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mochiwrites · 4 months

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I desperately need to do something with this secret life au I have bouncing around in my brain. so! snippet/warm up time.

( it’d be really cool if I got any asks about it. and maybe some reblogs 👉👈 )

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Grian’s wings flutter at his sides as he stands before the Secret Keeper. He feels his feathers ruffle with the wind as a breeze goes past, the wings at his head twitching. He’s oblivious to the world around him, eyes glued to the mossy rock formation in front of him. It’s a good thing it isn’t night, else Grian could be at risk of losing very precious hearts if a mob were to sneak up on him.

Though that isn’t something he has to worry about, not at the Secret Keeper statue.

He purses his lips, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes practically burn holes into the statue. Or well, they probably would, if the statue were made from something flammable. He feels like he’s entered a staring contest with the Secret Keeper, a weird feeling for a lifeless statue.

Except this statue doesn’t feel very lifeless. It’s been making Grian a bit uneasy since the game began, leaving him to wonder if They did something to it.

There’s certainly something odd about the statue, Grian knows this for sure. He’s felt drawn to it since the game began, like it’s been calling to him. Whispering at him. He isn’t exactly the Listening type, it’s all lost on him. His Eyes don’t do him much either, unfortunately.

“What is it about you?” he muses, speaking to a statue that cannot speak back. He stares at its face, the wide eyes and curved mouth that seems frozen in a smirk. The hood looks like it’s been intricately cut out in the stone, like someone had been an agonizingly long time into making sure it was perfect.

This isn’t the first time Grian has done this, just stared up at the Secret Keeper. He can’t help it. The statue feels so familiar, like Grian has seen it somewhere before. No… maybe it’s more than that.

It’s like Grian knows this statue, the Secret Keeper. There’s this nagging feeling in the back of his mind, tugging on some part of him that he doesn’t have access to. It tugs on his soul, his very being and essence, and like being led by string, Grian finds himself back here every time.

He doesn’t understand.

Grian takes a step forward, and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end. The wings of his feathers fluff up. “Who are you to me?” he questions, desperate for some kind of answer. “Why do I feel like I know you?” It’s pointless, he knows. A statue isn’t going to suddenly start speaking to him. It’s inanimate. Stone. It will not answer. Yet Grian stubbornly asks his questions anyway.

He stares up at the statue, frustration dipping his brow as his lips tilt low.

“Whatcha doing?”

A startled squawk sounds from Grian as he turns around on his heel, brown eyes meeting blue. He finds the amused face of Martyn, forcing the avian to let out a breath.

“Martyn,” he sighs, “You can’t do that, man!”

Martyn immediately breaks into laughter, very clearly finding enjoyment from Grian’s reaction. “Sorry, sorry! You make it too easy dude. You’re even easier to sneak up on than Timmy is.”

Grian looks at him as if offended by the comment, “I’ll have you know that Tim is very easy to startle. You just sneak up on me when I’m deep in thought!”

“Too busy ogling the Secret Keeper to notice me sneakin’ up, huh?” Martyn retorts, lips curling into a slight smirk.

“I wasn’t ogling it!” Grian’s wings fan out, flapping slightly in agitation. “I was studying it!”

Martyn hums, not buying Grian’s excuse but not bothering to call him out on it. “And what were you ‘studying’ this time, Grian?”

He pauses now, steam being pushed out of him at Martyn’s question. His wings drop along with his shoulders as he lets out a quiet breath, turning his attention back to the statue. He doesn’t answer immediately, staring at it with a confused expression. “This might sound crazy but… does the Secret Keeper feel… familiar at all?” he slowly asks as he looks back to Martyn.

The man stares at him, looking absolutely lost, if a bit concerned. “You feeling alright dude? Or is this your task or something?”

“I’m perfectly fine, and no it’s not my task.” Grian frowns. “Can you just answer the question?” Thinly veiled patience is laced in his voice, something Martyn can pick out easily after having known Grian for so long.

“Alright, alright,” he sighs, directing his attention to the statue in front of them. He hums, narrowing his gaze slightly. “Nothin’ familiar about it I’m afraid. Creepy smile though.”

“Creepy?” Grian parrots, joining Martyn in looking at the statue. He frowns faintly, “I don’t know… I think it’s kinda nice. Cheeky. A bit silly, y’know? The smile of someone mischievous.”

Martyn turns to look back at Grian, eyes shining with soft concern, “Look, Grian, unless your task is to spend hours ogling this thing, you might wanna get a move on. We’re in a death game, remember?” His stare turns a little colder, harsher. “We’re not gonna be all buddy buddy for very long.”

Grian knows he’s right. There’s no point in wasting time trying to figure out a brain puzzle with no clues. He’s not focusing on what’s important (isn’t the important thing that missing piece? The fracture somewhere?) and it could cost him greatly. Except his eyes trail back to the Secret Keeper’s gray ones (he wonders what they’d look like if they were green), staring at them. It’s like those eyes stare right back at him.

He frowns before sighing. “Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just hard not to be curious,” he weakly argues, shrugging. “I feel like I know him from someplace, except I don’t know where.”

Martyn is quiet for a moment, eyes faraway. “…I guess I get that,” he relents, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Have fun with your stone Romeo. I’m gonna hit the road and get back to completing my task.”

Grian makes a spluttering sound at that, “S-Stone Romeo?! It’s nothing like that!”

( Above them, the Secret Keeper watches on in sadness. This feels like some kind of punishment. It’s agony, torture. It’s worse than hiding away in his valley all alone, wishing for friends. He wants to reach out. ‘I’m right here!’ He wishes to scream.

He Watches as Grian spares him one last glance, hesitation in his expression. He turns on his heel and walks away.

Scar wishes he could call for him.)

#mochi writes #scarian #trafficshipping #it’s not in your face but it’s intended #slsmp spoilers #secret keeper au

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ellieloves2draw · 4 months

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at long last i have finished it!! this was so much fun :] ive wanted to do a character lineup for a while but havent really had the time/spoons, so it was really nice to have a convenient template on hand

template by @xmaruu11

closeups and ID under the cut

(ID: bust shots of each of the members of the life series, done in marker. left to right, top to bottom, they are: grian, scar, mumbo, jimmy, joel, scott, impulse, skizz, tango, etho, bdubs, cleo, martyn, ren, lizzie, bigb, gem, and pearl. each member is talking to and/or interacting with another member.

character designs:

grian has dirty blonde hair, a button nose, and pure black eyes. his hands are scaled and birdlike, and he has large deerlike ears. he is wearing small round glasses and a red sweater.

scar has brown hair in a ponytail, pointed, ears, a wide nose, and green eyes. there are a number of scars on his face, arms, and neck. there are also some grey streaks in the left side of his hair.

mumbo has black hair, black dot eyes, a button nose, and pointed ears. his mouth is obscured by a mustache. there are two strands of hair sticking up above his forehead. he is wearing a white collared shirt, suspenders, a floppy red tie, and black gloves.

jimmy has short dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, a straight nose, and a beard. I he’s wearing a white shirt, and unbuttoned blue shirt, and a bandana around the neck that is red-and-white striped.

joel has dark brown hair with a green streak in the front, pointed ears, dark brown eyes, a slightly hooked nose, stubble, and a small braid in the back. he’s wearing a loose, long-sleeved white shirt, and a dark brown vest that is loosely tied together.

scott has long blue hair with a braid next to his left ear, deerlike ears, a wide nose, and dark blue eyes. there are small yellow lights floating around his head like a halo. he is wearing a white shirt with a rainbow pattern across the middle, and an unbuttoned blue shirt on top. there are red flowers in his hair.

impulse has short brown hair with grey streaks, slitted brown eyes, a wide nose, pointed ears, and a beard. he is wearing a black, short sleeve shirt, a dark, gray vest, and a yellow bandanna tied around the neck.

skizz has salt and pepper hair styled similarly to wolverine from x-men. he has a chin beard, a large nose, and light blue eyes with white pupils. there are scars on his arms. there is a faint halo around his head. he is wearing a formal vest, red tie, and white collared shirt with the sleeves ripped off.

tango has long pointed ears, red eyes, a pointed nose, yellow blonde hair, and stubble. there are a pair of red lensed goggles on his forehead. he is wearing oversized red gloves, a red button up shirt, and black overalls.

etho has long white hair that is half tied up, a dark blue eye and a red eye, and a scar over the red eye. he also has stubble, which is barely visible underneath his mask. he’s wearing a dark green shirt, a dark blue vest with a fur collar, and black fingerless gloves.

bdubs has short white hair, very dark brown eyes, stubble, a large nose, and a missing tooth. he also has a black eye. he’s wearing a white collared shirt, a cloak made of moss, and a red bandana on his head.

cleo has pale green skin covered in stitches, long red hair, an upturned nose, and pure black eyes with light green irises. they are wearing a dark magenta leotard with purple off-the-shoulder sleeves. she has dark pink flowers in her hair.

martyn has long light blonde hair, parted in the middle and held back with a headband. he has blue eyes, a large nose, and a beard. he’s wearing a green shirt, a dark green jacket with a large collar, and black fingerless gloves.

ren is a dogman. he has long dark brown fur with slightly lighter fur on the face and hands. he has blue eyes. he’s wearing sunglasses and a red plaid short-sleeved flannel.

lizzie has blue eyes, long pink hair, and raccoon-like ears and nose. she has sharp teeth and claws. there is a dark raccoon-like marking over her eyes. she is wearing a blue vest and floppy tie and a white collared shirt.

bigb has dark brown eyes, a wide nose, a beard, and two ear cuffs. his hair is styled in a pompadour. he is wearing a blue poncho with a cookie patch sewn, and a lighter blue shirt underneath.

gem has antlers and deerlike ears, red hair tied in a braid, green eyes, a small nose, and freckles. she’s wearing a light green sweater and blue denim overalls.

pearl has long light brown hair, deerlike ears, and blue eyes with white pupils. she also has white freckles. she’s wearing a dark blue beanie and cloak, and a white shirt. the cloak has red patches sewn on.

end ID.)

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betweenlands · 6 months

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It takes exactly two seconds between Impulse looking up at the top of the Secret Keeper and him realizing what he's actually seeing up there to decide he is officially sick and tired of seeing ghosts.

There are seven entire ghosts around the thing today -- a couple appear to be tinkering with the secret delivery mechanisms. Impulse squints at them.

"What are you doing?" he says.

"Trying to figure out how to load more tasks into this thing," one of them replies, kicking one of the blocks with buttons on them. He's got a full beard and some weird green glowing mushrooms poking out of cracks in his face. It's definitely... a look, Impulse will give him that. Very Mycelium Resistance. "But whoever designed it used freakin' command blocks, and you can't even see the randomizer run."

"How many times did your randomizer break again?" one of the other ghosts calls from up on top of the Secret Keeper.

"Never!" the mushroom ghost protests, causing at least two other ghosts to crack up laughing. "It worked completely flawlessly except for user error."

One of the ghosts, someone who appears to have a floating cactus block for a head, snorts. "And programmer error."

"You shut it," the mushroom ghost responds.

"He's not wrong," the more normal-looking brown-haired ghost over by the command blocks says absently, purple eyes clearly focused on trying to trace the wiring back to the actual command blocks.

Impulse just stands there, bewildered -- both because the ghosts are actually talking to him, and also because these are extremely weird ghosts to be talking to who look nothing like anyone he's even vaguely heard of.

"Fine," he says, "you know what, I'll bite. Why are you guys here?"

"Checking in," a ghost sitting on one of the lower rocks says. He's wearing blue and yellow, looks to be a little more transparent than the others. "Y'know, new season and all that?"

Impulse squints at him. "No, I meant, why are you following me?"

"Ohhhh!" The ghost laughs. "Hadn't looked into what you were doing yet, and these guys wanted to see if they could get some of their tasks into the machine, so I just brought everyone along."

"That's not really a good answer," a ghost leaning inside the alcove under the Secret Keeper says. He's got a mask pulled up over his face, though his voice doesn't really sound muffled at all.

"What," the blue and yellow ghost says, "am I supposed to say something like it's because you're one of the people with no hard-and-fast thematic associations to stick to and therefore easier to facilitate a meeting with and freak him out more?"

Impulse squints harder. "Are you guys Watchers?"

The blue-and-yellow ghost snorts. "Hah! That's Martyn's lore, bud, not yours. Nope, nothing to do with the Watchers."

"Aren't you technically--" the ghost in the alcove starts.

"Tsssssshhhhhh," the other ghost replies by way of shushing him aggressively, "spoilers!"

"Alright," the alcove ghost says, spreading his hands in mock defeat, "fine, have it your way. He's right though. Not Watchers."

"Lowercase-w maybe," the brown-haired ghost still inspecting the redstone with the mushroom ghost says, "but otherwise, no."

Impulse is starting to feel like he's wandered into something way above his pay grade.

The alcove ghost snaps his fingers. Impulse notes somewhat absent-mindedly that he has, like, a lot of piercings on one ear. "Hey," he says, "come to think of it, we might be able to help you out with some stuff."

"I swear to God," another ghost says from on top of the Secret Keeper, "if you try to sell another person on your weird coffee god thing again-"

"I wasn't going to!" he responds. "Honest! I was just gonna say, it looks like there's a plains biome here, that means oxeye daisies, that means suspicious stew with regen if you can get a good source of mushrooms."

"Unfortunately," the mushroom ghost says, looking up from where he and the other ghost appear to now be trying to cram books into the ground, "the space for the hearts seems like it just kinda vanishes when people get hit. At least, if I'm not misunderstanding the programming."

"If you're misunderstanding the programming then we're both reading this code wrong," the brown-haired ghost says. "And I'm pretty sure I used something similar here for Dark Path stuff, so probably not?"

"Dang," the alcove ghost says, then tilts his head back towards Impulse. "Maybe make splash poison potions, then? That'll take out a good chunk of someone's health if they can't regen."

"He is green," the cactus-headed ghost says. "Why's he gotta make poison potions right now?"

A shrug in response. "Never hurts to prep early."

The blue-and-yellow ghost leans forward, squinting at him. "Alright," he says, "one of my wisps give you that idea or what?"

Another shrug. "I mean, what if they did?"

"Last time you started listening to his wisps," the brown-haired ghost says, "they told you to try and kill everyone just because I beefed it before the dragon fight."

"It would've worked if you hadn't warned them," the ghost in the alcove replies. "I can't believe you tried to sabotage my attempt at avenging you."

"I can't believe you listened to them in the first place," the blue-and-yellow ghost says. "They're bloodthirsty, they don't really give good advice."

"And I," Impulse says, having inched his way over towards the new task button, "am going to take my task and leave, because you guys are weird."

He hits the button and flips through the taskbook.

"End every sentence said to another player in a question?" he says, squinting down at it.

"You're already doing better than some of us were!" one of the ghosts on top of the Secret Keeper yells down.

"Oh my god, shut up!" the mushroom ghost yells back, and then turns to Impulse. "Hey, by the way, have you considered getting a pet parrot?"

"That's still a bad loophole and you know it," the blue-and-yellow ghost cuts in.

"I heard him just fine," the brown-haired ghost says. "Hey, hang on -- that's one of ours! It worked!"

Impulse decides he's not even going to bother trying to be polite about leaving. He has had entirely enough of these ghosts in particular.

#secret life #secret life smp #impulsesv #gilded hardcore #vikingpilot #this minific brought to you by: gilded is good go watch it #unlike last impulse fic i will not bother with a pretense of it being symbolism. this one is fully because it is funny to me #there's SOME stuff in there if you squint but it doesn't actually have anything to do with impulse #anyway sorting tags time:#yt #txt #solar scraps #solar scrawls #slsmp #gilded #you may have noticed i tagged the blue and yellow ghost. this is because i fear no man. or pronoun stealer for that matter #oh dunk wait i should also tag the others #devonsdesk #thefoolnse #avidmc #and then whimzee and trog are in the background (sorry guys i didn't have the voices down yet)#oh and fun fact about this one. the identity of one of these ghosts is Really Questionable #like just a little bit... it could be him acting weird or it could be something else entirely yknow? something more aware of certain things #but ehhhhhhhhhhhnnnn that's spoilers so who am i to blow up its spot #update josh got a new username so #codeneon

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freckliedan · 12 days

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omgomg What hornyposting have they done - same anon :3c

check out my fuck energy tag for receipts on varying levels of overtly horny moments to things that ping for me but possibly not universally. but also, an in depth but not exhaustive list:

they have a bondage bar on their bed which dan has flippantly replied to a tweet about

sister daniel video

the april fools nude

dan probably agrees that phil is naturally ginger despite his hair color being an auburny brown at best due to pube color. sorry that i said it out loud rather than keeping it implied.

interactive introverts shock buzzers shown im witl were bought from an online sex store, dan told us on twitter

halloween pumpkin carving video has "so horny they're stupid" energy, dan's in a mesh shirt

this ii era liveshow in australia; the next video on the gaming channel was of the dumber ways to die mobile app.

ii era "getting that d vitamin" shirtless dan selfie ft clothes in the bushes behind him. photo taken on a brief break from touring when dnp + martyn and cornelia were spending a few days on vacation. "lapping up the d vitamin" comments about phil as well in a liveshow afterwards

phil's ii era side to side by ariana grande insta story

phil's mysterious white stain on his costume shirt insta story from the lead up to ii

"please be gentle with the handcuffs, i have sensitive skin" from witl/ii—sensitive skin is usually about like.. being sensitive to scented soaps and stuff. this is not an intuitive connection to make. it leads me to believe that's knowledge they have from experience

when the ii dvd was released, the bbc rated it whatever it rated it (can't remember) because of a couple engaging in erotic roleplay (amongst other reasons) which dan acknowledged on twitter and did not disagree with at all

dan's horny attitude about dentist visits

handcuffs and videogames sims moment

dan's kinky tumblr reblogs from the era when it was normal to rb softcore porn on here, including a fair amount of horny qbout blood posts

in that light: dan wrote and published the urge

phil bringing up mpreg as often as he does pings as horny for me; the hand falls into this category in a deeply bizzare manner imo

phil recognizing a delivery guy from gay emo porn

dan hogtied in christmas garland on their breakfast bar in manchester

dan's 2009 nakedbooths—nudes posted largely to flirt with phil. particularly the nakedbooth dan posted of himself in phil's bedroom where phil's holding lion in frame to censor dan's dick

phil's "milk" dailybooth

dan's "i WANT you to tie me up" dailybooth comment on phil holding up a belt

dan on formspring answering whether he swallows or spits

dan replying to someone in the comments of a phil vid pointing out hickies he had after dan visited him in 2009

uma thurman tweet

formspring answers about cherry & piña colada lube + cherry reference in the vday vid + sleuths online spotting specific lube in one of their suitcases at one point

phil used to post constant thirst traps before dan came into the picture have you SEEN ry @dnphobe's emo boy edit?? have you seen phil's check yes juliet and toxic vids????

thank you for coming to my ted talk, i know i'm missing loads.

#jam replies #anon #fe #phan #history

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good-chimes · 1 year

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In honor of Life series four, Life Series Bake Off AU

NEW SERIES LAUNCHES:

Nation charmed by fresh crop of 12 amateur bakers including intensely competitive student GRIAN, ambitious cake artists BDUBS and SCAR, scientific bread experts TANGO and IMPULSE, and ETHO who has no discernible social media presence and, rumor has it, doesn’t officially exist. Married couple JOEL and LIZZIE raise eyebrows—will they be able to compete against each other?—but this is settled when Lizzie immediately announces she would murder Joel in real life to win and has bought the kitchen knife set for it, and Joel lovingly declares he keeps an axe under his pillow in case this happens.

The judges as usual are renowned cake chef PEARL, bread expert MUMBO, and our two inimitable presenters: BIGB, beloved by the nation for his gentle reassurances of weeping contestants, and MARTYN whose main contribution is his trademark eyebrow waggles as we find out from the judges who’s in trouble this week.

TART WEEK (1)

Tart week gets off to a strong start, with contestant REN charming both the judges and Martyn with his exquisite tarte au citron and his total inability to let a double-entendre go to waste (‘I’m just a tart triumph all over’ he proclaims, to Martyn’s immediate delighted riposte ‘Mm, but what do you do on the weekends?’). Law student JIMMY is not so lucky when a misreading of the recipe leads to ten times the correct amount of butter and a catastrophic oven meltdown. Star baker goes to early favorite BDUBS for an exquisite three-tier tart showstopper.

Week one elimination is, of course, the hapless Jimmy, and the recaps are united on two fronts: it's always nice to see someone on the show who reminds you of your own midnight experiments, but holy shit Jimmy, did it not give you a clue when the melted butter started pouring out of the oven like you’d stabbed the spirit of margarine to death in there. Jimmy's butter meltdown becomes a meme and he sells T-shirts; Joel immediately posts a picture wearing one.

CAKE WEEK (2)

Week two brings cake week and an impressive performance from SCAR, who embarks on a showstopper Baked Alaska in the shape of a snow-covered mountain. Tranquil in the face of GRIAN’S constant disparaging comments about his whisking technique and browned meringue, Scar perseveres and is crowned star baker for the week, while Twitter immediately declares Grian the villain of the season. A contingent of viewers theorising ‘could this be flirting’ are swiftly shouted down on social media and retreat to a dedicated subthread on a cookery forum.

Last week’s star baker BDUBS seems distracted by his new-found friendships with the quiet ETHO, who spends hours on the surprisingly unambitious Victoria Sponge. A conspiracy theory emerges that Etho invented the Victoria Sponge, refuted by weak counterarguments like “cannot possibly be true” and “he would have to be several hundred years old.” Meanwhile the nation is won over by JOEL and LIZZIE’S chemistry as they trade quips and spatulas, unfortunately Joel is eliminated after a jam mishap, at which he declares “at least I went out after Jimmy.”

TEA-TIME WEEK (3)

Tea-time week brings florentines and shortbread, but it’s a sad week for love as REN is out after his overambitious scones fail to impress. “I’m heartbroken,” Martyn announces, and cannot be consoled even by Scott’s superb showstopper petite-fours. Ren was a good sport to the end, everyone agrees. Ren spotted at a Covent Garden coffee shop with Martyn three weeks later.

HALLOWEEN WEEK (4)

The mood is jovial for Halloween week, with judge MUMBO in fake vampire fangs while ETHO bakes cookies in the form of anatomically correct skulls. LIZZIE starts off with adorable witch-hat cupcakes in little witch hats, then spends the rest of the episode precisely and effortlessly crafting a blood red mirror glazed sachertorte which the presenters refuse to look at because it “makes them uncomfortable”, and is subsequently awarded star baker for the most genuine aura of threat ever achieved by a cake.

Meanwhile GRIAN and SCAR continue to genially snipe at each other throughout. TANGO asks BDUBS to turn his oven off at a crucial moment; unfortunately Bdubs forgets and then blames Tango for relying on him, leading to the charred mess of Tango’s showstopper and a social media uproar dubbed “OvenGate”. Bdubs alternately sorrowful and dramatically dismissive. This cruel betrayal knocks Tango out of the tent; a public petition is started for his reinstatement.

WEDDING WEEK (5)

Puppet theater designer CLEO has her star turn in wedding week with ranks of beautiful marzipan figurines on all her bakes. An intense rivalry develops between her and wedding-enthusiast BDUBS, who declares his magnificent fondant confection a dry run for his impending marriage to ETHO, a stranger he met ten days ago. When asked by presenters how much of this is a joke, Etho laughs and says “I guess?”, which leaves the nation none the wiser. Unfortunately IMPULSE’S canapes are considered uninspired and he is uninvited from both the wedding reception and the series.

BREAD WEEK (6)

The feared bread week comes around and all the artistic cake-makers wobble badly. SCAR and GRIAN just scrape through, but CLEO’S triumph last week turns to tragedy despite the trouble she has gone to to model a realistic centaur out of sourdough. Bdubs makes an impromptu speech to camera about how she was robbed but he intends to triumph in her honor.

MEDIEVAL WEEK (7)

The experimental medieval week takes the bakers on an outdoor camping trip where they will attempt to build their own stoves and use them to replicate historical bread techniques. BDUBS’S enthusiasm for this and his drive to impress ETHO turn out to be his downfall as, distracted, he builds a stove that bleeds heat and fails to brown his bread. Etho meanwhile excels at both the survival and breadmaking aspects, leading to a divide on Twitter on whether this level of competence is hot or just very concerning, potentially the cake equivalent of a serial killer. The Victoria Sponge theory is raised again. Etho alleviates some concerns by getting lost three times in an open field over the course of the episode, which loses him enough baking time that dark horse SCOTT pips him to the post of star baker.

WINTER WARMTH WEEK (8)

Week eight arrives and five bakers remain: LIZZIE and SCOTT are known to be good all-rounders, ETHO is the reigning technical expert, SCAR remains the favorite on the cakes side, and GRIAN is mainly known for his habit of constantly sneaking spoonfuls of Scar’s cake mix so he can mock the taste. Social media opinion is divided into “Grian is a good baker actually”, “Grian is only still in because of executive meddling”, and the small but determined contingent of “no guys we really think they’re flirting??” who have emerged from their cookery subthread unbowed and with compilations of video evidence.

The set gets cozy with winter warmth week. Brandy-based showstoppers are the order of the day, and LIZZIE wins the episode by crafting a biscuit unicorn with a mane you can set on fire. ETHO invents an intricate brandy plumbing system to shoot flaming alcohol above his plum pudding—this attempt is in fact a good deal too successful and instead sets MARTYN’S hair on fire. GRIAN comes to his aid but ends up adding more brandy. Judge PEARL extinguishes the flames with a bowl of cinnamon milk. The judges are clearly not feeling merciful when it comes to the scores and Etho’s run comes to a premature end.

DOUBLES WEEK (9)

Some old favorites return for doubles week, where each of the remaining four bakers is helped out by an eliminated contestant on the other end of the phone. GRIAN for once assesses the limits of his own talents and asks to pair up with ETHO, a plan that immediately pays off when the contestants are challenged with a tricky technical that sees them baking the perfect pumpernickel bread. SCAR, having asked to pair up with BDUBS, is quickly underwater as neither of them understand yeast.

Scar’s floundering proves too much for Grian, who belligerently passes along his pumpernickel tips from Etho, saving Scar’s technical enough for him to scrape through. When challenged by Martyn, Grian grudgingly admits, “I just want Scar to stay in, okay?” Some recaps clear him of his villain status; others are still convinced it’s a fluke.

Meanwhile SCOTT turns in an efficient technical with help from CLEO and also JIMMY, who is apparently sitting in Cleo’s living room just to heckle Scott. LIZZIE calls on husband JOEL, but a combination of overconfidence and flirting distracts them both, leading to a burnt crust and Lizzie’s elimination from the final four.

MERINGUE WEEK (Final Episode)

In the finale, SCOTT, SCAR, and GRIAN face off over a series of escalating meringue-based challenges. Whatever alliance sprung up between Grian and Scar in the last episode is clearly water under the bridge as the two of them obsessively steal each other’s ingredients and annoy each other into trivial mistakes. This escalates into a noisy quarrel over the main challenge of the week: an edible diorama of a cactus ring. Scar’s attempts to ‘aesthetically correct’ Grian’s mountain diorama leads to Grian melting his sugar-spun cacti with a crème brulée torch.

The two are no longer speaking by the showstopper, where Grian embarks on a desperate attempt to make up points with an ambitious trifle in a castle-shaped wall of macarons while Scar builds his own grand macaron diorama. The clock ticks down. Scott is creating an impeccable strawberry pavlova. The trifle is going badly. Grian is covered in sugar and regret. BigB pats him reassuringly on the shoulder.

At the last moment, Scar sacrifices half his perfect macarons to donate to Grian’s diorama. Grian, for once lost for words, grabs his apron and kisses him right in front of Martyn’s swiftly-derailed countdown. “Grian had a beautiful artistic vision,” Scar says sentimentally afterwards. “You have to respect the craft!” They snog behind the tasting table. Mumbo gamely attempts to award points. Pearl in a laughing fit behind the cameras. Martyn and BigB solemnly wrap up the shot with Martyn’s best cake-based innuendoes. Grian and Scar do not notice.

Scott wins the series. He got so many more points on the cactus ring technical.

#ethubs #treebark #scarian #zombiecleo #jimmy solidarity #i'm scared to use scott's tag he's on here #for blocking ->#traffic shipping

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humanpurposes · 1 year

Text

Come So Close That I Might See, part ii, Aemond

Desperate to secure her position, Aegon's wife turns to Aemond for help // Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x OFC

Warnings: 18+, smut, infidelity, mentions of past non-con, fluff, (cameo from dad!Aemond at the end).

Words: 3300

A/n: pwp but went heavy on the plot. Also available to read on AO3.

Tags: @padfooteyes @darkenchantress @blackdreamspeaks @kezibear143

The dull light of dawn dragged her from a dreamless sleep. The sun hadn’t yet risen, the fire was long dead and Lucia’s bedchamber was cold.

She kept her eyes closed, vaguely aware of a distant birdsong and the noises of the city beyond the walls of the Red Keep. She breathed into her back and felt where it met the mattress beneath her, and as the haze of sleep began to fade she winced at the slight stiffness in her neck and the tenderness between her legs.

Her fingers crawled to the other side of the bed where the sheets were neat, seemingly undisturbed. She was alone then. She opened her eyes, part of her hoping it might not be true. The pieces of her gown were still laid over the chaise, the smell of sweat and sex lingered on her sheets, but any other traces of Aemond were gone.

One night, she told herself. One night and she would allow herself this indulgence for the sake of duty. Duty to her family. Duty to the realm. Duty to her husband. Duty to herself.

She never could have imagined how it might have felt to finally be so close to him, to hold him and feel every part of him. She felt herself fading from the world around her, consumed by the memory of his skin, his sapphire gleaming in the gentle candlelight, the smell of smoke and leather–

“The Queen mentioned your outburst.”

She looked up slowly from her plate of salted pork and eggs, at the three faces looking at her.

The Lord of Casterly Rock sat directly opposite her, his dull golden hair falling limply around a furious expression. Nothing good ever came of her meetings with the Lannisters, not for her anyhow.

Aunt Johanna– Lady Lannister, suited the colours of her husband’s house, red and gold against her Westerling features. Often she was quick to defend her niece, but in the last year her rebuttals of Lord Jason’s usual lectures had become few and far between. Her expression now was soft and unsure as she took small sips of her tea in silence.

“Before this morning’s meeting of the Small Council,” Lord Tyland added. He was a little more put together than his twin, more stately, his hair neatly combed, his scowl more stern than irritated. “She said there was some kind of disagreement with your husband that was only resolved at the intervention of Prince Aemond.”

Lucia held her tongue between her teeth. Aegon’s insults were hardly a disagreement. There was no conflict, it was just… him. She had sat passively for so many years and now rage boiled through her blood.

But she knew her duty.

She took a deep and gentle breath. “As it happens my husband and I have resolved our differences.”

The Lannister twins exchanged a brief look of disbelief.

“To some extent,” she added.

“How so-”

“I will not be elaborating,” she said, “the state of my marriage may be of concern to you but the details are certainly not.”

She spent the day in her chambers, reading, embroidering dragons into scrap pieces of cloth, picking holes in her bed clothes only to stitch them back together, anything to keep her busy so that she wouldn’t have to think.

But all she thought of was Aemond.

The invitation to take dinner with Helaena and Martyn Hightower came as a surprise.

Little Rhaella was thankfully starting to recover from her ailment and was a bright presence. The girl had her father’s brown eyes, but everything else was Helaena’s, the delicate silver hair and dreamy look on her face. Less than two years old and she was running frantically around the room, presenting Lucia with her collection of small wooden animals before she came toddling from the nursery with a dark blue dragon egg.

Martyn started to panic that she might break it but Helaena simply said in a soft and melodic voice, “hold it tight, my love,” and the girl did just that.

When the hour grew late for the little dragon, Lucia followed Helaena, Rhaella in one arm and the egg in the other, into the nursery. Helaena dressed her daughter herself, fed her a spoonful of honey and a few sips of tea for her throat, and sent her to sleep with Valyrian lullabies.

“It can feel like such a burden,” Helaena said, as they walked back to the dining room, “I was terrified of the whole ordeal, and at the end of my suffering came Rhaella.”

“She’s an angel,” Lucia said as they reached the dining room. A sliver of warm light shone through the door into the otherwise darkened corridor, bathing Helaena’s silver hair and pale blue gown in gold.

Helaena reached for Lucia’s hand and traced her finger over her palms, studying her skin as a scholar studies a book, or a healer studies a wound. “I do not envy your position,” she said. “It is easier with someone you love.”

Lucia tried to swallow but her throat was suddenly dry.

She tried to love Aegon. She still remembered their first meeting, in the throne room, before the court. She might have found him handsome if it weren’t for the distant look in his eyes, and the fact he wouldn’t even look at her.

Despite his initial indifference, he had showered her with affections on the day of their wedding. As they stood before the eyes of Gods and men to recite their vows, she saw only him, violet eyes bearing into hers, and when he kissed her, her fear faded. She allowed herself to hope that the Prince she had married was a man who embraced his duty, who would be kind, gentle and cherishing. He even did away with the bedding ceremony. The marriage would be consummated when she was ready, he said, a promise sealed with a chaste kiss to her cheek.

The first time he visited her chambers was a year into their marriage. He stumbled in as she was readying herself for bed, dragging with him the smell of stale wine and the streets of Fleabottom. She had never seen him in such a state. She had heard whispers, of course, of his exploits and his affections for serving girls, but never had he presented this part of himself to her.

At least he had been gentle when he guided her to her knees and entered her mouth. “A mercy to us both,” he slurred when it was over. He didn’t even seem to find much pleasure from it, just a motion to reach a release, and then he was gone.

“I love my husband,” Lucia whispered.

Helaena hummed to herself. “That’s rather not what I meant, dear sister.”

She frowned, but before she could press her further, Helaena swept into the dining room, singing a lullaby under her breath.

She didn’t care to eat much, save for a few cuts of beef and half an apple cake.

When she returned to her chambers, her eyes fell to a book upon the desk that had no place on her shelves. It was large, an old philosophy text with delicate pages and fraying binding, from Prince Aemond’s personal collection. He had leant it to her some weeks ago, but even after finishing it she had found herself reluctant to part with it. She couldn’t say why, if her interest was in the rhetoric of the Maester long since dead, or the fine calligraphy and illustrations drawn in colourful ink and plated with gold leaf. Perhaps it was the simple act of tracing her hands over the pages Aemond had studied so devotedly, having a part of him with her.

True, she had found his scar and constant intensity rather intimidating at first, and warmer friendships with Helaena and Daeron, but with Aemond she had found something more innate.

It began with comfortable silence. The library was a wonderful place to seclude herself, escape her husband and the prying eyes of the court, losing herself in tales of history. She had a particular fascination for the Conquest at the time and devoured chronicles of Aegon and his Queens, and their dragons, of course.

She was rather surprised one morning to see Aemond walking towards her reading table. They exchanged few words but mostly she was happy to simply sit beside him. The next day she returned the favour and, eventually, they managed a few formal conversations.

She lit up the first time he mentioned Vaghar.

“It is remarkable that such a beast of war should remain among us,” she said one gloomy afternoon as rain pelted against the window, so heavy they could not see Blackwater Bay beyond the gardens. “A living piece of history.”

Aemond smiled a little stiffly. “Indeed.”

“How did you first come to claim her?”

But her face fell with regret the moment she asked. By the way Aemond thinned his lips and clenched his fist, she had overstepped a line.

“It was simple really,” he said before she could utter an apology, “I offered myself to Vhagar and she accepted me.”

Her eyes flashed to his eyepatch, no longer fearful, but curious. “Were you scared?”

“Yes, and I overcame my fear.”

She did not question him further.

As years went by, Aegon slipped into his cups and the onslaught from the Queen, the Lannisters and every other Lord and Lady of the court began.

When she retreated to her usual hiding places, the library or the bench in the rose garden, Aemond was always the one to find her, to sit with her in settled silence with that soft expression she dared to think he reserved only for her.

So it was out of duty she found herself walking through the Holdfast with Aemond’s book under her arm.

There was no guard stood outside his door. She took a shallow breath and gave three gentle knocks.

He understood the moment he opened his door to her.

They concerned themselves little with the preamble. The book was forgotten on his desk as their lips met. She loved the desperation of it, the way he pawed at her dress and whimpered when she tugged on his hair.

“I’ve thought of nothing but you,” he uttered between their kisses, “I thought I might come to you tonight… I did not wish to presume.”

Always courtly and composed, it thrilled her to hear Aemond’s voice so breathless and raw. A warmth swelled in her chest, pride and lust, feeding off each other and intertwining until she could hardly form any thought other than him.

He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

She pulled back just a little, resting her thumb over the pillowy pink of his lips. “I cannot stay long,” she whispered, “someone will notice my absence.”

His hands settled on her waist, holding her gently, as though she were something precious, but with a firmness that fuelled her desire. “Let me take care of you, Princess.”

It was quicker than before. He turned her around and brought her to lean against a table, making quick work of hitching up her skirt and pulling down her small clothes.

He groaned to see her desire already dripping onto her thighs, tracing featherlight patterns over her skin and teasing her needy centre.

And then his hand came around her throat, a delicate hold, but it made her head spin as he inched his cock into her entrance and started to fuck her.

She gripped the edge of the table, unsure of what else to do with herself but moan and make breathy attempts at saying his name. The stretch of his cock inside her, his fingers working over her pearl and his light grunts in her ear, it all felt so perfect.

“Good girl,” he uttered, hot breath sending shivers over her skin “you take it so well for me, Princess.”

“This excites you, doesn’t it? That I’m his and not yours,” she teased.

“I think you like it,” he rasped, driving his hips faster against her rear, pushing himself deeper and deeper until he met that spot that left her body weak. “You need me, to fulfil your duty… your desire.”

If he was intending to tease her it was working. She could feel herself clenching around him, as her pleasure began to rise in her.

She nodded, hardly aware she was doing it. “I want you, Aemond, I need you.”

“Beg me for it. Beg me to paint this perfect little cunt.”

“Please… I want it… I want it…”

She fell against his chest as they came together. She could feel him draining inside her, fucking every last drop of his seed into her as his hand pressed against her stomach to keep her close against him. She gripped his hand and he didn’t seem to mind the crescent marks she left behind.

She savoured the stillness for a moment, the closeness, the fullness of his cock inside of her and the afterglow of her release.

“I meant it,” she said, “I find so little to be happy about. I do not love my husband. I resent my position. I allow myself so little hope.”

Aemond pressed an achingly light kiss to her temple. She leaned into his touch and held his hand a little tighter.

“I just want you,” she whispered.

“You may have me whenever you wish, Princess,” he said, trailing his lips down her cheek before he tilted her head back to meet him in a slow, contented kiss.

Once she had fixed her small clothes she headed to the door.

“Will you take me riding tomorrow?” She asked.

He raised his good eyebrow. “Riding?”

“To the Kingswood.”

The brow dropped. “Oh.”

“You didn’t think I meant…”

Aemond smirked at his own assumption. “Well, who am I to deny the wishes of my Princess?”

She passed one other person as she walked from Aemond’s chambers, a young maid with a timid face and a bundle of laundry in her arms. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor as she passed the Princess.

“Where are those from?”

The girl froze, like a squirrel catching sight of a dog. “Pardon, your Grace?”

“These–” Lucia gestured to the white lines, “where did they come from?”

“They are Prince Aegon’s, your Grace.”

“An unusual hour to be changing his bedclothes.”

“They… needed to be changed.”

Lucia sighed. “Has he overindulged himself in his cups tonight?”

“Quite so, your Grace.”

She thought for a moment. She could still feel Aemond’s seed spilling from her.

After briefly thanking the maid she walked on, past the corridor that led to her own chambers and towards her husband’s.

Aegon’s room smelled sour, of spilled wine and vomit. She could taste it on her tongue as she breathed. A loud snore sounded from the bed. Aegon was sprawled on his front, his clothes discarded on the floor around the bed.

The heels of her shoes clicked against the floor as she approached the bed, and he did not stir. She pulled back the covers on one side, and still, nothing.

She chewed on a piece of flesh in her mouth. Part of her thought she might regret this, but if it worked, she might never need to find herself in such a position again.

She undid her gown and removed her corset and shift, leaving them atop a chest by the window. The air was surprisingly warm against her bare skin.

With Aemond’s seed still spilling from her, she slipped into the bed, as far away from Aegon’s unconscious body as she could, though with his arm laying out it was difficult to avoid him.

She lay there, eyes closed and limbs stiff, and waited for the morning to come.

By the time it did her eyes were sore and she felt as though she had not slept, but she must have fallen asleep at some point because the early light took her by surprise.

Someone needed to see her in order for this to work, either a maid, come to leave the Prince his breakfast, or Aegon himself.

By some miracle of the Gods, the snoring stopped, and his fingers drifted over the skin of her arm.

“Wife,” Aegon muttered into his pillow, “I don’t recall summoning you.”

“Have you considered your memory may be improved if you drank less?”

“I drink just the right amount,” he grumbled, falling onto his back and stretching his arms out in front of him. He rubbed at his eyes, then he stared at her. “Did I fuck you?”

She rolled her eyes and hauled herself from the bed, fully revealing her bare body and the stain in his sheets. That seemed to be enough, and he muttered a crude curse as she started to dress herself.

“Congratulations husband, it only took us five years.”

He would only need to be fooled once.

As for Aemond she felt no need to deny her desires.

Their encounters in the library became stolen kisses hidden amongst the shelves. Rides into the Kingswood left her with swollen lips, tangled hair and bruises against her back. In every other aspect, their lives became a game, a hand on the small of her back as they walked through the gardens, whispers of sweet nothings as helped her practise her marksmanship, all to tease each other, to see how far they could push each other until one gave in.

They knew to avoid being seen alone after dark. Sometimes he visited her before breakfast, or else she would meet him in the training yard and walk back to his chambers with him. They often found themselves in more formal company, receptions, feasts, tourneys, and there was always a corner to stow away into, a brief moment for them to claim as their own.

Their familiarity did not raise any suspicion, as far as she could tell. Of the King’s children she had always cared less for Aegon than his siblings. Sometimes she thought the faces around her seemed to look at her a little curiously, but she and Aemond had already been friends for years and faced no scrutiny for it.

When she realised their efforts had become fruitful, Aemond was the first person she went to, breaking their usual rule of avoiding each other after dark. They sat together on a settee before the fire in his chambers, his arms around her as she leaned into his shoulder.

“I’ll protect you,” he whispered, “both of you, until my last breath, whatever may come.”

The labour lasted days, but at the end of it came Jaehaerys.

The whispers of the court were quelled, the Hightowers at last seemed to view her as something more than an inconvenience, and the realm celebrated the birth of a new Prince. A Prince with silver hair and violet eyes, just like his father.

Aemond visited the nursery every day, sitting by the cradle, stroking his finger over the babe’s delicate skin, or simply looking over his face. He read to him too. Lucia laughed at the ridiculousness of Aemond bringing volumes of his philosophy books and reciting arguments of ethics and existence to an infant. But it had some kind of effect, Jaehaerys’ eyes would always go wide at the sound of his uncle’s voice.

Lucia entered the nursery one evening. Aemond was leaning back in an armchair, with Jaehaerys cradled into his chest, their lips both parted and their breaths, fluttering as they slept, in perfect unison. They looked so content and peaceful, her boys.

Her fingers came to the Valyrian steel band around her ring finger and her heart sank. She had everything she wanted, her son, her Aemond, her position, and it all rested on a lie.

Even with Aemond’s love and promise of protection, she had never felt so unsure of herself.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond “pussy eater” targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #my fics

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zhukzucraft · 14 days

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Wild Life - Chapter 2

A fan-made Life SMP session project by Zhuk and Schmomo

>Chapter 1< or >Read it on Ao3<

“So you’re breaking up with us,” Martyn said, matter of factly.

“Is this supposed to be shocking?” Cleo asked, “You leaving to go be with Etho, instead?” She laughed a little, cycling through her inventory for her iron pick.

“It’s nothing personal!” Bdubs insisted, quickly, “I just feel bad for the guy, you know?”

“He is washed up,” Grian agreed, his voice carrying from up high where he was building up their tower of cobble.

“Exactly. Wait, no! No, he’s not!” Bdubs huffed, “But it was harsh how we all ditched him.”

Yesterday had been a mad dash for resources, like all first days in the Life games tended to be. Bdubs’ plan for starting the Life game challenge had remained the same as always: stick to Etho. But that hadn’t really played out the way he wanted it to. When he’d circled up with his group near the exposed iron vein on the side of the mountain, everyone had realized at the same time an important fact: He, Impulse, Cleo and Skizz were all dogs.

Etho was not.

“He’s a cat, Bdubs,” Martyn said, his tail swishing about in warning behind him, “A filthy feline, if you will.”

“Shouldn’t we be building bridges?” Bdubs tried, his own short tail quite flat against his body.

“No, we’re building a tower,” Grian called from above.

Cleo snorted, trying to cover her smile with her free hand.

“The man is lost without me,” Bdubs continued, “And I really just want to check on him, is all. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all,” Cleo said with a smile, “But go on then, find your cat boyfriend if it’ll calm your anxious heart.”

Bdubs rolled his eyes, turning away and padding to the edge of their platform. After the iron had run dry, Skizz and Impulse had ventured further up the mountains. Bdubs knew his history with fall damage well enough to stick to more solid ground. Cleo had decided to join up with Martyn and Grian who were discussing some grandiose plan to take control of the entire lake. He had followed them without a second thought.

Now, he stared out at the vast expanse of water before him, “You know, we really should build a bridge–”

“No bridges!” Grian shouted, “That’s the whole point!”

Bdubs threw his hands up in the air, defeated with his teammates–former teammates? It was unclear at this point. Bdubs was about 65% certain he would come back to them. Maybe less so now that this base Grian and Martyn were insisting on would prevent him from any kind of sustainable horse travel.

He pinched his nose and jumped into the water, shuddering as the cold temperature hit him. He pushed through, diving down past the many salmon and cod to head to shore. By the end he was doggy paddling, which was fitting he supposed. When he reached the shore line he shook himself out, his ears floppy atop his head and smacking him ever so lightly.

His comms buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

Solidarity has made the advancement [Diamonds!] Smallishbeans > ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Smallishbeans > HE’S THE FIRST ONE?????? Smajor1995 > just wait for the swimming in lava message to appear soon enough Skizzleman > i don’t have anything to contribute but as another S name i felt the need to say something GoodTimeWithScar > same! Grian > Your username starts with G, scar GoodTimeWithScar > are we starting our own train now, G? Solidarity > DOES ANYONE HAVE FOOD THEY CAN THROW DOWN MY HOLE?

“Poor fella,” Bdubs sighed out without even a hint of pity. He put his communicator away. He glanced around, seeing the remnants of other players from the falling leaves and missing dark oak trunks. He decided to keep to the edge of the forest, just in case. After a few hundred blocks, the dark oak gave way to a plains biome and–

“HORSE!” Bdubs shouted, sprinting over to the magnificent herd of beasts. There were six of them, all deep browns and blacks. Some were even spotted with white. “What beauties,” he praised as he petted one of the wild mares, who shook her mane out at him. He hauled himself onto her back, only to be bucked off. He was no stranger to the process, however, and kept at it, taming the entire herd by the time the sun was shining directly above him.

“Now I just need a saddle,” Bdubs said aloud, before frowning. Right. He needed a saddle. What were the odds he’d stumble upon a dungeon anytime soon? He wondered if they were using the leather recipe in this game. That would be oh-so-fortuitous.

He hadn’t been paying attention, and the horse he was seated upon had wandered further into the plains, toward the great big snowy mountain they’d all pillaged for iron yesterday. He wondered if Skizz and Impulse were still up there. Why were all his friends moving into such horse-hostile environments? Bunch of scum, the lot of em.

The land opened up in front of him and he let out a surprised shout of terror. He quickly jumped off the horse, only to land precariously at the edge of the gaping ravine.

That was a close one, Bdubs thought to himself, imagine being the first to die. And to fall damage too.

He scurried backwards, giving himself a few blocks of distance. Sheepishly he looked around to see if anyone had seen him shrieking. Luckily, no one was around.

Where the heck was everyone? Had no one decided to settle in these plains? He frowned, turning all the way around before getting himself dizzy. How was he supposed to find Etho with everyone hiding? Everyone was still green for void’s sake! There was no need to be so un-neighborly yet.

“Cowards! All of ya!” he shouted out to no one in particular, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his important message carried.

“Is someone out there!?”

Bdubs startled, looking around for the owner of the voice.

“Hello!?”

He narrowed his eyes, following the voice several blocks to the right. He stopped right before the ground gave way to another hole.

“OH THANK THE VOID!”

All the way down below, surrounded by dripstone, was Jimmy. In full diamond armor.

“BDUBS YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Jimmy shouted, “I'VE GOT HALF A HEART AND NOTHING TO MY NAME!”

“I don’t know about that,” Bdubs called back, sitting down on the edge of the hole, “You’re covered in diamonds.”

“I’ve got no wood, no tools and no food,” Jimmy lamented, “Please, do you have any food to spare?”

“How’d you manage this?” Bdubs asked, his ears perking up.

“There was some mild panicking when I dug into lava,” Jimmy said, “Very mild. I may have thrown half my inventory into it. These are minor details. Anyway, can you spare a mutton? I’d take it raw at this point.”

Bdubs cringed, “You’re lucky Scott didn’t hear that. He’d never let you live it down.”

“Scott’s dead to me!” Jimmy shouted back, “He and Joel and Etho found me just to laugh! The nerve!”

“Etho?” Bdubs blinked, honing in on his mission with laser focus, “You know where he went?”

“You get me outta this jam, I’ll take you straight to him, I swear on my half of a heart.”

“And one of your diamond pieces,” Bdubs added, standing back up.

“You’d take the shirt off my back in my most trying time?”

“If it’s made of diamonds? Of course!” Bdubs replied, rummaging through his inventory, “After all, my hand might slip and grab my lava bucket instead.”

“ALRIGHT!” Jimmy shouted, “Just please! I can’t live down being yellow first again.”

Bdubs chuckled, taking mercy and flooding the hole. Jimmy quickly swam up, clawing his way onto solid ground and giving himself a firm shake to dry himself off. His long fluffy golden tail rained water droplets everywhere.

“Ah, a fellow dog of culture, I see,” Bdubs noted.

Jimmy cracked a smile, “Once a big dog, always a big dog. Woof, woof.” He picked himself up, taking off his diamond boots and handing them over. “Now please, some meat would be nice.”

“Oh I don't have any food on me,” Bdubs replied casually, slipping the armor on. “Should have probably grabbed some before leaving my crew, now that I think about it.”

Jimmy let out an anguished cry, hands shooting out to take hold of Bdubs shoulders. He dug into the iron armor there, “Are you KIDDING ME?” he shouted, close to tears, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through!? Wave after wave after wave of creepers and zombies hounded me down there. Half a heart, Bdubs! I could trip and it’d be the end of me.”

“I’ve got a bed if you want to set your spawn here,” Bdubs offered with a bright cheery smile. Jimmy screamed out in aggravation. Bdubs patted his shoulder.

“Oh, that explains it.”

Jimmy and Bdubs turned at the sound of a third voice, and emerging from one of the rolling hills of this biome was Mumbo Jumbo of all people.

“Mumbo!” Bdubs exclaimed, giving a friendly wave. “And on top of a mound!”

“Hmm? Oh! Yes! Once a mounder, always a mounder,” Mumbo replied with a grin, carefully hopping down the blocks to make it to their sides. His skin black and white tail shot out for balance. “Although, I’ve graduated to new heights this go-around. You could say I’m a mountaineer, now.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Bdubs complimented, “Are Skizz and Impulse with ya then?”

“Oh yes!” Mumbo assured, “BigB too.”

“Lovely catching up,” Jimmy interrupted, eye twitching, “But we have pressing matters at hand! Mumbo, do you have any food on you, bud?

“Hmm? Oh. Oh right, food. That would have been a good idea, wouldn’t it have been.” Mumbo realized aloud, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“YOU PEOPLE ARE IMPOSSIBLE!” Jimmy screamed.

Bdubs laughed, patting Jimmy’s shoulder and spreading his other arm out over the horizon, “Look, we’re in a plains biome, I’m sure we can find ya something to munch on.”

“All the animals are gone already!” Jimmy snapped, “This is the life series not Hermitcraft!”

“There’s plenty of horses,” Mumbo pointed out, unhelpfully.

“I CAN’T EAT A HORSE.”

“Not hungry enough, eh?” Mumbo replied.

Jimmy paused mid scream to laugh, “Alright, that’s a good one.” He then returned to screaming, “I’ve got two ticks left in my hunger bar before I starve to death. And that’s gonna be on both your consciences now, I hope you know.”

“I’m sure I can convince Etho to part with some snacks when I find him,” Bdubs assured.

“Isn’t Etho a cat, though? At least, that’s what Impulse told me,” Mumbo said, “Why are you looking for him?”

“Because I’m me, Mumbo, that’s why,” Bdubs snapped.

“Right,” Mumbo said, “Should have expected that. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me I need to collect some redstone down in that ravine. No reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Bdubs played along. He waved as Mumbo pushed past them, black and white spotted tail wagging behind him. He turned back to Jimmy, “Now which way did Etho go?”

Jimmy sighed, “He went further up, toward Scar’s place, I think. Have you been there yet? Last I saw him he was making some sort of shanty on the lake edge.”

“And that’s where we shall go,” Bdubs announced.

“I can’t sprint,” Jimmy said, looping an arm around Bdubs’ as a preventative measure. “Don’t you dare leave me behind.”

Bdubs laughed, but acquiesced. Slowing his pace down as they walked through the peaceful meadows. It was strange to see so few mobs and people. Eerie, really. But eventually from the fog appeared a new structure at the lake's edge. A fishing hut made of oak and spruce, already with a nice pier jutting into the water.

Scar came into view first, arms waving about as he spoke to three other players. Even before he rendered, Bdubs could tell the tallest silhouette to be Etho, most likely standing beside Joel and Scott based on Jimmy’s previous recollection.

“ETHO!” Bdubs shouted, abandoning Jimmy completely to sprint over to him.

Etho’s head shot up, and there was a soft crinkle around his eyes as they lit up in recognition. “Oh snappers, it’s a Bdubs!” he exclaimed, lifting his hand to wave at him.

“Why, hello there, Bdubs,” Scar intercepted, coming in between them before Bdubs could go in for the hug, “Welcome to my dock.”

“Right,” Bdubs nodded. “It’s a nice dock.”

“Thanks, I made it myself. Took all my wood,” Scar continued proudly, his gray and black tail swishing dangerously behind him.

“That’s not even true,” another voice snapped, and Bdubs quickly saw Lizzie coming into view. She was munching on a fish, her small ears folded close to her head, “I made the dock. You only made the shanty.”

“Details,” Scar waved off with his ever present smile.

“Food!” Bdubs shouted, pointing at the half eaten cod in Lizzie’s hand, “Jimmy needs some! Lizzie can you spare a fish for the starving man behind me?”

“Oh, Bdubs,” Joel groaned, his striped tail drooping in disappointment, “You actually helped him?”

“He was supposed to stay in the hole.” Scott clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“Dogs, amiright?” Joel offered cheekily. Bdubs couldn’t help but let out a petulant little huff at that.

By that point Jimmy had finally staggered over to them, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees. “One tick! One tick left and I die before your callous eyes!”

“I’ve got food, Jimmy,” Lizzie assured, digging through her inventory, “But you’ll have to swear your undying loyalty to me first.”

“FINE!” Jimmy agreed.

“See, this is how you get into so much trouble, Jimmy,” Scott commented, “You agree too quickly to things.”

“The man’s on death’s door, Scott. You can’t blame him,” Scar defended, even as he took out his own cooked cod to eat in front of him.

“To seal the deal I shall give you this!” Lizzie announced, handing over a bone.

“Am I joke to you?” Jimmy growled, holding the bone, “You expect me to eat this? Just because I’m a dog? Har, har, har, everybody.” He pretended to give the bone a bite, only for his jaw to snap right through it. He blinked, surprised, nostrils flaring and bringing the bone to his mouth to properly chew on it.

And then he ate it completely.

“Oh,” Lizzie said, dumbfounded.

Joel started to laugh, “Did he seriously just–”

“There’s a terrible bone joke just waiting to be made here,” Scott snickered, politely covering his smile with his hand.

Jimmy’s face colored, “Shut up! Just hold on a second,”

“Did it work?” Bdubs asked, intrigued. His floppy ears did their best to perk up.

“It…worked,” Jimmy confirmed, eyes widening

“So I can punch you now? Thank void I’ve been having to hold back this whole time–” Joel started, pushing his way forward and winding his arm back.

Jimmy screeched, high pitched. Etho’s arm shot out to grab Joel by the scruff of his shirt while the poor golden retriever quickly ran behind Bdubs. “It didn’t FILL me up! I’m not anywhere close to healed yet. Get away from me, Joel!”

Lizzie stared at one of her bones, appraising it. Carefully, she raised it to her mouth and gave it an experimental gnaw. She grimaced.

“Let me try it,” Bdubs pawed at the bone, curiosity having gotten the best of him yet again. He immediately managed to snap it in half with his teeth, despite missing several. His eyes widened, “Huh. It’s not half bad!”

“This must be a dog thing,” Lizzie murmured, putting a finger to her chin, “I mean you can feed bones to wild wolves so it sort of makes sense.”

“Wait a tick,” Jimmy said, straightening up, “Wouldn’t that…Wouldn’t that mean…” He let his voice fade off as he rifled through his inventory to pull out a piece of rotten flesh.

“Oh that is vile, Jimmy!” Joel snapped.

Jimmy took a bite. His eyes widened. “NO WAY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Bdubs tilted his head to the side. Jimmy handed him another piece of the zombie flesh and he took a brave bite. An explosion of flavors hit his tongue all at once. Savory rich barbecue with just a hint of heat at the edges. He could feel himself salivating for more as he gobbled up the supposed rancid meat. “Oh my! This is gourmet!”

“Are you telling me, I’ve been panicking for the past few hours when I could have eaten any of the 40 pieces of rotten flesh in my inventory!?” Jimmy cried, sinking down to his knees.

“This is amazing,” Joel snickered, “I’m glad you dragged us out here, Scott.”

“I’m full of great ideas,” Scott preened, flicking his hair back to emphasize the point. His blue gray tail swished behind him for added effect.

“Anyway,” Etho said, finally making his way to stand by his old friend, “Fancy seeing you here, Bdubs.”

“Etho!” Bdubs shouted, remembering the whole point of the day.

“Shouldn’t you be with your pack?” Etho faux sniffled, turning his head to the side.

“I came to check on you!” Bdubs insisted, pushing toward him. “Sure, I was led astray momentarily, but here I am in the end! That’s got to count for something, right?”

“I’m not letting more people move in with me,” Joel growled, putting his foot down.

Etho patted Joels’ shoulder, lifting his other hand to scratch the back of his own neck, “Ya see, Bdubs, after that whole debacle, I kinda joined my own alliance. A Fe-liance.”

“Oh.” Bdubs took a step back, wounded. “Oh, I see.”

“Aww man, Joel,” Etho caved immediately, turning to the tabby cat, “Can’t we keep him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But look at him. How could you say no to that face?”

“Easily,” Joel said. Scott laughed.

“Gentlemen,” Scar clapped, grabbing everyone's attention once more. Lizzie made a loud ahem, her tail lashing out in warning. Scar quickly amended, “And Lady. Although this has been quite the joyous reunion, I do believe you three came here for business?”

“We came for information, actually,” Scott cut in, taking a step forward, “From Lizzie, really. I hear you’ve got quite the advantage in this game, this time around.”

Lizzie blinked owlishly, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Bdubs whispered to Jimmy and Etho, who were standing closest to him.

“That’s the same look you pull half the time,” Etho huffed, crossing his arms.

“Game recognizes game,” Bdubs nodded. “Did I say that right? Gem taught me that one.”

“Joel told me everything,” Scott said bluntly. Joel’s ears pinned back, betrayed.

Lizzie scowled, turning to her husband, “Joel! You had one job!”

“I didn’t know it was a secret!” Joel snapped, tabby tail lashing behind him.

“Of course it was a secret!” Lizzie huffed. She crossed her arms, glaring up at Scott. “Well, you already know, then. No fall damage.”

“No fall damage?” Etho repeated, eyes widening a fraction.

“At all?” Bdubs added. “Well, wouldn’t that be nifty.”

“Interesting,” Scott continued tapping his chin, “What else do you know?”

Lizzie glowered, “Maybe that’s all I know.”

“Oh, come on now,” Scott started, his tone lilting as he bent forward to get closer to Lizzie’s face, “You expect me to believe the great LDShadowlady spent all of her imperial days as a cat and learned only one thing?”

“Oh, Scott,” Lizzie said, turning her head shyly to the side, “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Joel visibly scowled.

“Anybody got blocks?” Etho asked, “I gotta try this no fall damage thing.”

“Oh, it’s amazing Etho,” Joel egged on, eager to latch onto any distraction from his wife’s annoyance at him, “I went all the way to the height limit. You saw!”

“I did see,” Etho agreed with a light laugh.

“Lizzie’s got cobble in her chest,” Jimmy pointed out, uncrouching from the chest he’d been rifling through..

Lizzie whirled around at him, “Jimmy! I saved your life and you’re going through my things?”

Etho grabbed two stacks easily, turning towards Bdubs, “What do you say, wanna give it a shot with me?”

Bdubs reddened, but he took the offered stack, “Oh, well, when you ask so nicely how could I possibly refuse?” Then he pocketed the stack and put his hands on his hips, “Are you CRAZY? I’m no cat! You think me a FOOL?”

Etho cackled, “Just keeping you on your toes, is all.” He wiped at his eye, and hopped up onto a block, “I’m still gonna check it out for myself, though.”

Bdubs watched with growing wariness as Etho ascended upwards. He could hear the bickering around him start to die down as all eyes veered toward the white cat in the sky.

“You know, this has me thinking,” Scar started, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “We could be a whole traveling circus. Think of all the trapeze arts! No safety nets. It’d be spectacular. People would pay a fortune to see it. And there would be absolutely no clowns.”

“Shh,” Joel shushed, “He’s gonna jump. Jump into my arms Etho!!” he extended out his hands, only to be nudged in the side by both Scott and Lizzie adding up to one solid tick of damage against him.

Etho did jump and, without a drop of water, landed on his feet before them. His tail pointed straight out for balance and his own eyes were wide like even he couldn’t believe it. Then he turned toward his audience and asked, “Did that make you jump?”

“Oh, BROTHER,” Bdubs lamented, rolling his eyes. Hopefully, his lambasting would cover up the jealousy and admiration festering just underneath the surface.

“I didn’t go that far up,” Etho admitted sheepishly after a moment, stepping away from his stack, “But you know what, Bdubs? I bet you could water bucket clutch from that height.”

“No way,” Bdubs said.

“Perhaps we should change the saying from scaredy cat to scaredy dog,” Joel goaded.

“Good one,” Scott replied flatly.

“It was NOT,” Jimmy snapped, “Don’t listen to them Bdubs! You don’t need to prove nothin’.”

“Of course I’m not doing something that stupid,” Bdubs assured.

“I’ll give you this saddle,” Etho offered.

“Alright,” Bdubs sighed, pulling out the stack of cobblestone and starting to hop up into the sky. He ignored Jimmy’s squawking and Joel’s cackling, instead focusing on not slipping off his precarious tower. As he reached the halfway point he realized very quickly how stupid he was being. “Committing to the bit never did me wrong before,” he murmured to himself. He blinked and then snapped aloud, “Except for every time it did! What the heck am I doing up here!?”

He stared down at his audience and pursed his lips. He couldn’t mine down to them now. He’d never live it down. He’d bring great shame not only to himself but to all of dogkind. Plus, he really did want a saddle.

“You’re a professional, Bdubs,” he reminded himself, shaking off his nerves and squaring his shoulders. He pulled out his bucket of water, counted to three, then counted to three again, and then finally psyched himself out enough to just jump at the number two.

BDoubleO100 fell from a high place. ImpulseSV > OH NO! IntheLittleWood > First Blood TangoTek > Jimmy you can breathe now! ZombieCleo > I let you out of my sight for FIVE MINUTES

Bdubs opened his eyes at spawn and let out a frustrated scream. He stomped around trying to let the anger out. Oh, he was going to murder Etho, his eternal alliance be damned. He started hoofing it to the otherside of the lake, lamenting his lack of horse. His lack of anything. Especially with the sun already starting to set. It wouldn’t be long until night befell them.

“Bdubs! Over here!” he heard Jimmy shout. He turned his head to see that both Jimmy and Lizzie were running toward him, meeting him about halfway.

“We grabbed your stuff,” Jimmy said quickly as he started chucking items out of his pockets and onto the ground.

“I gave Etho quite the tongue lashing too,” Lizzie assured, “Put the fear of the void in ‘im for messing with my dogs like that.”

“Your dogs?” Jimmy questioned.

“I gave you each a bone, didn’t I?” Lizzie reminded him.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with a certain someone,” Bdubs interrupted, pushing past them after accounting for his relatively small amount of things. He sprinted the rest of the way and in no time he found exactly who he was looking for.

“ETHO, WHAT THE HECK!” Bdubs shouted, glaring as the white cat seemed to curl in on himself nervously. His white ears pinned so close to his head they became lost in his unruly hair.

“I swear I was gonna put down some water as a safety last minute,” Etho muttered, not looking him in the eye. He rummaged through his inventory and pulled out a horse saddle, “You still want the saddle?”

“I don’t want your BLOOD SADDLE!” Bdubs bellowed, stomping his foot for added effect. “I want my life back!”

“Uh,” Etho started, glancing over to his alliance for help.

Joel stepped in easily enough, “Sorry, Bdubs, we don’t speak dog.” He grabbed hold of Etho’s arm, pulling him away, “Etho! Scott! Uh, we should go work on the base! That isn’t here!”

“Right,” Etho agreed as he allowed himself to be dragged, “We’ve got a tree to build.”

“You’re even building trees without me, now?” Bdubs called out, “I hate you!”

“Quite the tragic break up we’re witnessing, huh boys,” Lizzie commented, shaking her head solemnly where she stood between Jimmy and Scar.

“What, you and Joel?” Scar blinked.

“What? No! Bdubs and Etho!” Lizzie snapped.

“But you’re sticking with me right? Not following your husband out there? I take loyalty very seriously here, Lizzie,” Scar warned.

“Of course!” Lizzie waved off, “That man’s dead to me.” She ignored the strangled cry of I heard that from Joel, instead giving Scar a bright cheery smile. He echoed it and the atmosphere seemed to grow a bit tenser, enough for Jimmy to take a wary step back.

“Timmy, where are you going?” Scar asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah, Jimmy, you’re one of us now, remember?” Lizzie cautioned.

Jimmy swallowed, “Uh, right, about that. You know, you two being cats, and us being dogs–”

“The circus doesn’t discriminate,” Scar waved off.

“You took the bone, Jimmy,” Lizzie reminded him sternly.

“Erm, Bdubs, what do you think?” Jimmy tried, turning desperately to the silent pug still watching the trio retreating in the distance.

Bdubs ignored him entirely, instead screaming out “WAIT!” at the top of his lungs.

Jimmy blanched as he watched his fellow dog sprint away from him, calling out a desperate plea of, “Don’t leave me here alone!”

Bdubs caught up to the cat trio easily enough. He stood right in front of Etho, who still looked too sheepish to meet his gaze. With his sternest glare he demanded, “Give me the saddle.”

Etho gave a nervous chuckle but handed over the item all the same. “So…we’re good now? No hard feelings?”

“Nope,” Bdubs answered with a cheery smile, “You’re absolutely dead to me!” He then swiveled round, racing back to join Lizzie, Scar and Jimmy where he left them.

“Oh, thank the void you didn’t abandon me,” Jimmy sighed out in relief.

“Abandon you? No! Never!” Bdubs assured, throwing an arm around the taller dog, “We’re bone brothers now.”

Lizzie cheered and Scar gave his own approving cackle as he swept them all in for a group hug. From within the inner circle, Bdubs continued, “Alright, new family, here’s the deal. I’ve got intel I can share about a whole host of these TRAITORS on this server.”

Still, even as he shared all he knew about the locations of the other players and their species, he couldn’t help glancing behind his back every now and then, just in case. And each time his eyes met only the empty landscape, he felt the cold wrap around his heart just a little bit tighter.

#life series smp #grian #bdoubleo100 #solidaritygaming #mumbo jumbo #smallishbeans #ethoslab #ldshadowlady #goodtimeswithscar #smajor1995 #zombiecleo #inthelittlewood #wild life smp

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