He watched with bated breath, not quite sure what they were expecting.

The snowy white turned into corruption red, the vines twisting in her braid.

He exhaled silently.

Everything had gone according to plan, and Xornoth was about to show everybody that them and their brother were a force never to be trifled with, never to be messed with, or everyone will pay for everything they’ve ever done.

#i wrote this at 2am #my smajor suffers series #joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis writing #empires gem #geminitay #scott major #smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #scott smajor #xornoth #rivnedell twins #empires smp #esmp #esmp fanfic #empires smp fanfic #empiresblr #shubble

[joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis]

ch14

Another one, Pixl thought silently as he placed a green candle onto the Vigil. Another death.

It wasn't a murder, at least, Pixl tried to console himself. It was just Jimmy fallen off a cliff. Just.

It wasn't just. It was terrible. There was at least a death per day, nowadays, and even if they weren't murders, they still made Pixl sad to look at, the amount of candles on the Vigil ever increasing.

If anyone was murdered, one of their three lives would be taken away. Rulers, at least. Citizens only had one life, whether it was murder or fall damage.

No ruler had permanently died- yet- and Pixl lived in a constant state of fear and unease that one day, one of his friends would get into a battle and not make it out alive.

With a heavy heart, he lit the candle and watched the wax slowly melt and pour down the side of the green candle, only to be solidified halfway down. That was how he felt, really. There was something he needed to do, somewhere he had to be, but he was frozen when he was nearly at it, and forced to start it all over.

He sat down on the sand and let the sun's scorching rays hit his neck. Most days, the heat felt normal, but today the sun seemed to have a personal vendetta against him, for it burned his very skin, burned more than it usually did, burned so much he was sure that he was imagining it.

A snowflake floated down past him. It was beautiful but fragile, as if it could break at any moment. He watched with bated breath as it floated down, the sunlight reflecting and bouncing off it, splitting the unique pattern of the ice a million different ways, each glimmering in the light.

Wait.

A snowflake?

He looked up.

It was snowing.

The once near-glowing golden sand of Pixandria was already being submerged in white snow, as if his world had been wiped of colour. Looking around, almost all the buildings were covered in ice and snow, icicles even hanging off some.

This wasn't right. He lived in the desert- snow was little more than a rumour here. Now aware of his surroundings, he noticed snow on his hands.

So that was where the burning was coming from.

He'd never really felt snow before, apart from the rare occasions he was in Rivendell, and there it had always felt like this.

There shouldn't be snow.

There just shouldn't.

He wanted to cry, but couldn't; he had never been able to, not since he was a young prince, and then he could only cry when he heard the news of his parents' death, murdered by a highly trained assassin from Mythland.

He'd cried once in his 33 year long lifetime. Thinking back, that seemed rather worrying, especially considering the times he'd lost someone else, the broken promises of his childhood, the slowly ascending pain of being the Copper King.

If he could cry, however, he was sure he would be sobbing now, seeing his beautiful kingdom covered in snow and ice that didn't belong.

He wasn't so sure he belonged here anymore either.

a/n Pixl can't cry because he lives in the dry desert, where water is scarce, and being King has made him at one with the land- it's just a theory of mine (about my own fic? I'm not sure)

#my smajor suffers series #death tw #murder tw #not graphic he's just mentioning it #joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis writing #pixandria #pixlriffs #empires smp #empiresblr #esmp #esmp fanfic

[joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis]

here's ch12...sorry for the wait my children i've been sweating on a minecraft server

It had been so long since she’d felt the warm embrace of her husband.

Shivering slightly, Lizzie sighed.

This was wrong.

This wasn’t how it was meant to be.

It was meant to be her and Joel, and their friends, living in peace, ruling their empires  with no conflict.

She had just returned from Mezalea after a huge argument with Joel about Xornoth.

They’d flown back together after the meeting at Katherine’s. At some point, Joel remarked that Xornoth didn’t exist, Lizzie contradicting him, and they’d had the biggest argument that they’d had in all their years of knowing each other, not that they’d had many at all.

Sure, Joel had adamantly denied Xornoth’s existence since the day they first appeared, electing to ignore the demon’s corruption in favour of insisting the whole thing was just someone pranking them, but all of a sudden, it was just too much for Lizzie.

She had thought she was free.

She gazed longingly at the visible border of the Mesa kingdom. What she’d give for that last conversation never to have happened… Shaking her head, she walked inside of a throne room. She curled up in the soft cushioning of her throne.

Yawning, she let her eyes close. Just five minutes couldn’t hurt…right? -

- A storm was coming.

Joel knew the tell-tale signs of one; the rapidly darkening sky overhead, the angry wind which whipped his face as he stood outside, even the sudden drop of temperature which chilled his very bones.

Yet, he stayed outside. He could just about make out the silhouette of the majestic Prisma Palace. He assumed Lizzie must be inside. He let the wind mess with his hair as he stood there, consumed in overwhelming emotion.

He shouldn’t have said any of that, shouldn’t have done any of the things he did.

It was too late, now, though.

He should’ve admitted Xornoth existed.

He didn’t want to.

Ignore all his problems and they’d go away, right?

He tried to remember his parents’ words, but they didn’t come to mind, the memory of his father and mother buried underneath new experiences, their words as if muffled behind a glass pane.

Thunder rolled ahead.

He’d been right, then.

Rain started to pour, crashing down on the stone paths and drenching the King of Mezalea from head to toe.

He knew the ponds would be overflowing once the storm ended, once the morning came.

He rubbed his forehead wearily.

He was so tired.

So tired.

It had been so long since he’d let go of his consciousness for a while and capitulated to the soft warmth of sleep, so long since he’d fallen asleep to the quiet patter of rain against the window, so long since he’d laid his head down on his pillow.

His eyes closed slowly, before he shook himself awake.

He wouldn’t sleep.

Forcing his eyes open, he gazed up at the stars, trying to see the constellations. The stars blurred.

His mind played memories of Lizzie almost subconsciously: the day they'd first met (a ball at Mezalea when they were 16; both of them had stepped outside as a way to escape the noise and social requirements of a multi-kingdom event) their first date, him proposing, their wedding day, and even them laying in a flower field and laughing to the point where Joel had stitches in his side at a joke he couldn't quite remember.

He wanted to go to the Ocean Empire.

He needed to go to the Ocean Empire.

You'd be weak, a suspiciously familiar voice in his head laughed.

"No I wouldn't be," he tried to reason with himself out loud.

Go ahead, the voice said, sounding amused. Go throw away your dignity.

Lizzie would have to wait. Joel wasn't weak. He was strong; he was a fitting ruler for the prosperous kingdom of Mezalea.

So he stayed there for hours. The rain hit his face, his arms, everywhere really, his legs burned and ached from the hours of standing, he was so cold he was burning, burning so much he was almost sure he'd die soon, burning so much he could be on fire, but yet he stood there, for who was a King without his soul? and his soul was in the Ocean Empire, listening to the waves and holding Lizzie's hand.

A/N: to capitulate is like to succumb/to yield

#my smajor suffers series #joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis writing #idk what to tag uh #esmp #lizzie ldshadowlady #ldshadowlady #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #empiresblr #empires smp #angst #esmp fanfic #jizzie

[joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis]

about me + tag list :)

My name’s Joel, my pronouns are they/them and I’m a minor :)

I pretty much just write stories with Xornoth as the misunderstood villain who falls in love with the handsome Lost Emperor, meanwhile his estranged brother Scott falls for the Codfather. Then they become un-estranged. Yup.

join the Xornoth Stan/Apologist discord: https://discord.gg/u8EeZChnP6

My current fandoms (that I might post about) are:

- Empires SMP (I’ll post about this the most)

- Children of Eden

- Dream SMP

#joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis writing : basically just anything I write including the smajor suffers series and oneshots!

#my smajor suffers series : my smajor suffers series (pretty straightforward). basically it’s just an angst story with comfort :D Jornoth, Flower Husbands, possible/backround Nature Wives and Jizzie :) also seablings, roseblings and possible Joey and Shrub

#locked in the same house au : an AU where all 13 Empires members (including Xornoth) get locked in the same house, unable to escape, without weapons or armour and being unable to punch each other. Ships: Jornoth, Flower Husbands, Jizzie and Nature Wives, also Joey and Shrub as siblings, seablings and roseblings

to be updated :)

#joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis writing #my smajor suffers series #esmp #empires smp #empiresblr #locked in the same house au

[joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis]

ch11 (i wanna write c!joel angst so bad but the plotline isn't clear in my head so not just yet)

"King Sausage is here to see you, Your Majesty," a servant told Joey, bowing.

What could Sausage possibly want?

Instead, Joey nodded, trying not to show his confusion.

"Tell him to wait there, I'll be there in a moment."

He glanced in the mirror.

He looked like a mess.

He placed Xornoth's crown on his head.

It felt right, somehow. It was as if this was meant to be- the dark, bejewelled crown upon his soft golden hair.

Joey walked downstairs.

"Sausage," he greeted.

"Why are you wearing the crown?" Sausage asked immediately.

"Feels right," Joey shrugged.

"Your eyes aren't red," Sausage mentioned.

"They weren't before."

Joey laughed, realizing his friend had probably thought it was a side effect of the crown.

"What?"

"Lenses. I thought they looked cool.”

"Oh," Sausage nodded.

"What brings you here?" Joey asked, fiddling with his ring.

"Fight with Gem and fWhip," Sausage said sadly. This wasn’t uncommon, but the fact that this was so soon after he’d said he wouldn’t try to help Xornoth as not to fight with his siblings…

"About Xornoth?"

The man nodded.

"I- I think that right now, the top priority is making sure Xornoth's fine. They were- are- my best friend- and I can't let them go again,” Sausage inhaled shakily.

Joey nodded.

"I'm sure he's fine," Joey said, not quite believing his own words.

-

-

"I love you."

The words echoed through the deserted tundra, each echo a reminder of Scott's words, of his brother, of a past life long gone.

"What?"

Scott replied a little clearer this time.

"I love you."

Their walls were cracking, Xornoth knew. The ice around their emotions was thawing at the speed of light, their carefully built barricades to prevent the feelings tumbling down more as each echo came.

"No you don't," Xornoth gulped. "You don't love me. You can't love me. I'm a monster. I don't deserve it."

Exor was writing his words for him. They could almost hear the god laughing, his laughs echoing with the 'I love you'.

Scott sat down on the snow next to him.

Xornoth made to move away.

Then realized he couldn't.

Scott was holding the sleeve of his shirt.

Xornoth cleared his throat.

Scott moved a little closer.

Xornoth was scared now. His walls wouldn't last much longer.

No.

Scared.

Not scared.

He was just fine.

Slowly, Scott reached out to them.

Xornoth got as far away from him as possible, which was really only a few centimeters.

Scott wrapped an arm around him, then another one.

"Um- Scott-" Xornoth started.

Scott only held them tighter.

To their surprise, they felt a tear slide down their face.

As much as they willed themselves not to do it, they put their arms around Scott, too. The feeling was warm; it reminded them of old days, better days.

He nestled his head into Scott's shoulder.

"It hurts," he whispered quietly.

"I know," Scott answered softly.

The two brothers stayed like that for hours. They didn’t get up once the snow started falling, creating white flecks on their hair. They didn’t get up when the wolves started to howl, their lonely cries fitted between the wind. They didn’t get up when the sun started to set, casting a long shadow across the crisp blanket of snow, pure white apart from the spot Xornoth’s blood had dropped what felt like days ago. It was already buried in new snow, the fight forgotten, as if the blood was Xornoth’s sadness and the snow was Scott’s hug.

They sat there, brother and brother, and both wished that this moment would never end, that they could stay in each other’s arms until they withered away.

Alas, these happy moments are few and painfully short when you’re a pawn stuck in an eternal game of life and death, controlled by powerful gods such as you cannot defeat; you can only succumb to their power and hope you won’t lose yourself along the way.

#do i need a tw for them basically being vessels of evil gods? #blood tw #its only mentioned tho #he’s trying to block his emotions do i need a tw for that #joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis writing #the last 3 paragraphs took my life #why can't i write like this in class #xornoth #smajor #scott smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #mythicalsausage #mythical sausage #joey graceffa #mcyt #empiresblr #empires smp #rivendell #empires fic #THEY GET A HUG #he/they pronouns for xornoth #exor #aeor #my smajor suffers series

[joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis]

ch8 :D (Scott smajor suffers ending soon?!?) (nvm they have more suffering to do) TWs in tags <3

Jimmy paid a visit to Scott the next day.

Or, at least, he tried to.

There wasn’t a sight of Rivendell’s ruler, the palace oddly empty.

He couldn’t be out, right?

He walked around the castle, echoes bouncing off the walls with every step.

“Scott?” He called.

“Codfather?” he saw an elf run up to him.

“Oh, hello,” he did his best to smile at the elf, trying to hide how worried he was. “Have you seen King Scott lately?”

The elf shook their head.

“He left a few days ago,” they said.

“Well, thanks for your help,” Jimmy nodded.

He walked outside quickly.

Sinking down onto his knees, he felt a tear slowly start slipping down his face.

-

-

Xornoth couldn’t sleep that night.

He rocked himself slowly, thoughts of Joey suffocating his mind.

He wanted to speak to Scott.

No he didn’t. He didn’t want to speak to Scott, he reminded himself. He hated Scott. He didn’t hate Scott. He didn’t feel.

He didn’t feel.

Letting out a sudden scream of anger, he stormed out of the tower.

He headed towards Rivendell.

He was maybe three quarters of the way there before deciding he couldn’t.

He couldn’t speak to Scott.

Instead, he landed on a mountain miles away from Rivendell and stopped.

They didn’t know where they were.

They looked around frantically. A lantern flickered in the distance.

Squinting, they saw only darkness. Positive they were imagining it, they turned around.

The light flickered again, unmistakable this time.

They half walked, half ran towards the light.

As they neared it, they could just make out a small spruce cottage.

They stopped near the door.

What was he thinking?

He calmed himself.

He didn’t feel.

He wasn’t millimeters away from a panic attack.

He couldn’t feel.

He lay down in the snow near the house.

He’d leave in the morning, and hopefully they would get up before the owner of the house did.

They rested their head on the cold white snow.

It burned his skin, but they didn’t say anything.

He didn’t think anything.

He couldn’t feel.

-

-

He woke up in a cold sweat and screaming.

They clamped a hand to their mouth as soon as they realized where they were.

It was too late.

He could hear footsteps from inside the cabin.

He pressed himself into the snow, digging his fingernails so hard into his palms that he drew blood.

They shut their eyes tightly and prayed to the gods that no one would find them.

“Who’s there?” they heard an eerily familiar voice say from inside the cabin.

Despite himself, Xornoth whimpered.

The person stepped out, sword drawn.

Xornoth begged that they wouldn’t notice him.

He heard snow crunch near him.

Opening an eye slightly, he saw the figure standing right in front of him.

“Xornoth?”

#my smajor suffers series #joeldoesntknowwhatsleepis writing #blood tw #not graphic #nightmare tw #implied #mcyt #dangthatsalongname #empiresblr #solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #empires smp #xornoth #scott smajor #smajor1995 #smajor